THE FISH WITH THE TWISTED TAIL

 

A small goldfish, with a twisted tail, lives in amongst all the other fish in my pond.

Yet it is not the damaged tail that first attracts your attention, it is a bright shiny ring of gold around the tail that catches your eye.

No other goldfish in the pond have such distinctive gold markings. It is almost as though nature has made up for his twisted tail by making him somehow special.

It does not seem to stop him from being able to swim. He has learnt to keep his balance, with quick spurts and circles through the water.

He does, however, spend, quite a bit of time on his own and seems braver than the other fish and is quite adventurous.

This little fish has twisted his way into my affection and I watch out for him every day to check and admire his progress. I have called him, Sparkler.

© 2022 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Daniela Silvia Serban

LIFE IS LIKE A ROSE

 

I think of life like a rose...

The rose bush grows strong and produces leaves and then a tightly wrapped green bud appears.

The bud swells and slowly starts to expand.

First showing a tiny pure pink petal edge pressing through the green embrace like a baby's pursed lips.

Slowly expands further with a pink body unfurling a bit

Finally, it burst pristine in its glory, showing its stamens and pollen.

Ready for it’s date with bees and other insects to pollinate and release it’s new issue.

Lacking a voice it’s scent and beauty call all towards it.

Work completed, slowly the petal edges start to blemish and darken,

To curl and wizen losing colour and suppleness slowly twists into a crumbling resemblance of the beauty it once was.

Before dropping and falling into the soil to be broken down gradually.

There to provide nourishment for another generation of plants.

I feel there is quite a similarity between our lives and the Rose.

 

2022 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

Rose Bush

A HINT OF TENSION

 

The sea mist rolled in covering the shore.

The boat crept in ever closer with the slight creaking of oars.

The men and goods carried within gave the cause and hint of the increasing tension.

An arm raised stopping the oars, as one man stepped overboard,

Indicating they had reached the still-hidden shallow shore.

An arm raised again for silence, as they strained to hear a hint of movement ahead.

Reassured, with speed they pulled the boat onto the shingle, disgorging boxes of various sizes away from the wet sea line.

Every now and then the arm was raised for silence and ears strained to listen.

As the final box landed, footsteps were heard approaching the shingle.

They fought frantically to tug their boat to deeper water and the protection of the mist.

Not knowing if the approaching footsteps were from friend or foe.

Rowing hard they made a safe distance out to sea, before congratulating each other, relaxing a little, with shared sips of cognac from a flask.

Another trip under their belt, with payment waiting for their pockets on landing.

Dare they make another, would their luck last?

When offered an unknown cargo, will the tension rise again, as they take up the fear of a smuggler's life, with ill-gotten gains and the knowledge they could be thrown for an unspecified length of time into a putrid, uncomfortable Jail?

Or would they say on contemplation enough is enough and feel the tension seeping away?

2022 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

USE YOUR IMAGINATION

 

Use your imagination to relieve a difficult situation.

Don’t just look ahead, rotate your head and look around.

Circumnavigate your imagination, to create new occupations not just for you.

Gather friends in your neighbourhood and others in Zoom room consultations, far and wide.

You will be amazed at the sparking of the fusion of ideas being bounced around creating excitement right across the oceans into numerous rooms.

There are many ways new jobs can be created if we act together, thinking outside the box.

In each part of our population, the Aged and Able/Dis barrier can at times be reduced when able, allowing minds and hands to be active and proud to add their efforts to help many community situations.

They have minds full of imagination and historical recollections to tap into for help.

We need to utilize intuition, imagination and creativity to move us forward.

Attracting the funding to activate the sparks created into slowly gathering flames, ready to warm hearts and homes and help money to sit a little longer in the bank.

Imagination is a powerful thing, let us try using it, to reach our exciting potential.

2022 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

BATTLE DWINDLING AND FINAL REPORT

 

The sounds of battle dwindling, the sounds of celebration Bells.

The sounds of people cheering and singing loudly as well.

The sound of bands and marching feet returning, home to all they treasured and held dear.

Yet they knew not all would be returning,as good friends and neighbours had sadly fallen.

 Yet we knew how they fought and when they finally laid down still. 

They asked us to share their stories if they did not return home with us, as they wanted you to know, exactly where and when, and hear their final words of love which only we could send.

2022 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

SYLVESTER THE CAT

 

The neighbourhood has been alerted as Sylvester has not been seen for days. His mum is abroad so perhaps he just became bored and crept away. Maybe he has taken a journey to try and discover where she might be. There was such a hue and cry, as he had never strayed before.

It was amazing he never knew how popular he was, till he failed to appear on his familiar rounds. He could not understand why his mum had been gone so long as it had never happened, as far back as he could remember. So he set off to explore, got himself into a mess when through an open door he decided to explore. The gale slammed it shut, at first, he did not mind as there were smells to investigate.

A cosy chair to take his repose, but as the hours' pass, hunger and thirst made him pace and call out in disgust. “Open up someone, and let me home.” No one came till day four, he was feeling rather poorly, and despair was creeping in, kept alive by a drip of water collecting and falling along the back wall. Suddenly he was woken from his despairing doze. The door swung open, he was up and as swiftly as he could manage, slid out the door, homeward bound.

Grateful to have his freedom, and return to food and his comfortable home, which he was not going to stray from for a while. Everyone was delighted to see him back, he had never had so much patting and cuddles, yet the one he really yearned for was still not there.

One thing he could be sure of was she was not nearby, well certainly not in the places he had looked. He didn’t understand that the pandemic had prevented her from returning to him but his mum knew he was in safe loving hands with his Uncle Shaun

© Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

The Magic Repair Shop

 

A name which brings a smile and interest when it’s name is mentioned.

Set in the country, in a quiet rural spot, the shop sits snugly with a cosy thatched rooftop.

Protecting the experts working away with ancient skills to restore broken treasures,

To restore memories of family members, many are grieving still.

Stories of accidental damage to treasured possessions from family, friends, or colleagues with gifts thought beyond repair.

Though tenderly kept, as considered far too precious to throw away.

Histories and colours of the gift related to the expert, so they could reconstruct and restore, not stripping the heart and memories from the piece.

Anxiously leaving their treasured possession in expert caring hands.

Awaiting the summons, “Your repair is now complete, awaiting collection.”

The way up to the door with emotions and anxiety bubbling, as they are greeted and welcomed in.

They pause before the shrouded precious item, experts waiting anxiously to display for approval, the repair laboured with the sensitivity of their skilled hands.

“Ready!" Sometimes only a nod and a smile, with a drawn-in breath.

A whisk of material and there before anxious eyes, a gasp smothered by a hand, tears slipping thankfully free.

“It is beautiful, as it used to be! Thank you, thank you, the family will be so pleased.”

A handshake, with treasure clasped in careful hands, or if heavy, lifted gently by all into the safety of a car. Before the final wave and the contented memory-filled journey home.

2022 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

QUEEN ELIZABETH

 

THE MARCH

Silently they stood at attention dressed in uniforms from all services.

Expectantly waiting for the shouted command.

It came and with the coffin of their Queen on a gun carriage, they marched off as one, boots following the beat of the drum.

Breaths blew 200 bagpipes into life joining the drums rat ta tat.

Men proudly marched in uniforms bright red, light blue and navy dark, with regalia and medals shining brightly.

Multi-coloured kilts swung in unison in a flurry of colour.

Other service bands joined in the orchestration of tunes favourites old and new.

A bell tolled a sorrowful sound ninety- six times during the journey to the final resting place.

At the Abbey, door music stopped, yet feet marched atmospherically on a few paces till called to halt.

With her family, the great and the good gathered from around the world awaiting their last opportunity to say farewell to their Queen and ours Elizabeth II.

Favourite Hymns and Prayers to send her on her heavenly journey.

Before the procession carried her to her final rest to join her husband’s remains in St George’s Chapel Windsor, all her earthly work was completed, as she moved into the comfort of God’s hands.

Another soldier a chief of soldiers now rests, all duties complete.

2022 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License 

DAWNING OF THE DAY

 

As dawn, slips it’s way up over the hill.

So does the old day, slide reluctantly away.

Taking with it the past to be remembered as history.

The birds welcome the dawn of the new day with a song,

With its stories yet to be written and told.

I take pleasure to be here to enjoy it all.

© 2022 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

IS THERE A SPELL

 

Oh, how I wish there were a spell to shake me up and make me feel better.

Not that I am really ill just that nothing is going very, well no matter what I do.

So I ponder on and on making and changing plans to find a way through.

I sometimes think I have a gremlin aboard, bound and determined to stop much of what I try to do.

Meetings carefully arranged somehow find a way of falling through.

Zoom calls timed from abroad, have storm disruption, poor connection and have to be abandoned, they do.

Updates arrive at inappropriate times, scrambling well-made plans into total confusion

Making five-minute jobs, turn into hour-long disasters failing completion too.

Oh, how I wish for a spell to clear all the mischief a possible gremlin to trying to do.

© 2022 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License