Each tiny feeling of positivity encourages the building of self-worth and creativity.
2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
My name is Penny Wobbly and I am a writer from London. Do you like reading or listening to stories and poems? If so, you are in the right place!
Each tiny feeling of positivity encourages the building of self-worth and creativity.
2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
Trust is an important human element.
Hard to win, easy to lose.
Trust can be damaged by early experiences.
Colouring future relationships,
With difficulty in casting off past memories.
2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
THERE ARE CREATURES IN MY GARDEN
There are creatures in my garden, yet rarely are they seen at all.
Hidden in the walls are spiders, the odd lizard, leather jackets, ants in battalions patrol, as magic cleaning up insect and debris machines.
Weeds scatter seeds for their plants to keep on growing, for snails to slimily keep on their contented munching and gnawing. Sadly your cherished plants are on their menu, as they have a hankering for them too.
Tiny frogs seek shelter in the dampened cracks, hiding from aerial birds and ground, fox, cat and dog attacks.
A mole surfaces to leave a hill in the middle of the lawn, blindly, burying, furiously underneath, hunting juicy worms from dusk to dawn, leaving the molehills for you to pat down.
Butterflies and ladybirds, gavotting about giving amazing colourful displays.
The foxes lay against the wall, enjoying the warmth of the sun and dappled shade after a night on the essential food hunting run.
Squirrels, furiously battling in the trees, as nuts rain down to be lost in the ground. To start new tree growth in this fascinatingly active garden of mine.
Where all I have to do is sit, quietly, relax, whiling away some precious me time.
© 2024 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
Every human has value.
It is up to the individual to settle,
For the value most acceptable for them.
Sometimes a great deal of soul,
Searching is needed to spread over time,
To find peace and value ourselves.
2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
To glance out the window, is to see a host of stories, waiting to be free.
2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
Freedom and peace,
Sit comfortably together in life.
When either is threatened,
Or damaged chaos reigns.
Freedom is only achieved,
When it is powerful enough!
To be valued and shared evenly,
Protecting everyone, not just a few.
2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
Tossed to the left!
Tossed to the right!
When I think I've got your rhythm, mister, you quickly slip in another vicious twister.
I'm lost; I can't get it right!
On land, I've seen the pattern, as drunks weave their way home from the pubs.
But honestly, alcohol I have yet one drop to sup.
Still, I'm tossed to the left and then to the right!
I'm lost; I can't get it right!
I've looked forward to this voyage, for rest, relaxation, and gentle perambulation.
To dress in new creations and sparkle like a toff.
The reality is my muscles ache, with the strain of maintaining, my balance and preventing you, from tossing me to the floor again.
I'm lost; I can't get it right!
The menu is quite extensive and tempting to the eye.
Each time I think it's safe now to eat, to give food another try.
But as I stand to leave the table, my stomach's on the move.
It's tossed to the left and tossed to the right!
I'm lost!
I can't get it right!
So come on Mr. Neptune!
What have I got to do?
To change your playgrounds, monstrous waves to a mill pond's glassy gentle hue.
Maybe then I would learn, the art of standing feet apart, admiring incredible views of you.
Then I'll be okay, I'll have got it right in partnership with you.
2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
Arriving at the station boarding the night sleeper, trying to keep my excitement in check.
Arranging my belongings before creeping into my berth for a rest. Waiting for the steam release and whistle as the great train importantly pulled away,
Leaving the grime of the city behind, to spend time with the family on a short holiday. We were off, and as the speed increased I started to shake and roll.
The clatter of wheels on rails finally lulled me off to sleep, to be gently awoken by the steward with a nice cup of tea. Advising me of my arrival time, that was when the excitement hit.
Home to the Highlands of Scotland, to share stories, laughter and love with those so close to me.
The train slowly drew into the station, I slid down the window it was still dark.
The smell of smoke and the cold highland air hit me, as I gazed trying hard to see, the vision of my father standing there ready to welcome me.
As we hugged each other, the guard blew his whistle and waved his lamp, before the train gathered speed and clattered off into the dark.
Leaving us to cross the bridge with my case in silence, as the dawn birds began to awaken to have their say.
We drove home to our family cottage, where we were all going to stay for Christmas. A family Christmas near perfect and one I would never forget.
2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
I received a very aggressive phone call on my landline, from a woman purporting to be from Microsoft. As soon as she mentioned Microsoft and it was about my computer, I stopped her, saying, “If my computer needs anything done to it, I will contact them myself, thank you,” and put the phone down.
She rang again immediately, asking me to listen to her as it was serious. I said, “No, I would mention it to my son,” putting down the phone. It rang again and my husband picked it up. I shouted to him to put it down and not answer it, in case he pressed whatever she wanted. I was worried as he did not have his hearing aids in. Thankfully, he complied!
Then it rang again. I said, “Leave us alone!” She said she was going to keep ringing until we went to Reading; otherwise, we would lose our computers entirely. I just cut her off again. I knew what to do but many vulnerable people would have been intimidated.
I have had many scam calls but none were as aggressive as this lady. So, beware; just put your phone down. Do not answer any calls immediately and use another line if you have one.
2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
Where canal boats plied their trade,
Men puffed on pipes and cargo moved
Women knitted scarves, hats and gloves,
While stirring hot soups and drop scones made.
Information passed between boats of work to be had.
Laughter dwindled as they slowly made their way.
Those were the days some clung on too .
Remembered in many a jaunty song.
2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
There was a table for two next to us which was occupied by an Italian American gentleman who I can only describe as a larger-than-life sort of character and his charming companion. He wore glasses and an extraordinary amount of real or gold chains.
Attached to one was a gold-coloured motor launch about three inches long and two wide, which swung across his vast chest. It was a replica of one he once had, apparent diamond rings abounded on almost every finger and equally flashy apparent diamond and gold bracelets.
He said he had been a millionaire and lost two fortunes. He appeared to know everyone you mentioned. He had owned a hotel and managed a restaurant, fed Hilary Clinton when she was younger with pizzas.
He was very critical of almost everything to do with the ship and was a regular torment to the waiters, and restaurant managers. His companion was delightful and tried to dampen down his excesses, with a very small degree of success.
That is what I like about cruising you meet some nice people and some much larger than you think real life can possibly produce. Yet they are very real!
We went to bed early on our first night, as we were exhausted, still suffering from jet lag and excitement.
The next day we arrived at our first port of call. My husband and I had been to Key West several years ago and we're looking forward to seeing it again. Have I needed to buy some sturdy flip-flops?
Once ashore my husband too found something he needed. He became a David Bailey student as he played with his new video camera. We should hopefully have some interesting films to look at, at the end of the cruise.
We enjoyed our walkabout and the browse in the shops, plus a tea break and a slice of delicious Key lime pie. If you have never tried it, do. There were some very expensive yachts moored in the harbour. One I coveted was a smaller version of the Britannia. Roll on the lottery.
We ambled our way back on board, for another cup of tea minus cake, as our next exertion was to prepare ourselves for the last main meal of the day. Having said that, late-night revellers, had other options of chips, sausages and burgers.
We managed to avoid those as we made our way to our cabin, to prepare ourselves for the next day´s adventures.
2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo by Jannik on Unsplash
Yes, we are avid storytellers and listeners, which takes us into all kinds of situations: some very serious, others sliding us into delightful mixes of unrehearsed comedy. Those moments carry us through the tough times.
It is interesting to meet groups from other countries, with their reactions and behaviour when in a foreign country, which can cause total amazement. There seems to be, in some cases, before setting off, no research about the customs, food, health issues, or animals and insects to be aware of.
Your little story caused me to chuckle: to be mistaken for a lovely local English-limited Cambodian; brilliant! I loved your description of the temples, teak wood, white linen tablecloths, orchids, and enormous tree roots. I have memories of those, too. Bareback riding was also fun in those days, winding my way through rubber plantations, and arriving back exhausted. I wish I was a fairy and could fly back for a quick visit in peaceful times. Not sure it would be the same though!
I have often wondered about those devastated people, trying to pick up the pieces of totally wrecked lives after wars of any kind have moved on.
Music is a great soother and healer, slowly over time. So is the peaceful mingling of different nationalities, learning from one another about the past and talking about the future: bits to avoid, others to expand and share with kindness and love.
Thank you. You have both started my thoughts flowing, trying to ignore the insistent beat of war drums in different parts of the world. I would far rather listen intently for the imaginary beat of fairy wings.
© 2024 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
I am a cat and I’ve been bombarded. Don’t know why it’s happened to me. My home is a pile of rubble and my family is missing. I’ve searched and searched around me but nowhere can I find a person that I remember, or who even recognises me.
Oh wow! Oh wow! Where can I go? Will my family come looking for me?
I’m living a nightmare. I long to feel warm and safe. Food is no longer on a plate for me to eat whenever I wish. I now know, with the pangs of hunger attacking me, that I am starving. I have to hunt for some food.
Yet I am terrified of leaving the hole providing me protection. The bombs are still falling every now and then; no idea when they will end. I long for a calming cuddle to last for a long, long time.
Someone is coming. Will they find me? They have food; I can smell it. They are talking gently. Shall I take the risk and show them where I now live? Slowly, I inch my way forward with the smell and sight of food tempting me.
Suddenly, I am eating as fast as I can; then I crash: I am trapped in a cage. Let me out, let me out. I struggled, throwing myself against the bars. The voice of the man still with me remained so very kind.
I slowly curled up in protection as the cage moved and he carried me along, then placed me in a van, where a chorus of voices called out. There were cats and dogs and a caged bird or two. Where are we going? No one seemed to know. The door closed and we moved away from the only place we had ever known.
Our journey seemed to go on forever. The sound of battle slowly dimmed. At last, we stopped, the door opened and our kind man was joined by other kind voices as, one by one, we were unloaded into the light and the warmth. Then food, delicious food, appeared, which we gulped down as fast as we could, as we did not know if there would be any more.
Later, I was taken out, weighed, injected, brushed, and had a collar put around my neck, with a number, a name and where I was found. I could not tell them my real name, though I tried so hard.
Days went by boringly, day after day until a shout of joy rang out and the kind man came towards me. “What a lucky cat you are. Your dad has been found; he has been looking for you. He will soon be here and you will be free.” He took me out and cuddled me close, whispering, “I am so glad, my friend, you are returning, minus one life, to your family. You still have eight more to go, so they say, so remain safe and free with lots of good luck on your back from me.”
© 2024 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
Just yesterday I read a chapter of my book to my young carer. At the end, after a moment’s silence, I asked, “What did you think of the story?”
I saw her laugh and come alive, and she said, “I like it a lot as it takes the misery out of my head and allows me to leave with interesting and nice things to think about the rest of the day.”
She laughed again when I asked, “Would other young women of your age read it?”
“Absolutely. It is amazing; they would love it. When will it be finished?”
She left a different person, and I sat adjusting my impression of a young lady released from misery, for a while at least.
This young lady, up to this time, rarely smiled and never spoke unless spoken to. Caring is a very stressful life, especially when you are working long hours and so far away from your family and friends.
© 2024 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
It began with an enticing advertisement for Shen Yun, an amazing show of classical Chinese dance at the Apollo Hippodrome in Hammersmith, London.
With two of our young family having a birthday within days of one another, it seemed a great idea to go as a family. The adults agreed: let’s go!
Half the family were coming up from the coast, so I decided to hire a taxi to take us to the theatre. The first complication was that I had acquired an awful cold, two and a half weeks before the event, with my husband acquiring it two days before the show. I was deemed well enough to go, armed with cough sweets and a mask. My husband decided to stay at home as he felt unwell.
So, we now had a spare seat to fill. I rang two friends but they were out. My husband suggested our neighbour, whom I had discounted as she had a husband and little lad. However, on asking, she said, “I’d love to go.” Even though she had very kindly offered to make us curry and the children a pizza for lunch, leaving us time to relax for a while before dressing up and setting off to the show, she was still keen to join us.
On the family’s arrival, they were minus one member, my daughter-in-law. She had been struck down by this vicious, disruptive bug. I was so sad for her, and disappointed, as she so deserved something nice. Then the hunt was on to find another person for the last ticket. The dilemma was solved by my lovely neighbour who asked, “Can we take my son?” “Of course we can, why didn’t I think of it immediately?” I replied. She asked her young son, and he was keen to join us.
Once lunch and relaxation were over, we changed and prepared ourselves for the trip to the theatre. The taxi arrived on time, with a lovely driver whom we conversed with all the way. Subjects covered were Pakistan, religion, a pharmaceutical company, marriage and change of occupation, re-training, taking up law, travelling to the UK, transferring to a law degree here, and working a taxi to pay for it. He dropped us right outside the theatre, and I asked before I left him, “What are you going to do now? Will you be taking us back?” He did not know; all he said was, “I’m hungry; I’ll find something to eat.” We thanked him, waved goodbye, and made our way into the theatre.
As it was a late booking, the seats I had booked were very high up inside the theatre. My son disappeared and returned, waving two tickets. “These are for you and me, Mum, to sit near the front. I asked if they could help me, as you were disabled and would find it difficult to make it up the many steps to the top.”
We sat six rows from the front and had a wonderful time watching the traditional Chinese stories told in dance and music. The costumes were amazingly beautiful in their subtle colours and the stage backdrops changed frequently, giving you the sense of early Chinese life. The dancers, both male and female, were very well drilled and moved elegantly, with acrobatics being performed effortlessly.
The intermission came so quickly. My son disappeared to see my neighbour and the children in the gods. I talked to a very nice lady who had left her husband at home, as he was uninterested in this type of entertainment.
The orchestra returned to their places and began tuning up, and the theatre audience returned to their seats. I became very anxious at my son’s non-appearance, as we were in the middle of a row and his late arrival would disturb many people. Suddenly, he appeared in the gangway with my young granddaughter, who would be no disturbance to anyone. He retreated upstairs to join the others in the gods.
All too soon, the show was over. We clapped and clapped in praise of the performances which delighted everyone.
We waited until the bulk of the auditorium had emptied before standing up and looking for my son. As I turned, there was a beautiful, elegant, tall lady standing behind me. She had on a gorgeous brown dress decorated with gold lattice ribbon. She was on her own, so I asked her how she had liked the performance. She said it was wonderful and was glad to have come. I then said, “I hope you don’t find me rude, but I just have to say how beautiful you look, from head to toe.” She laughed, saying, “It said in the programme to dress up. So I made the effort.”
I laughed, replying, “It allowed me to wear my new fake fur jacket. However, I refrained from wearing my mother’s paste tiara; I thought that might be a step too far.”
The family arrived and, once gathered together, we made our way to the taxi. There was our lovely driver waiting for us.
Once we were all seated and strapped in and the driver had eased our way into the busy traffic, I asked, “What did you do? Did you eat?” He laughed, “I had two callouts: one to Heathrow, the other to Kingston Hill. Yet I managed to eat some dates and drink some milk. Open the glove box in front of you,” he instructed, “and pass the box of dates around in the taxi.”
So, one delightful date turned into a tasty date of another kind, and a truly magical night.
Much to my amazement and delight, the children loved the performance and talked about it frequently.
© 2024 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
OH, WHERE ARE THE TOOTH FAIRIES?
A painful, hidden condition that affects most of us at one time or another during our lifetime, toothache has been responsible for sleepless nights at the beginning of life, for both babies and parents.
At school, the discarding of our first baby teeth sets off a painful awakening of the need to keep our teeth spotlessly clean with regular personal care, something at that age we can often forget, while involved in the excitement of childhood.
As time goes on, damage to tooth enamel occurs, resulting in decay and agonising toothache, requiring fillings and, on occasion, extractions. Sometimes, the extractions are unnecessary, but the alternative dental treatment is unaffordable. Losing a tooth, by any method, is preferable to living with constant tooth and gum pain.
When multiple extractions take place, the shape of the face alters, making you look much older than you are. It lowers your feelings of self-worth and changes how other people react to you.
So, I ask again: where are the Tooth Fairies?
Free NHS services for many have been withdrawn, causing misery, time off work, and other conditions triggered by infections from rotting teeth. As seen on the BBC today, in Bristol, the desperate need has generated long queues, waiting for hours in very cold weather, outside a dental practice open for free NHS dental care. This is the tip of the iceberg. We cannot be a country where you are judged rich or poor by the quality of the care, or lack of it, of your teeth.
This problem has an economic bite: will the Government be the Tooth Fairy, prepared to restore this vital service to those in constant pain while being financially distressed?
© 2024 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
Don’t look at us and laugh. Look seriously at yourselves and be prepared to cry in understanding.
2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
I glanced at the departing of the cold winter white.
Encouraged by the appearance of struggling fresh green.
Reminding me of my love yet to be declared.
While fresh and young on this special Valentine’s Day.
I seek a blossom oh so fine to give to you, my much loved Valentine.
2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
Why are boats nowadays, bobbing on shortened anchor chains, sails tightly furled and lashed away?
Where are the sailors waiting to answer the pull of the oceans?
Both are impatient to be free of the virus running rife.
Allowing them to return to life and freedom, they both once knew and loved.
© 2024 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Anna Almeida
Arriving at the station, historic it is true, there you wait in shining splendour for passengers new. Some have never travelled before in the age of steam now gone, so they board you with excitement, awaiting that rush of steam, joined by your whistle-blowing, saying it is time to move away.
Slowly metal creaks on metal as carriages you tug behind. Gathering speed with each puff of steam and traction on the line. A comforting chuffing sound with the odd whistle hoot, tells us you are travelling at the right speed and on time.
Through your old-fashioned carriages, folks can mingle chat, laugh and pass. Exchanging pleasantries about the journey and the countryside slipping past. Children are being held on to as they stick their heads out the window, blowing their hair and laughing away in excitement as we travel on. Sadly no longer allowed now it is true.
Around a bend, a station comes into view and you start slowing, applying your brakes till you shudder to an abrupt creaking settling stop.
Passengers who want to leave the train, stand up to hop off, allowing others to hop on. Your whistle blows and your billowing steam tells us we are about to depart again.
Reaching your final destination, I reluctantly say goodbye, but I will be back on another occasion for you to give me another exciting grand steam train ride.
© 2024 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
Climb aboard tough times ahead.
Trim the sails, and haul the anchor swiftly aboard.
Passengers we carry strong they have to be, truthful, honoured, respectful, kind, and protective.
Cast off away from the foul weather that impedes progress, knowing we will survive if we remain solidly together.
No false maps to follow, of treasure easy to find.
We are aiming for a better future for those we have left behind.
Sail fast compass true, no deviation on the path essential to take.
It is for the survival of humanity that this journey we must make.
Otherwise, there will be a tragic shipwreck from which many will fail to wake.
© 2024 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
Our hotel cleaning lady knocked on the door.
"Hola, may I clean your room?"
We replied: "Can you give us ten minutes more please," in rather poor Spanish.
As we were getting ready for a swim.
One and a half hours later, we returned to see her doing our room.
On rushing in, my husband said "We have extra pillows."
Surprised I looked at the bed and was about to say "This is not our room."
When my husband said "And new bed covers."
I shouted "This is not our room," several times as he was hard of hearing.
"Come on quickly we have to leave."
On entering our own room next door, we burst into laughter as ours was still not done.
However, we did gain two extra pillows, as a reward from the whole experience.
2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
I do not think we have ever had so much trouble finding the bus stop, as we did in Fuerteventura.
On the first inquiry, we were told to go to the roundabout on the main road.
Off we set, none the wiser as to which was the main road.
There were several likely contenders with ornamental roundabouts, but no bus stop.
The next day, we made the second attempt we asked for firmer directions to the bus stop.
“Go up that road to the wooden house.”
Believe it or not, this was no help as several dwellings could pass as wooden houses.
Still no sign of the bus stop.
After yet another set of directions, we eventually found the bus stop.
The wooden House was the bus stop itself,
© 2024 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
I hope the sea is calm and the sky is blue.
I hope the food is deliciously scrumptious.
I hope the ties of friendship, reach out and include you.
I hope the music moves you, to gather memories all brand new.
I hope the sunset fading lulls you, to sleep ready for the dawn.
I just hope you enjoy each of the next eight days while you are gone.
© 2024 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
Africa is the most beautiful of places, being torn to pieces with such savagery.
The potential to have a beautiful peaceful land is there.
Waiting for people strong enough to stand peacefully to protect this cradle of human creation.
A place that is unique to all of us.
Beneath the skin, we are the same, all United.
© 2024 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
Oh, Madeira, of dark sparkling diamante breast mists gently swirling, clinging, caressing your face with tenderness.
I've longed from memories of past childhood journeys, to explore your dark luxurious, folded, sea-dipped dress.
As I silently, admiringly, slip past your feet dipped in the ocean.
In ships bound for more exotic and distant shores.
In times past ancient mariners have sought with thanks-giving your protection and reprovision from food grown on your precipitous slopes.
A lifesaver you have been to many, standing proud, secure, welcoming the cold, wet, sick and shaking from the wild Atlantic sea.
Now times are changing you might need help from many like me.
Your population's exploding, buildings are eroding parts of your surface of its luxurious greenery.
Rain clouds are reluctant now, to keep colliding with your mountain tops to set their rain cascading free.
So visitors such as I, must help preserve and protect you for future generations to see with pleasure and retentive, reflective memory.
© 2024 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
Chugging along and singing a song, as the world slips by.
Waving to friends on the bridge around the bend.
Watching the birds swoop down from up above.
The fish down below dive deep as we glide on through.
Dodging the lines attempting to catch one of them for tea.
Old Mrs West is sitting at rest waiting to wave to us,
As she always attempts to do, as part of a ritual.
Slowly we glide away leaving village life behind,
As we head for the wide-open spaces and skies.
© 2024 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: © Colin Westingdale