Fleur – The Prequel

Fleur, a very small golden Pocket Mouse was out playing with her brothers and sisters one day, when all of a sudden she spotted a large blue sphere, falling gently from the sky. From it was a long thin tail. Oh, she thought if only I  could catch it. She scuttled forward as fast as her little legs would carry her to where she could see it was heading. Oh, it was too high, she looked about and to her delight saw a pile of rocks, hurriedly she scampered up them. On reaching the top she looked down and gulped, she had never before been so high off the ground.  She looked around for the sphere and as she turned the tail came enticingly close to her, she reached up with her tiny paw and just managed to catch it. Wouldn’t her brothers and sisters and her parents be proud to have this wonderful sphere in their home.

As she went to turn to scramble down, clutching tightly to her prize, a sudden gust of wind raised the sphere. Fleur being such a very tiny creature could not stop it, she tried pulling and pulling, but the blue sphere seemed to have a mind of it’s own. She felt herself being lifted up off of the rocks and into the air. She grabbed the tail with her other paw too, looking down she could see her brothers and sisters getting smaller and smaller as she went higher and higher, and further and further away.

 

She thought to herself, this is how birds must feel flying high up in the air. Fleur was both enjoying the sensation but also a little frightened, mice are not meant to fly, What if she fell, she would break her bones, who would help her? She realized she was now far from her home and the only things she knew. What would become of her? Would she ever see her family again?   (to be cont………..)

Coldstone’s

Chilled, cool and cold

Ordinary never could be

Luxurious, lascivious and lickable

Delighting everyone, young and old.

Strawberry, Raspberry and Banana

To name just a few, with so many more

Oreo cookies, Reece peanut butter bars

Nuts and nougat to top your delight.

Experience not to be missed

Sorbets and sugar free.

Irresistible, sensuous, sexy

Customers laughing with Joy

Exuberant staff entertaining.

Crowd pleasers one and all

Rewarded by tips they sing

Extremely tuneful choruses

Amazing, delightful, delectable

Mouths watering whilst waiting in line.

Jean needs You

Hi you faithful visitors who come to the blog, I need you, I need feedback and ideas from you, what you would like to see on this blog, how you would like to involve yourselves in ideas, and feedback.  In order to grow as a writer I need to hear from you, it is easy just click on comment and leave you message I promise to get back to you as long as you leave your email address. Come on please help me!

A new day and a new determination.

Drove back from Carly's realising I had forgotten certain medication, home around 4.30 a.m., couldn't sleep too wired so have made final edit of Postcards from Baltimore, a small volume of Poetry and sent to my two favourite people for comment, before I finish the last 6 or so, for their feed back then it's on to publishers both here and in Baltimore. Babysat my grandson whilst his mother went out for a birthday celebration with friends, he was so good.  Today is going to be a milestone, yes a milestone not a millstone. Promise you a new post tomorrow.

Gosh Friday already, time is sure flying.

Well nothing put up for two whole days, my apologies, but I have had and still have a virus and really feel rough, so have consoled myself in bed writing the next story, a fantasy for 8 – 11 year olds. Still at an early stage but it will get there.

Is my daughters 27th birthday today so forced myself out of bed to take her and my grandson for lunch and a walk on the beach, think I actually feel a little better for having done so.

See you tomorrow with a new post.

Tuesday and all is well……..

This morning I have spent writing a couple of new chapters of a book for kids of 9 –11, it’s a fantasy taking one young lad on a journey, the ideas are still formulating, but I am enjoying it.

I have also been looking at new angles to get Fleur and following three books into the Publishing domain, I will tell you at a later date if I choose to go down this route.

I am also incredible optimistic about my mans job prospect, bringing him back to the UK so we can at last be together again, I hate long distance relationships. No matter how many emails and phone calls, there is always that great hulking hole they occupy and the need to be together.

Rain

Rain falls
As they stand under the ancient oak tree
Holding one another, he kisses her as she cries
For he knows what comes soon
And it’s so difficult as they weep their goodbyes
To stay composed and try to compromise
As painful memories flood his mind
And she stares at him through tear-stained eyes.
“I love you,” he says, “and you know I always have and will.”
“I know,” she says, her eyes so green, “But it hurts so bad that you have to leave.”
Burying her face into him, she sobs as he whispers tender words
Of comfort and encouragement that they will again meet
Under the oak tree.
A yellow taxi cab pulls into the street and parks
The driver gets out and begins to load the suitcases
She chokes out “Why do you have to go so far—”
But he interrupts with a loving kiss.
Cupping her chin in his hands, they look each other in the eyes
And slowly they share a sad, tender smile
“I will find you,” he whispers. “Don’t be afraid.”
He dries her tears, and his promise is made
She looks at him and smiles again
“I know,” she says. “I trust you through the pain.”

Change to Love bird

Tail between the legs
and eyes: rivers, lakes, oceans.
Foolish youth, foolish heart.
The bat out of hell—a time bomb.
Life becoming sand,
torn from the hand and cast
to the sea to drown.
The sun retreats, yields to the red moon,
blood moon. The Day.
The sand obliterated.
Here, a fool.
Eyes: interstellar oceans, macro cosmic.
Send him to the mountain of light.
To the mountain of light.
To climb.
To soar and awaken a heart.
Dark Raven change to Love bird!

A new project has begun.

Today I started a new project, having just about come to the end of putting together “Postcards from Baltimore”, I have begun a new collection inspired by a Music and movie DVD called Symphony of the Sea, so a new collection gets underway for a second volume entitled, “Elemental Symphony”. I have also been cutting superfluous words from books, for when I find some one to publish and believe in them. All in all, a good day.

Fairytale Change

Thinking that all the pain is going to kill me
Then he comes around me
All is better then with him by my side
His arms wrapped around me
Pushing away all my worries
Bring just peace over me
Serenity fills my body constantly
Never knew that peace like this existed
I thought that fairy tales died the older I got
Apparently they are just harder to find
Maybe all my childhood hopes will come true
Although I doubt that after all these years
I’ll just wake up one morning and be beautiful
Even though he believes that I am

Insomnia

This pillow feels like cement
on a bed of jagged nails,
I’m praying for an ounce of rest,
but even that bid fails.
My eyes are dully burning
just like the day before,
my body keeps on running
till I can’t take it any more.
My head though is still racing
with every whim and thought,
no strategy has shut it down
despite the years they’ve fought.
This restlessness is killing me,
at least that’s how I feel,
I’m slowly drifting out of touch
and I don’t know what’s real.
I’ve started counting days
by when everyone’s in bed
rather than a calendar;
it’s fucking with my head.
I’ve yet to find that wonderland
where people’s words are clear,
or what I see makes sense
and I’m sure of what I hear.
Sometimes I get so fed up
that it puts me in a rage
but there’s no place for the anger
so it’s locked up in this cage.
It’s becoming quite a problem
and I’m running out of sheep,
It’s bad for any state of mind;
I need to get some sleep.

Jean Isherwood Farley

April 2009

Recovery

Well after three days in bed with recurrent Pancreatitis, I have got rid of the fever and thankfully the pain, and am back to think about what next to do to promote myself as a writer. I have vague ideas which I will share over the coming weeks but for now, I have things I need to finish before starting on new ones. Keep watching though.

Again Alone

perpetual loneliness
days fade into nights
moments become memories
and the whole cycle repeats
can it be possible
for a soul to be un-paired
to have no mate to long for
no true love to share?
I've been lonesome for so long
it feels like home
slowly the walls were built
the solitude has grown
none are able to enter
although many have tried
my heart is a cold fortress
locked up from the inside
too many unfruitful attempts
have left me pondering
should I even pretend to hope
that there might be a happy ending?
I suppose only time will tell
if there’s someone out there for me
until then I stand alone
keeping safe my heart’s key

To be the change

And they tell me
To be the change I want to see in the world
But I can’t do that alone
The change I see
Requires a certain kind of unity.
So don’t kneel and pray,
Stand up and fight
With all of your might
For all that’s right
Just one night –
'Cause the light
Can be so bright
Everything can be all right.
So incite, and ignite, don’t be polite.
Follow me;
Tonight... we take flight

An English Girl in The Broadway Diner

 

Standing alone on the corner

it beckons,

gleaming steel with red and blue

neon lights.

Car park, full to overflowing

steps lead up,

doors waiting to be pushed.

Entering the first time, amazing

experience, my eyes

attempting to take it all in.

Half to my right, functional but

somehow bare,

for truckers and those in a hurry.

To my side a glass fronted cabinet...

Full of delights, all manner of

cakes, pastries divine—

Seated I look around, encompassing

the walls, individual booths

just like on the movies—

each with their individual jukebox

for lovers to choose

those songs of their own.

Tables fill the rest of the room,

waiters and waitresses

hustling to and fro

taking orders, bringing drinks.

I look at the menu, full of odd

things I don’t know.

Grits, I am persuaded to try,

cottage cheese, jello and fruit I choose.

I cannot imagine them together

but game to try—oh!

A delight on the taste-buds!

Time to leave, going with the dulcet

tones of , “Have a nice day!”

Standing alone on the corner

it beckons,

gleaming steel with red and blue

neon lights.

Car park, full to overflowing

steps lead up,

doors waiting to be pushed.

Entering the first time, amazing

experience, my eyes

attempting to take it all in.

Half to my right, functional but

somehow bare,

for truckers and those in a hurry.

To my side a glass fronted cabinet...

Full of delights, all manner of

cakes, pastries divine—

Seated I look around, encompassing

the walls, individual booths

just like on the movies—

each with their individual jukebox

for lovers to choose

those songs of their own.

Tables fill the rest of the room,

waiters and waitresses

hustling to and fro

taking orders, bringing drinks.

I look at the menu, full of odd

things I don’t know.

Grits, I am persuaded to try,

cottage cheese, jello and fruit I choose.

I cannot imagine them together

but game to try—oh!

A delight on the taste-buds!

Time to leave, going with the dulcet

tones of , “Have a nice day!”

At First

At first I didn’t like you,
At first I didn’t care
At first I hardly realized
That you were even there.
I’m not real sure what happened.
I’m not real sure what changed.
I only know it’s different,
My feelings were rearranged.
Now I really like you,
Now I really care
Now I can’t help but realize
That you are standing there.
You don’t have to like me,
You don’t even have to care.
You just have to know that I love you,
Even if you don’t dare.

Oh well!

Today as I sit nursing the revolting remains of a nasty migraine and it’s equally nasty chemical treatments, I have difficulty in being in front of the screen for too long, this I am assured is an after effect. Not a good one for a writer! Tomorrow I hope to post a poem complete with picture, picture is needed to emphasise poem, hope you like it. Today’s remains are going to be research, American Indian tribes and River names as I encountered so many in Baltimore, I hope to get some things onto paper.

Salt

I salt my pillow with tears

as unrelenting memories pepper a lonely ceiling.

It’s a private theatre for sleepless eyes.

So much to do so little time to do it in!

Have you ever like me, written down the tasks you have set yourself for a specific day? Do you like me wonder if there are enough hours in the day? I begin to wonder how well we utilise our time to maximise what we achieve. I try hard not to waste time, but often find myself spending so long trying to put things into adequate words, sometimes it feels like writers block.  So today I am starting to do a time and motion study of my day, hoping this will qualify some of the thoughts I have had regarding time, I have however allocated adequate time to write.

Decisions

I have decided to take the bull by the horns and send Fleur and synopsis of following three books, to TV Children’s Programme makers, nothing hurts to try. I am also thinking of may running a Poetry Competition, looking hard into that currently, who would I get to sponsor it, etc etc. Have spent today tidying up book 3, Griffin and Griselda, and then tomorrow will start on Freddie Reynard, book 4. I also intend tomorrow to post some of my older work for your perusal. Doing all these things is hopefully achieving part of what I want to achieve, and someway towards my goals. However, I can write anywhere, but my preference will be to be with him, where ever we end up. Please make it soon.

No longer a technophobe!

Today I took a big step forward, and installed Skype and a webcam, plus microphone and headphones, and it is wonderful, now I can see and speak to the one person who I want to who is in Baltimore whilst I am still here and longing to be back there. It will also be very useful with my writing and such like, as I can now make conference calls to prospective publishers etc. So now I just have to get into the swing of typing directly into the computer rather than on note pads and the retype! I can do it, it’s only willpower and increasing my speed. So 21st century I have arrived.

Alone

Sitting in the corner
trying not to cry
hearing all the voices
telling her she should die
no one loves her
she’ll never be good enough
she may as well give in
when just breathing gets tough
her family left her
and her closest friends
she has no one
no point trying to pretend
so she picks up the blade
paints a picture with a twist
she dies alone tonight
with a razor in her wrist

Thursday at the Ballpark with Tommy.

Nana and Tommy had a fun filled time at the ball park, he thought it delightful to bury me with balls, then insist, remember he is only 20 months old, that he wanted to go down the biggest, loopy tunnel slide there, you guessed it Nana had to take him, he loved it, I however did not, I am getting too old for these things.
However when he was playing with other children, I was able to write a fair few pages of the next book, I am pleased with it, it is coming on well, and I am happy with it. So onward and hopefully upward.

Hymn for my Soul

Stage is set, instruments tuned
light, reds and blues, yellows all ready
microphone stand silently waiting.
The auditorium starts to fill
still daylight it begins.
Guitars singing, raging, demanding
voice, drums escorting them.
The gutsy voice begins the set
Dave Mason in full glory.
"Hymn for my Soul"

Bass player fingering fluent perfect time,
lead guitar revelling in solo magnificence
the set ends, roadies change
all around, then it is time,
time for 'the boy from Sheffield', to strut
his stuff, for the guttural gravelly voice,
given in to the shrieking cries of
'Cry me a River', 'Delta Lady' and oh so very many more.
A saxophonist, with amazing range, the clarity almost
making you weep with it's perfection.
Lead guitar brings shivers to the spine,
slide enough to cause acute
sexual embarrassment with it's excitement.
His hands, forever counting beats as he sings, one could imagine
hands covering ones body, seeking to delve, grope and delight.
The voice, although older, still sends
a shivering excitement's thrill.
The two sing together -
a sexual explosion so waiting to happen.

Jean Isherwood Farley 15.07.09

Written following Joe Cocker Concert in Baltimore 14.07.09

Baltimore, Penultimate Day

Three forty five am, rain has just ceased

unlike the rain inside me at leaving here.

Stars come out, promising a fine day later.

People to arrive from 10 am, with Mike

and beautiful dog.

The rest arrive from 2 pm,

ready for a cruise.

‘Secret’ is clean and gleaming,

ready to delight them all.

Always she sits and waits for her engines

to engage, ready for action she

waits. Lines removed, gently she

moves forward, out of the slip,

turns gently out of the Marina

into the 6 knot per hour channels.

Drivers change. She now responds

to me, a novice navigator steering

her course, watching all directions

for other boats, remembering the

code of red and green, when to give

way, keeping downwind of sail boats

and smaller craft. Mike explains much,

Dave watches on as he trusts me with

his home, in rough winds.

On this penultimate day, ‘Secret’ gives

me freedom with responsibility.

I have many lives on board.

 

Baltimore 2009

Jean A Isherwood

What can a girl do?

Awoke this morning full of a coldy yucky feeling, Autumn has arrived! Still not one to let it get me down I applied myself to writing some of a story I started in Baltimore , I will share it with you in time when I am happy with it and it is finished, suffice to say it is different from the Fleur series, a little give away, it involves a very angry young boy, feeling neglected by family, bullied by friends and a magic pastry! Hope that has grabbed your attention. Tomorrow is my day for having my grandson, Tommy, but looking at the weather, I do not think it will be a beach day, what a shame. Still no doubt I can entertain him some other way.

Believe

Obsessive, compulsive, the need to be free

to attain those goals I have set.

Children's stories and possible TV,

poems and prose – I hope, I dream.

I aspire to achieve, for the moment

without writing more books.

Scribbling poetry, thoughts and ideas

until my heart is content.

Promote and bring into public domain

a wealth of words chosen, to challenge

and provoke reactions, to

build up a following, all wanting

more about me and my work.

Develop relationships, forge new friendships

to last, forget being scared,

grow confidence back –

believe in me.

 

July 2009 Baltimore

Jean A Isherwood Farley