C.C.

Wednesday, March 15, 2017

Katie 'I'm sorry Mrs Blue-tit,' Katie replied, 'I was a naughty girl yesterday, but I won't do it ever again.' 'Tweet tweet,' the blue-tit replied 'Alright, I suppose you have come to help with the fairy, we birds have been busy long before you woke up, there were sixteen of us. We have built a... Sign in to see full entry.

Tuesday, March 14, 2017

This is just a repeat of 2011. Nothing to do with the real fairies which I am in contact with. Katie and Goldie Once upon a time, there was a little girl called Katie. she was just an ordinary little girl; she liked to pull the poor pussycat’s tail and shoo the little birds away when they visited... Sign in to see full entry.

Monday, March 13, 2017

"2nd series I listened for one rarely hears the truth from historians, it is all so fanciful, Invoking primitive versions of melodrama presumably to enchant. 'Are you listening?' The form asked as if my head was full of wool. 'Yes ' I replied,' I am going to jot it down, if you can wait an instant.'... Sign in to see full entry.

Saturday, March 11, 2017

Fairy. Well I suppose I could whisper, said the fairy. But it seems we fairies have to shout to be heard. But it is the way it always seems to be. You would not expect it from a little bird. No you would listen and probably say 'how sweet.' 'Yes,' I agree I murmured, 'but I don't believe in you.'... Sign in to see full entry.

Thursday, March 9, 2017

I am being disrespectful; I pull my spare trousers out of the old trunk. ‘Are we going to get drunk? I smile. She deserves smiles. Suddenly I feel a weakness and touch her hand. They never used to feel rough like this; I had not planned to get sentimental. Perhaps next Christmas I’ll get her a... Sign in to see full entry.

Wednesday, March 8, 2017

Smallholder That is what an old chap said; keep them well laid and short of shoes. They can't run away and you've nothing to lose. His wife ran off with a cobbler. But she was always gallivanting around. That's why I chose this old girl she can make a pound of flour into a rabbit pie I don't know... Sign in to see full entry.

Tuesday, March 7, 2017

Smallholder. It is evening; I listen to the cricket in the hearth and feel easy Although my cord trousers are stained with animal urine. The old black kettle spits out droplets of hot water. My knees steam it smells sharp and familiar. There is wine warming in an old pot on the hob. The fire... Sign in to see full entry.

Sunday, March 5, 2017

I suppose Perhaps I should feel more reverence for those who have departed. It is a quirk of nature that they still are so vivid, especially where I left each person and did not personally feel thwarted by my maker. The young are still as beautiful; the old carry on with tasks that are obsolete. The... Sign in to see full entry.

Friday, March 3, 2017

Sunday. She picks primroses a small bunch of yellow floats under a blue sky. A bluebell is a smudge of colour against the short green grass. She wears jeans cut to her pale knees; brown hair flowing. I watch a length of white ribbon, it drifts haphazardly as if it might pass and have no connection.... Sign in to see full entry.

Monday, February 27, 2017

Poem. So you sing in the clear waters of scented showering. Forgetting the rise and fall of a lover who passed seeking gratification. Stringing another bead upon the amassed collection of amusing recollections. The spear rises in an arc and falls into the soft flesh of the quivering fawn. This is... Sign in to see full entry.

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