NIGHT CLOAK

 

As the daylight started to fade, together we sought our last drink before flying high to find our favourite safe roost for the night.

We huddled together murmuring soft sounds of comfort to one another, as we waited for the cloak of darkness to descend.

Once in place no more noise did we make to remain hidden and safe. Till the slowly rising sun bathed us in warmth, replacing the chill of the night.

Only then could we sing in celebration of the arrival of a new day.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

A TASTE OF HOSPITALITY

 

On Saturday while on a car journey, to Morazán in Southern Spain. 

We crossed fertile red plains and passed the dreaded plastic-covered fields under cultivation. We wound our way in and out of small villages and on occasion got lost due to navigator error, and not driver disobedience.

We climbed steeply into lightly wooded hillsides. I find it very hard to understand the Spanish water situation as most rivers were dry even in the hills. When does it rain in Spain?

The views were spectacular the higher we went, and on occasions, I had to have the tourist photo session, Though David Bailey I am not!

There was hardly any traffic and it was approaching 2 pm when we were beginning to be anxious about a lunch stop. 

Appearing on cue just over the horizon in a valley, nestling in a bend was a restaurant tucked in front of two pink-coloured houses. 

Looking around for its possible clientele, we were surprised to see only about two or three small farmhouses and an isolated church.

Upon entering the restaurant, there was the owner of a shorter version of Victor Mature behind the bar and sitting on bar stools were two men. One of them looked like a local farmer. 

The other was a passing motorcyclist dressed to kill in very colourful motorbike leather trousers with a matching jacket draped over the back of the stool. He had all the trappings and stories of the big bike man.

The owner came over in welcome and shook our hands and handed us the menu written in Spanish.

My husband managed to help us through to a delicious lunch which included home-cured and hung ham, a Spanish Specialty. We refused the wine and settled for water as locally brewed wine can have quite a lethal effect and we had quite a way to go yet on our journey.

We were entertained by the TV, with an American martial arts adventure with Spanish subtitles and numerous commercials. It did not, however, detract from the real-life three-way Spanish conversation being relayed within earshot. 

As the wine flowed the tales grew in colour and complexity from the men at the bar. We sat enthralled, with the added pleasure of real-time views out of the windows, and the homemade food.

At one stage we thought the motorcyclist was about to leave, as he stood up, donned his colourful leather jacket buttoned it up to the neck and picked up his helmet. He reached out to shake the bar owner’s hand when the owner said something.

He ducked down below the bar and appeared a second or two later holding a glass, brimming with ruby red wine. He handed it to the Motor Cyclist who gave his thanks and promptly sat down again. 

With real ceremony, he supped the wine rolling it around his palate and giving a speech of appreciation. Cigarettes were offered and accepted and all resumed as before. Then another glass appeared.

We eventually finished our tasty meal, paid up shook hands with the owner and left the motorcyclist now into his third glass of wine and his jacket all done up ready for the road. Once outside 

I said to my husband ‘Where is his bike? We had to laugh as we were expecting a big powerful machine. There it stood a small Put, Put. 

Yet he had every right to consider it his pride and joy. I was a little worried as to the condition he might be in to drive anything when he finally left the restaurant's free hospitality. 

So we hurried off to be well ahead of him, in case his Put-Put, turned out to be a jet-propelled rocket.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

A PUFF OF BREATH

 

Leaves the mouth,

Sharp frost fills the air,

Visible to all.

In warmth the breath,

Still expelled,

Is invisible to see.

Yet, it carries drops,

Lethal at times

To you and me.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

A NEIGHBOURLY PLACE

 

To be in a wilderness-wide,

With neighbours by your side.

To help in times of trouble.

To hold hands and dance in joyful times.

Sharing home-cooked food and sparkling wine.

To celebrate, weddings, births,

And welcome home times.

It is a truly neighbourly place.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

WINTER TALES

 

As the shadows start lengthening, the sun continues it’s slow sliding to appear elsewhere as the dawn.

The ice starts it’s musical orchestration creating loud cracks with the creaking of branches breaking, ice expanding, and tumbling rocks and logs down into the river below.

The sky is clear, the moon bright and illuminating till freezing fog throws it’s weight around.

As darkness gradually settled it’s cloak comfortably on the ground.

A lone wolf sent out it’s challenge on top of a nearby hill, before retiring into the comfort of his den.

The countryside settled down till the sun appeared over the horizon again.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

FAIRY CROSS COINCIDENCE

 

When walking home late one evening, a fairy rushed past, before returning to look at me and asked, “Are you a reader?”

I said “Yes.” I was startled, what was a fairy doing here? However, I believe in fairies, don’t you?

“Do you have a book in your pocket?” she asked anxiously, glancing behind her from time to time.

“As a matter of fact, I do!” I replied.

“Have you read it?”

“Yes, I have, several times I know it by heart.” She glanced back again looking anxious.

“May I have it please?”

I looked at her in amazement, “Whatever for!” I asked.

“It is a surprise and would be my good deed for the day. I have not managed to complete a good deed for today and I have to. The Fairy Queen will be very upset if I don’t. I have to place a book at the Fairy Cross bus stop before morning, otherwise, the good deed won’t work.” 

She looked at me so appealingly, that I agreed against my better judgement, as it was the first book I had ever written. Though I had several saved copies, I had not released them for publishing yet.

The Fairy was so pleased and clasped the book in her arms before flying off, calling back her thanks to me.

In the morning the book was picked up at Fairy Cross bus stop, by a passenger and taken on the bus. He worked for a publishing house. He could not stop reading the book and showed it to his boss in the office.

Later that day I received a phone call from the publisher, asking if I was the author of the book called “Coincidence.” I admitted I was! He said,  "This book came into my hands by coincidence, at the bus stop at Fairy Cross in Devon and we would very much like to publish it, it is a great read! Would you be interested?”

I was flabbergasted that the fairy’s good deed was responsible for all this. Taking a deep breath I said, “Yes, thank you, that would be wonderful and I would be delighted to discuss details at a time of your convenience.”

When I put the phone down, I called out in glee to the family and related the absolute coincidence that happened to me and my book “Coincidence.”

Always help a fairy in distress when asked to, as they often quietly help us.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

TWENTY-FOUR HOUR SWING

 

Leave some time to stare at the clouds rushing by creating amazing scenes. 

Then at night switch off the lights and gaze at the stars and remember how far away they are. 

Just know when they fade away from you, they light the night skies where your family are too just a few hours away or a twenty-four-hour swing.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

YORK CITY AT CHRISTMAS TIME

 

An invitation was received with delight for a Christmas party, a week away on Saturday night.

It was the first in a long time; it would be so romantic in York City at Christmas time.

The hunt was on for something to wear, though money was tight. 

I glanced in the wardrobe for something to take to pieces and revive.

It might be possible to include it with parts of another dress from the past. 

To design an amazing dress fit for a queen.

Each day, I put time aside to complete each connecting seam, front and back.

Slowly, the simplicity of style and colour selection allowed its fashionable beauty to shine through.

Through old jewellery boxes, the hunt was on for earrings and necklaces to match it with a bit of sparkle.

The last, the most difficult task, was matching shoes and a small bag; money had to be carefully spent to acquire them.

The hour arrived for pampering well before the dressing-up time.

Standing before the mirror to see if I was as well dressed as I could be.

There were no eyes to see me but mine; mum passed away last Christmas time.

If she was here, she would be proud and say, “Hold yourself up straight. You have no reason to bow your head to anyone.”

“Yes, Mum, I will try to remember," I whispered while taking a final look in the mirror.

Descending the stairs to pick up a warm cloak to complete my protection from the weather.

A deep breath before opening the door and stepping out into the rain-dampened street, beautifully decorated with Christmas lights and decorations.

A surge of excitement made me grip my cloak more tightly as I walked along, looking at the length of this beautiful street in which I had lived most of my life.

Its age showing in the different styles of history going way back, it has never ceased to thrill. Now more than at other times, as the wet, cobbled roadway gleamed in the glow from overhead Christmas decorations. 

Head down, I hurried along in the light drizzle, counting the buildings till I could knock on the party venue door.

Bang! “Oh my! I am so sorry. Did I hurt you? Mother told me to walk up straight. I could not as the drizzle was hitting my face. Are you OK?” 

A laugh came from just above my head, and I found myself being steadied.

A man smiled down at me and said, “I should apologise to you! I came out of the lane in a hurry, as I was late for a party. 

Are you OK?”

I did not know what to say as I felt very OK. 

Who would not, in the arms of a lovely man, without an introduction?

I replied, “I am going to a party, too; you can hear the laughter and music from here.”

He laughed again, “So am I. May I escort you there, as I do not have a partner?”

What could I say with my heart thudding away? 

I said, “I have no partner either. Thank you for the invitation. My name is Violet.”

“Mine is Malcolm; pleased to bump into you.”

Walking straight, arm in arm and at ease, we knocked on the door, were welcomed and entered. 

It was then our wonderful lifetime partnership began.

No wonder it is called one of the most picturesque streets in York, UK.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

A COUNTRY LANE

 

A country Lane well-travelled sign was posted in plain sight. 

Generations have journeyed along it’s way. 

Some head down burdened by packs to carry, others dawdling along, stopping to admire the view. 

Paths crossed and conversations exchanged, trading of animals, fruit and veg with a handshake. 

Promises later to pay over a pint and a pipe in the pub Peddler too have passed through with trinkets to haggle. 

On Village doorsteps, customers would gather to have a laugh and hear their sales patter. 

Gossip too of loves and babies born, news of those that have sadly passed on. 

It would be carried from place to place down the lanes, part of the convoluted chain of life in beautiful isolated places. 

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

THE CONNECTION

 

In love, the seed of my beginning was planted in your land, bathed and nurtured and your wild weather, culture and music, stirring my soul, there ever to remain. 

No matter where I wander or how far, the name and culture of Scotland will follow me, your music continuing to calm and fill my heart with pride.

The other half of my beginning came from an adjoining land, England. Then, with instructions for my family to go overseas, there could not have been a better classroom to stretch an enquiring, attentive mind. 

Lands I could only dream of, people and customs, too, became precious to me, balancing my thinking of East and West to share the best with the world.

The strongest connections have been, as far as I can tell, truth, justice, honour, respect, peace and friendship. Without these as our united bonding, none of us will do well.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

LIGHT IN THE CABIN

 

There is light in the cabin tonight.

Who dared to journey if the weather was not right?

Snow is thick on the forest floor.

With ice crunchy and dangerous lurking below.

The car is on a stop, start, push, shove.

Burning within, one hand freezing having lost a glove.

The cabin appeared out of the gloom.

At last out of the car, head down and trudge up the hill.

Slipping and sliding, puffing with packs wearing you down

A quick lookup, five more steps and a key in the door.

No welcome yet till the generator comes on, lights and fire are aglow.

Time to glance at the approaching night and the sight of the moon.

Before closing the door, allowing the warmth of love to be shared and overflowing within the room.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

ODE TO A NEW DAY

 

The early morning mist the sun has kissed, meeting the river to die.

With the gentle sigh of bird wings as they flit importantly by.

A chorus of birds chirping delicately at first, before uniting their voices to give their songs a full burst.

Welcoming the new day full of cut and thrust.

The dews heavy coating in drought, encouraging insects out of their hideouts to stray.

So it begins this morning the new day.

🦋 🐞 🦅 🐦 🦆 🐝 🦋 🐞 🦅 🐦 🦆 🐝

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

WILD WEATHER

 

Oh to be out in the wild weather and the wilderness, where my roughened, damaged feelings can break free, to be grounded, before returning refreshed once more to me.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

BOOK MONTH

 

Each year it comes that special month when Books are all we can talk about, read about, and encourage our pens to write about. 

Letting our imaginations run free, bringing forth inspirational stories, agonisingly to slot perfectly into books. 

They are then placed in schools and libraries where they can be found free to be read and enjoyed. 

Each page carries you on a journey unknown, perhaps a bit scary, or releasing a giggle or two. 

Or words profound that you would like to share, so you read them aloud, sharing the content of a simply amazing book. 

I am on the hunt for a new book I can read from today, what bliss.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo by Priscilla Du Preez 🇨🇦 on Unsplash

Happy National Book Month

 

I have loved books from the age of four when I first turned pages for myself.

To secret reading in bed with a torch and proudly going to the library with my dad.

Reading in ships libraries while sailing the World oceans, to study for exams.

Working in a library to recover from an illness for a year and a half, It was like being in a candy shop, a wonderful experience.

Met some amazing read-a-holics, with lots of stories to tell.

I never thought for one moment I would ever write a book myself, I hated writing and I was dyslexic.

So you see books take you in different directions, to many amazing experiences.

Carry on reading!

❤️🧡💛💚💜❤️🧡💛💚💜❤️🧡💛💚💜

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

Happy National Book Month

 

I'm a book, a very good book, but my cover is as plain and dowdy as can be, so much so, that people browsing through the shelves fail to discover me.

I've had a few near misses when they have almost prised me out, then forced me back in again, with derision.

It's a job to coax me back into my slot, as I need to be pushed and shoved quite a lot.

To make me fit in, amongst the big, coloured glossy books that are my neighbours.

I'm waiting here, with patience, for the day when someone pulls me out and says: "I have been looking for you for simply ages!"

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

LAUGHTER SUPPRESSED

 

I covered my giggles, and smoothed smiles suppressed my laughs, at the things, you got up to in the past.

The rustle at night, with chocolates disappearing out of sight, the sound of biscuits and crisps munched contentedly in the night.

‘No not me! I do not even like them, you know I never eat them!’  Was the irritated furious reply.

The beautiful cakes left standing turned into a shell, you nibbled them from within, leaving little trace before they silently caved in.

Still, the proof was not enough!

“Not me! I hate cake!”  Was said with a very serious straight face. 

Weighing scales were brought out as proof. A quick jump on, a wriggle and a shout.

“These scales are miles out, I will have to buy new ones today.”

Oh, how we miss the tussle and laughs. Covering the pain you often bravely suffered. The lovely sense of humour is never unkind. 

The delight and pleasure you showed when welcoming the old and the young. They always responded to the goodness in you.

Margaret, you are greatly missed, a big hole you have left behind, but we are glad you have left pain, and the need, to watch what you loved to eat behind. 

We look forward to our oh-so-joyful uniting, in the fullness of time, All our love for now.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

WRITING

 

Writing was never natural to me, storytelling was.

The title writer was difficult to own, until now.

I now accept it as a gift to help others.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

I Am Here - WobblingPen

NIGHT VISITORS

 

They came every night, checked and left neither meeting nor chatting in the night.

I lay knowing they were there, as one by one they appeared on their mission to check I was Ok. 

Once satisfied they withdrew and returned to bed. 

Another visitor with four legs, was a longer companion, settling comfortably against a part of me purring. 

Until the need to move was required from either of us. 

I had a warm flush of love for each one, and their sharing of my time of need and vulnerability. 

Each of us carries a thread of vulnerability, knowledge and caring, which once combined together forms a strong bond.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

NEW DISCOVERY

 

Looking out the door, I saw a bird I had never seen before. Hopping here and there, vanishing under a garden chair.

I waited, wondering, is it still there?

Patience was rewarded as out it popped again, chewing on something in his beak, tasty enough to eat.

I hoped it would stand still, so I could have a good look at this new visitor to our garden.

Would it stay? Hard to say, as I had no idea what it liked to eat.

I would hate to offer worms if it is much preferred seeds for a late supper treat.

Dusk began to drop when it took the final hop, over the fence and away. Sadly, I still do not know who came to call.

I hope it returns when I have my camera ready.

With one click, I can capture my unknown visitor, to share with others until someone can give us its proper name.

🦋 🐞 🦅 🐦 🦆 🐝 🦋 🐞 🦅 🐦 🦆 🐝

© 2024 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

PICKING UP THE POST

 

Yesterday was a day of inspections and results, we started on a high.

The letterbox clattered I was there in a flash, to perform my most important task at the start of the day. Picking up the post and carrying it to a member of the family.

Some days, I play hard to get and wander around the room with the letters in my mouth, tail wagging before giving them up.

This past week the post seems to have become important and a disappointment. Dad has been waiting with anxiety for an official letter.

As I picked the post up, Dad appeared down the stairs. He asked me to, ‘Hand it over please Satu.’ I did as I sensed he was worried.

He sorted through the few letters in his hand, held on to one, glanced at it tore open the envelope and read anxiously. Wobbly and I sat watching him expectantly.

A smile appeared, ‘I have my driving license back I can now drive again.’

Wobbly jumped up in delight and they both hugged one another. I just pranced around sneezing and sneezing, trying to join in. It was a very important letter.

‘What a relief, I have my independence back. It is not till you lose a part of or all of your sight, that you realize how vital it is. I am a very lucky happy man. I am glad I went to seek help when those black floaters and a bit of something hanging appeared in my eyes. Apparently, that is classed as a medical emergency and should be seen and treated urgently. So pleased I went, I was not going to you know!’

‘Oh I know,’ said Wobbly, ‘ that is why I became such a nag.’

Dad replied, ‘Now we can start planning our trip.’

I was pleased as well, not sure about their mention of the trip though. That is a black cloud hanging over Lily and me, we don’t want them to go. I gave myself a leg shake to stay positive.

Satu

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

THE MOVING BUSH

 

In the silence of the early morning arising, I sat writing, greeting Facebook friends, when a fluttering noise halted what I was doing.

As I looked out the window and listened, the bush outside came alive.

A flock of sparrows, too many to count, were interested in something inside the inner branches.

Occasionally, one popped out, immediately finding a way back in.

A quarrel occurred now and then and two birds would burst into view, only to retreat quickly out of sight.

The chattering noise was so lovely to hear but it did not last long.

As suddenly as if on command, the bush became alive with lots of sparrows with much to say, struggling their way out, lining up as a squadron and flying away.

It made me realize that sparrows used to be a very common sight in my garden. Not any more!

So I was delighted with this visit, which showed there are still quite a few around.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

WALKING THROUGH

 

On walking through from the bright sunlight, into the cool and calming soothing dappled tree line.

To the change of noise with bird song coming to the fore, the quiet plop of falling leaves perhaps never heard before.

A scurry overhead as squirrels chase from branch to branch and tree to tree.

The gentle music added from the slowly flowing stream, with fish some resting, others browsing in weeds trying to remain unseen.

Water bubbling louder around some rocks, forcing it’s way through.

They were crossing the bridge, echoing a different sound, startling some rabbits having a chew.

How I love a walk in the country, you should try it you really should.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

TINY I AM LARGE I WILL BE

 

I was born so very small and had a battle from the start of life.

My mum gave birth but the rest was up to me.

I was born as big as a bean, with no eyes to see and I had to struggle up to her fur, trying to hang on with all my might till I reached her waist.

Then I thankfully slid into a very special place, where a milk bar waited for me.

I latched on to a teat and fell into a deep sleep, as she moved about to tell her friends, she had a joey in her pouch fast asleep, that was me.

It was to be my home till I was strong enough to leave.

Do you know who I am?

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

THE ELEPHANT

 

The first elephant I ever saw was made of wood. It stood firmly on a splendid wooden plinth. It was carved as though walking with one foot and trunk raised.

As a child, I could hug and pat its beautifully carved, shiny back, though I was firmly instructed not to try to lift it.

I tried once, but it was far too heavy for me as, in its raised trunk, it carries a light with lumpy shade, which bathes the room in a comfortable glow.

From the first sight, I needed to know! What is it?

More questions flowed: Where does it live? What does it eat? Is it scary? Does it bite?

So, my first feelings for Africa began, and I began to feel for its amazing people, fauna, flora, and crafts. It has taken me to her shores for some amazing, but short, visits.

The elephant that started my quest has been handed down by the family. It now rests comforting me as I read bathed in its light.

I was remembering the gatherings, both here and in Africa, with delight.

I never fail to pat the elephant, increasing the patina on its back, when I switch off the light for the night, taking the feelings of Africa with me.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

SEARCHING FOR DAWN

 

Standing warmly wrapped up on the deck of a ship, leaning on a rail, knees braced for the swinging gentle waves breaking on the bow.

Cheeks brushed by a cool steady breeze. Eyes fixed on the spot of light on the horizon.

Heralding the breaking of a new day, minute by minute pushing the darkness of the old one away.

A new dawn often carries the hope of a clean sheet of new thoughts or actions.

We often search for change as we welcome the arrival of the new dawn.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo by Torsten Dederichs on Unsplash

DESERTED WINTER BEACH

 

The snow-dressed beach few have come to stroll leaving it free for seagulls to patrol even they are reluctant to fly in search of food to eat.

Just huddled together for warmth in buildings draft proof retreats. Before being driven by hunger and a competitive streak to battle one another for food to eat in the ocean or on the street.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo by Discover Worthing

AN AUTUMNAL WALK

 

A time of beauty, as leaves change colour, and finally leave the trees, twirling their final flight from their lofty perch in the sky.

Each breeze easing them down to the ground. 

Blowing them about for a final rustle, and flurry before they crumble into the earth.

Giving nourishment for new trees, plants, insects and fungus to grow in the circle of life.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Anna Almeida

FALLING LEAVES

 

The first sight of buds growing high in the trees after the barrenness of winter brings us such pleasure.

When suddenly they burst open into fresh green leaves of various shapes and sizes, announcing the arrival of spring and the departure of winter.

They stay aloft or in clumps of bushes, with gentle breezes or violent gales to keep them actively dancing on their branches.

Giving shade and safe nesting places for the birds, and removing carbon from the air that we breathe for us.

As the summer moves on and the temperature changes, leaves begin their final swaying dance, before falling down to the ground to their slow decay, and final mulching.

Just before the leaves start falling, they change colour into gold, red, and brown, giving us cause to admire them before their complete detachment.

They have a last task to do, to provide food for other plants, trees and insects, plus fungi to enjoy.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Anna Almeida