Category Archives: Prose for Thought

By the Butterfly Tree: An Explanation and Acknowledgements

For ‘Prose for Thought’ this week, hosted by Vicky at Verily, Victoria Vocalises, I am introducing my story entitled By the Butterfly Tree which is appearing on this blog in small instalments. I would like to explain how this story came into being, and thank those people who have motivated me.

You see, I should say first that, at school – all those years ago – there were some subjects I enjoyed and got quite good at. Science, and stuff. Maths. Now, when it came to English, I was a mixture; comprehension and descriptive writing I could handle, the odd poem, even. But writing fiction was a nightmare for me; as Winnie-the-Pooh would say, it didn’t. It just didn’t. So, when I get complimentary comments on here, about my writing, I feel both honoured and humbled – in a good way.

Well now, first came ‘The Twitter Key Project’ conceived, organised and hosted by Josie aka @porridgebrain on Twitter, which she explained here. Along with many others, I submitted an entry, which Josie kindly wrote on a label and added to the project here, with a photo.

Next, as you will see below the photo, Julia (That retired, but not retiring, woman, who blogs at Julia’s Place and tweets as @jfb57) left a comment – that got me thinking…

And then, more recently, Helen, who blogs at All at Sea, came up with a concept she called ‘Summer Of Words’ which she explained here. She personally invited me to take part.

The story in many parts, now unfolding on this blog, is the result. Many thanks to Josie, Julia, and Helen. And to all of you who may care to read By the Butterfly Tree. 

Here is a link to the beginning. More links will take you from one part to the next. I hope you enjoy the journey…

Prose for Thought

summer of words logo

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Prose For Thought: Picture the Scene

For Prose for Thought this week, hosted again at Verily, Victoria Vocalises, I’m publishing a little ‘word picture’ that I put together a good while ago, and which is (if the person who recounted  the incident to me, an even longer time ago, is to be believed) founded on fact. All I’ve done is to add a little colour and atmosphere, for which, as they say, I haven’t charged you any extra.

Just a point before I go on: I am certainly not wanting to make a joke of drinking and driving in itself, which tragically claims lives, nor to mock efforts to control it, by publishing this. I most certainly support the police in their efforts. OK? Then I’ll continue…

Somewhere near the centre of a Midlands city, at around 11 pm. on a Friday, a police patrol car has stopped behind a small and rather battered-looking white van. The car’s blue beacon is still flashing. The officer has walked from his car to the driver’s door of the van, and opened it. The ‘motorist’ has fallen out, his head and body on the road, his feet still tangled in the pedals. A miasma of beer-laden breath pervades the immediate vicinity.

This is the moment. The officer’s mien is static, his face inscrutable. The erstwhile driver of the van is motionless simply because he is helpless. The rotating beacon is the only visible sign of any movement, indifferent to the frozen charade over which its blue beam traverses.

And then, the moment is over. The incoherent occupant of a small piece of tarmac attempts to pick himself up but success eludes him. The officer begins a dialogue with a question which epitomises the paradoxical dignity that accompanies the absurdity of official inflexibility:

 “Have you been drinking, sir?”

Prose for Thought
Edit, 3 May 2016: linked to #chucklemums
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Prose for Thought: How do you like your verbs?

Well, now, apropos of Prose for Thought this week, hosted here…

If you choose, would you have all the verbs in this language of ours follow a set pattern? Or do you think that the irregularity adds positive character? Let’s try it out the other way, and see what happens…

A smartphone-wise geek, as I’ve hore tell,
Well… Letters no longer he wrote,
But with many a ‘like’ he ‘loke’ all his friends
And many a tweet, he twote.

Many a post, on his blog, he blug
And many replies he got,
And as his ‘stats’ began to climb
His heart on awards, he sot.

But alas! He core not then, for followers true,
And for words, for their own sake, he slove;
He thunk hardly at all of their woes and their needs,
Yet for popularity crove.

Ah! Let us remember – to blog should be fun
An outreach to others who find
That a problem, when shore, will be easier solved,
And less of a strain on the mind.

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Prose for Thought: Song of Morning

Today, Prose For Thought, hosted by Victoria Welton at Verily, Victoria Vocalises opens for new entries once again. Oh, and today’s other event is that it’s World Poetry Day. So today – or, I should say, tonight – I’m going to post, er, well, a poem.
It’s one that I’ve blogged before, albeit in a slightly different context, but I’m  doing so again, for two reasons; firstly [holds hands up] I haven’t got another one ready just yet, and secondly, the motivation behind this poem has increased since I wrote it, around two years ago. This is because I have come to know so many more people, through the blogging community, who have come through – or, indeed, are still going through – severe trials, of some kind, in  their lives.
Now, statistically, this isn’t surprising; let’s say we instance five hundred people: OK, a certain percentage will suffer from this or that medical condition, or a certain nature of hardship, or will have a family member who does. If the national figures indicate that, say, 5% of the population suffer in a certain way, my sample will be likely to contain around twenty-five of them. But the striking thing to consider is how many people are going through these trials, yet maintaining a positive attitude, even though they need all the encouragement they can get. This poem is meant to figuratively represent the collective voice of all who desire to encourage others along the pathway of life and learning. It’s called…

The Song of Morning

Whatever yesterday has been –
Whatever horror you have felt or seen –
The song of morning gives to you her promised token:
Implants new fire with precious words now spoken
In a vista – in a touch – to those who have awoken.

For she is a song that is alive and has a being –
Has eyes to give a smile – not just for seeing.
Yet see she does the sadness of her friend –
Comes with a fragrant balm the wounded heart to tend;
Into that inner space her love she dares to send.

She calls to tell you what is truly ‘morning’.
Yes! Whispers softly what is truly ‘dawning.’
More than the change of fingers on a clock –
More than a working day’s fresh culture shock –
More than another ship called Duty making dock.

A clear horizon melts from blue to gold.
The story of today is waiting to be told.
The song of morning offers you a hand to hold
So that you need not walk uphill alone,
Nor yet despair of finding answers yet unknown.

The song of morning takes you in her arms,
Invokes the waking breeze to soothe dread qualms;
Caresses you with new sunlight and calms
The fevered mind with sights as yet unseen,
Whatever yesterday has been.

*  *  *

Prose for Thought
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