Common Raven, Raven, Snow, Winter, Cold

Of her beauty she was sure

At the reflection of lustrous jet of her mane

She did stare

No greater beauty from far or near

Could to her in anyway compare

And with her narcissistic self approval complete

She did from the crystal pond retreat

And seeking something now to eat

To the roadside she did repair

A flattened hedgehog as her fare



Mistress Springtime

Woman, Person, Female, Young, Actress, Suit, Epoch

Image by Mircea Iancu from Pixabay

Mistress Springtime, how she shivers

Waiting for her chance – to return

Bringing daffodils and crocuses

Cold Winter’s wrath to spurn


But for now she is a captive

Locked in, by his icy chill

But her escape plan is active

She’s a lady of iron will


Mistress Springtime – soon a captive

No longer shall she be

But she will in time triumph

Frozen Winter, he will flee.





Pirates, Flag, Skull, Symbol, Skeleton


The Mary Ellen was two days off the coast of Madagascar, her hold replete with expensive spices from India.  She would continue southwards and take on supplies in the Cape before making her way back to Bristol.  The ship danced over the undulating waves of the ocean, unaware of the menace which stalked her.

An hour later, the watch in the mainmast called that a sail had been seen.  It was a sail indeed, and the Blood Heart with no interest in the niceties of dance cut a purposeful furrow as her black hull ploughed the waves.  She was intent on only one thing, the possession of Mary Ellen’s precious spice.

All those aboard Mary Ellen could sense the chill of their prospects as they ran up more sail with the forlorn hope of making a port, any port, before the dark form of Blood Heart overtook them.

The chase was on, but the winds were less than favorable for our little nautical dancer.  Then there was a further cry from the topmast, a second sail running at speed at an angle to intercept Mary Ellen, as well.  Spirits plummeted at the prospect of two assailants, and the scope of evasion was quickly disappearing.

Then the foretopmen began to shout with joy, followed by the cheers of the mainmastmen.  Those on the deck and bridge looked quizzically aloft, until the helmsman too cheered.  As the second sail hurried towards Mary Ellen, the clear band of its gun deck gleamed, and the White Ensign of HMS Antelope fluttered in the breeze.

With the fortuitous arrival of the frigate, the Blood Heart turned her attentions seaward, and she departed our scene.




Saturday Mix – Unique Personality, 14 December 2019:  The statement for using personification is: The ship danced over the undulating waves of the ocean.



Fallen, Tree, Sandy, Hurricane, Hurricane Sandy, Damage

photo Pixabay (but from different storm)

There was a heavy thunderstorm, the wind snorted outside, rattling my windowpanes.  That was just how it began.  Over the next three days things got worse, as he pommeled us night and day,

“He?” you might object.  Yes, “He.”  As long as I can remember we have personified great storms.  At first they were were all female but a few like Camille and Katrina were anything but ladies.

Larry had some of that some evil streak that his sisters did, but he took his anger out on a much smaller area, and considerably further north and east than his siblings.  And anger it was.  The tree by my house was uprooted and my garden pond overflowed across the lawn through the sheer volume of his liquid fury.

I was really wondering why he seemed to have it out for me in particular.  Then my neighbour corrected me in a point of fact.  “The storm’s name is Lorenzo, not Larry,” she said.

“Isn’t Larry just a familiar version of Lorenzo?” I asked.

“Well, even if it is, he didn’t seem to like it,” she said.

Sorry Lorenzo.




Saturday Mix – Unique Personality, 19 October 2019 

Prompt:  There was a heavy thunderstorm, the wind snorted outside, rattling my windowpanes. 


The Stroke

Image result for rac van


 His car suffered a severe stroke in the middle of the road, and refused to move forward.  This was unlike any illness or ailment “Pierre” had ever suffered before.  Oh, there had been the mishaps.  There was that punctured tyre near Brighton, but that was a mere sprained ankle.  Then a year later near Sudbury there was the first signs of circulatory disease when the fuel pump clogged.  But this was different.

It started simply.  A warning light for the battery came on.  It then went off and a few more miles were travelled.  Then it came on again, and as did the indicator that the Anti-skid Break system had a fault.  Not worrying he drove on, then the Power Steering light, followed almost immediately by the blacking out of the GPS screen, and radio.  Pierre sputtered, slowed, then lurched forward again and stopped.  The steering wheel would not turn, and the electronic break engaged and would not unlock, even when the Royal Auto Club repairmen arrived.   Even he struggled even to hook Pierre to the recovery vehicle.

“That’s wrong?” the driver asked.

“The computer system has totally failed,” the mechanic said.  “It’s really rare, but comes from too much dependence of a computer and not enough for mechanical systems.  It’s why I won’t ever drive a Citroën.”

Yes, Pierre had had a stroke.



Story based on true personal experience.


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