Oct 27, 2025


 









MISSING ON HALLOWEEN NIGHT


I am a cat,

Who has lost my witch!

We were flying along, 

When we hit a crow that came too close.


I was tossed off, 

Flew through the air,

Hit a haystack and tumbled into a ditch.

Oh dear oh wow where did she go?


I lost sight of her, 

I just don’t know.

If you see a witch,

Without her cat tell her

I am waiting at the haystack.


The one she just managed,

To clear by a whisker.

Tell her to hurry, 

As I am scared and miss her.


๐ŸŽƒ๐Ÿˆ‍⬛๐ŸŽƒ๐Ÿˆ‍⬛๐ŸŽƒ๐Ÿˆ‍⬛๐ŸŽƒ๐Ÿˆ‍⬛๐ŸŽƒ๐Ÿˆ‍⬛๐ŸŽƒ๐Ÿˆ‍⬛๐ŸŽƒ๐Ÿˆ‍⬛๐ŸŽƒ๐Ÿˆ‍⬛๐ŸŽƒ


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License


 











A TRICK


I was given a spell to use on a person, I knew very well.

It would amuse me to see them to hiccough nine times or ten.

It would only last two hours before fading away.

The only word to stop it in between would be Halloween.

It started OK, but the word kept slipping away.

I tried to help to say what day is it today.

If you say this word the spell will fade.

What day is it today?

It is Friday,

Which was the most frequent reply.

It was true too, but it would not do.

The spell was another word,

Try again what day is it today?

Finally in between hiccoughs loudly explosions. 

The word was heard Halloween.

The spell was at last broken.

It was fun to see them return to normal this Halloween day.


๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License


 











WHAT AM I?


Words from my pen just fly.

Where do they come from?

Who knows, not I!

The subjects vastly differ: from home and away, words people use day by day.

I am just the Pen, that places them on the page, to be read from age to age.


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo by Pixabay License 

Oct 26, 2025


 








HALLOWEEN SCARES


Halloween scares are not where you think they might be.

Some you carry about with you.

Make sure your shoelaces are tied up when you run in the dark.

Switch your torch on lighting the path ahead of you or you will go down a rabbit's warren and you might lose a shoe.

Wave your broomstick or wand ahead to break the spiders webbs or they will stick to you.

Yuck!

Keep your hat on and hair tucked away, so Bats won’t land and become tangled unable to flit away.

Be prepared for owls to hoot at you too, as they are out hunting food, not having fun like you.

Fireworks thrown too near can hurt, they should not be part of a game.

Leave them for parents to carefully arrange.

Make sure you have enough treats to balance the tricks or else you might lose a friend.

Not the way Halloween is meant to end.

Once the witching hour is past go home to lovely food to break your fast, gathering family and friends to relate all the scary parts of your Halloween.


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

Oct 25, 2025


 











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.


๐Ÿ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen 

Photo: Anna Almeida


 











TRICKS, TREATS & SPELLS!


The wind is whining through the window gap.

The doorknob rattles as it is sucked forward and back.

It is a night when spirits good and bad,

Walk the streets, playing trick or treat.

Be ready for their mischievous ways.

Please do not be too scared,

It is fun only for one night of tricks.

Dress yourselves all in black,

Drape skeleton drawings down your front and back.

Have spiders unreal to place in someone's hand.

Wait for squeals to escape and expand.

Solemn white faces are scary to see,

When Witches and Ghouls pop out at thee.

Bats take to the air flying free.

Flitting around chimney tops and tree to tree.

Then it is food glorious food waiting for you.

You will enjoy the tricks, treats and spells, 

Yahooooo!

Take the memories back home to bed with you.


๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License


 







HALLOWEEN PARTY


The fox is on his way to a shrieking Halloween party, if you are scared stay at home.

The bears are out roaming because it is too hot to tuck themselves away.

They are far too hungry to hide for a long winter’s sleep without a great big meal to eat.

Mr Fox explained at Halloween parties much is left lying around.

They just have to creep in without making a sound.

If anyone should call out in fright, stand up and roar they will flee as far away as they can.

As very scary things are expected to happen on Halloween night.

So take your pick, some of the delights might stick on your fur as you make your way wearily to your comfortable winter’s den.

Once there you can taste the treats you have carried secretly home.

Before curling up tight to snore, till the new Spring knocks a wake-up call at your door.


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License 

Oct 24, 2025


 









SHIVERS


Shivers in my knees when the crows start their scary nighttime crowing.

I head home as fast as I can through the mist lightly clinging.

Ahead I see a lantern glowing, I hope it is my dad coming to find me.

Too wit to woo Mr Owl is calling to reassure me not to be scared, as he is there to protect me from all the scary things of Halloween nights.

I hurried forward to meet my dad who gave me such a scare.

As he was dressed in a white sheet and black holes for eyes, pretending to be a ghost, I screamed I was terrified.

He pulled it off and said I am sorry it was only a bit of fun.

Come home with me now and join everyone at the Halloween party.


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License 


 










WHISKED AWAY


The other evening, just before supper, Primrose and I went out to play in the moonlight at the bottom of the garden. 

We rummaged around in our old garden shed, looking for something interesting to have fun with. Tucked away in a corner was an old-fashioned broom made from twigs and thatch, and with a stout handle. 

We dragged it outside and started sweeping the yard. As fast as we swept the leaves into heaps, they moved off and jived around in circles, being sucked up into the air. 

Each time we stopped sweeping, they collapsed to lie flat on the ground. Something strange was going on. We both took a good look at the broom. 

Sable, our black cat, appeared and said, “You had better be careful of that.” 

How come she was talking? She never had before. 

We both had a hold of the broom and suddenly we were flying, hanging on for dear life. 

Sable had hopped on, too. “I better come along just to make sure you are both ok. Climb aboard for the flight of your life.” 

At first, we flew in a straight line, giving us time to get used to our adventure, flying silently through the by-now-dark sky. 

Looking down, we could see the street lights shining brightly and some of the houses in the neighbourhood all lit up. 

We could see our house; thank goodness it was not time to go in, or Mum and Dad would be wondering where we were.

Sable sensed our anxiety and said, “They will never know about this adventure.” 

I tapped Primrose on the shoulder, “Sable is talking again; it’s almost unbelievable.” 

“But she is, I can hear her, too,” she whispered back. 

“We will have to treat her with more respect in future.” 

At that moment, we took off at an incredible speed, swooping up and down. Once we got the hang of it, we laughed out loud; it was a fantastic ride. 

Then we slowed and levelled off over a very dark wood with just a light or two showing. Suddenly, there was a fluttering of wings and a big owl joined us on the broom. 

“You won’t mind me having a rest for a while, will you? It looks as though we are going to have a busy night. Don’t look so surprised. I have been keeping a watchful eye on both of you as you have been growing up. The Woodland Committee thought you could be trusted with a night-time adventure. This was just the right time, as the witches are so busy at Halloween.” 

Primrose and I wondered what would happen next as we hung onto the broom. 

We suddenly dropped and started screaming, “We are going to crash, we are going to crash.” 

“No you’re not,” said Sable calmly. 

“Enjoy the ride.” 

We levelled off again and Mr Owl called out, “Just be ready to duck; now!” 

We flew into a tunnel and disturbed a colony of bats who protested in high-pitched squeaks. 

Two landed on the broom, thanking Mr Owl for the wake-up call. 

“It was very stormy today and we had a lie-in before going to work. We better start or we will be in trouble when the witch gets back.” 

As they flew off, there was a loud, scary, squawking noise, with flapping of wings, as a big crow landed and gave us the once over. 

“How do you like the world from here?” 

They just did not know what to say: a crow talking! It was almost too much for them. 

The crow said, “Remember this night when you went on a fabulous flight meeting some of the creatures of the night. Then, when you are grown, you can tell this story at Halloween to a family of your own.” 


๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License


 








A SPECIAL MOMENT SHARED


We switched off the lights, turned to look towards the calm sea.

The moon lit up the night sky, bathing the sea in shimmering silver.

Picking out the red and green navigational lights, like sparkling jewels nestled on the water.

It was breathtaking!

It was one of those special moments, I just wanted to share with you.


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License


 











BATTY ENTERTAINMENT


What is that flying past the window at the beginning of the night? 

It is the gathering of things called bats, preparing to go on a hunt. 

Look: there is one, now another, swooping up and down. 

They pass quickly, missing each other by a cat’s whisker, grabbing moths and other insects fluttering by. 

They keep me amused for hours with their fly-pasts in the dark. 

Humans tell tales of their antics in the past, tied up with spiders, ghosts, witches and broomsticks. 

Somewhere along the line, decorated pumpkins have been added to this terrifying time. 

Nowadays, things called sparklers and fireworks have been included to frighten me even more. 

So, on the nights of Halloween, as a dog, I keep myself safely tucked out of the way indoors, until the humans finish this time of hair-raising madness. 

Then the bats and I can recover until the next Halloween in a year’s time. 


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

Oct 23, 2025


 








SWANNING ALONG


Slowly moving after a night folded up tight against you.

We slipped into the water in synchronised motion.

With you leading from the front.

Lifting wings to flap upright

With feet looking almost as though we are walking on water.

To shake loose feathers, dust and mites

As far as possible out of sight.

Then feather preening and realigning,

As, once again, pristine white,

We dine with heads dipped in water out of view.

This is the life for me and you.


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License


 











Visit from Lily


Lily, the next door cat who wishes to be mine, has made her presence known during this very cold weather.

She pulls on my heartstrings, pawing at the glass door, calling with her desperate but gentle voice. Sitting hugging the wall, trying to dodge the rain downpours.

Finally, when freezing, squashed against the glass door to share whatever heat is there. Her visits do not follow any sort of pattern: three in the morning or one in the afternoon.

She has a perfectly good home to go to, which she has lived in since a kitten. She is now about twelve to thirteen years old.

The tipping point has been her owner rescuing a street dog from Cyprus earlier this year.

Lily is a nervous cat and cannot tolerate being alone with the dog when her owner is at work.

To top it all, the next house to them bought two kittens who have grown into big cats, one of which terrorises Lily. So Lily is desperate to be with me.

I would love to have her but can’t. We have a dog visiting frequently now and we have holidays and people visiting, too.

However, I am a sanctuary for her. We just love one another a great deal.

She is a delightful cat and we are great friends, so as soon as I see her she comes in chatting and stays for hours. We both enjoy the company.

I love her rolling purrs by my bed where she settles some times. Plus the warmth of her small body curled up on my lap.

We both enjoy the spectacle of her mad half hour, when she rushes madly at speed round the room, disappearing under a mat. Back out again and a rush around the back of the couch and out.

I do not feed her, just provide some water. I have to watch out for toileting calls and let her out. She also returns home when she is hungry.

It is here she feels safe and comes for cuddles, love and rescue, from the thug next door and the crows and magpies that attack her in the spring while protecting their young.

We have a very good arrangement I think. At the moment, she has called in after breakfast to sleep undisturbed and comfortably in a cosy wicker armchair.

I watch from a distance and pen this story from there, about my dear friend Lily the cat who wishes to be mine.


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen


 








TIGA


The day arrived when my sister was going to see her new dog. She wanted a Jack Russell.

A neighbour told us of a kennel near her friend which had Jack Russell and Patter-dale cross puppies, ready now for a new home.

We agreed to go and see them, Margaret was so excited.

When we arrived at the kennels we were taken to the puppies

There were five all black and white, at once one rushed towards us and would not leave my sister alone.

It was a female dog and kept rolling onto her back for a tummy rub.

She was almost laughing releasing little whimpers of delight.

My sister was wrapped up with the little one. I want this puppy, she said hugging the dog in her arms, she loves me.

There was no doubt about it, they were made for each other and were keen to start their lives together.

So the process of buying a dog and all the things it would need to establish it’s place in our household began.

The name was no problem it would Tiga Malay for three, as she was the third dog in the litter.

Tiga very quickly wriggled her way into our lives for good.


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

Oct 22, 2025


 








SPIDER, SPIDER!


Spider, Spider!

Spin your web!


Dainty, delicate gossamer, 

Beaded dew-drop dressed,

All your glorious work, 

Layer upon layer displayed.


On days like these, 

I can see and admire where you are.

I can avoid stumbling 

Through your perimeter wire.


Miss its clinging, 

Obstructive embrace

All around my hair, 

Neck and over my face.


Oh, I am sure while it’s wet,

You'll miss a tasty meal,

Once dry, you'll remain hidden, 

Well protected from many an eye.


๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License 


 











I am Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen 

A storyteller, writer and poet for Children and Adults. 

I started to write in 1993 for WobbingPen and have never stopped since.

My writing is about everyday life and real stories; others have a touch of fantasy. 

The subjects are diverse and demand to be written. I never know what might trigger a story, hooking the imagination. 

They arrive anytime and anywhere, with no discernible link between them, and are fun and sometimes sad to write.


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Oct 21, 2025


 








THE CREW IN WHITE COATS


The crew in white coats, beavering away with stethoscopes and microscopes.

Petri dishes nurturing new cells, and bugs battling away.

Computer chatter with calculations and new revelations.

Data gathered, scrutinised and tucked securely away.

Volunteers in the hundreds are called up as new trials are underway.

Tantalisingly, what looks so promising vanishes like the mist swirling at dawn.

Team meetings, arguments and suggestions fly.

’Til that joyous moment when, trial after trial, a cure, a miracle comes amazingly into play.

We had such possible news today, for Multiple Sclerosis, Crohn's Disease and others.

For years the crew in white coats have toiled night and day to find the clues to cure the painful life sentences carried by hundreds of thousands.

We salute you for the hope you bring for better lives ahead for millions, even the yet unborn. Brilliant. Well done.


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen


 











IT IS THAT TIME AGAIN


It is that time again when a strangeness takes over our neighbourhood.

The family start wearing all-over black and becomes secretive.

Practising blood-curdling threats, so scary I can’t repeat them even if I could.

I am a black and white cat, and I am happy about that.

In years gone by black cats had a terrible time, and knew to hide well at Halloween time.

Even today some people seek black cats to take part in their act as witches with broomsticks.

Just leave us alone somewhere at home safe and secure, away from scary humans.

I can’t see what they see in all this rushing around, scaring everyone they find.

Yet some call it fun and seem to have a great time.

Not me, wake me when it is over please, I will stay asleep in the meantime.


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

Oct 20, 2025


 








TIME AND SPACE


We all need time and space to clear our heads, to have priorities sorted and efforts made to pick up life's threads.

It's all very good to be down to earth and practical, but our spirit needs careful nurturing to be contactable.


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

Oct 18, 2025


 











SPOOKY


Halloween, that creepy time, is slowly approaching. 

Ordinary things change and become a bit scary. 

The doorbell needs answering. 

Who is there? Who is there? 

You go; you are bigger than me and know what to say. 

This is my first Halloween day for grown-ups. 

I will watch from here and then I will know what to do. 

The door opens a crack to expose lots of scary faces in black looking back. 

Oh, this is so spooky! 


๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ๐ŸŽƒ


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License 


 











WOBBLY is ready for HALLOWEEN 


Who has put a spell on me?

Where have my legs and middle bit gone?

I hope someone knows how to return me to normal, after the witching hour.

I have far too much to do, to be left like this. 

Oh my!


NOTE:

I wonder if it was that Anna up to mischief?


๐ŸŽƒ๐Ÿ‘ป๐ŸŽƒ๐Ÿ‘ป๐ŸŽƒ๐Ÿ‘ป๐ŸŽƒ๐Ÿ‘ป๐ŸŽƒ๐Ÿ‘ป๐ŸŽƒ๐Ÿ‘ป๐ŸŽƒ๐Ÿ‘ป๐ŸŽƒ๐Ÿ‘ป๐ŸŽƒ


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License 


 









THE UNHEARD SINGER, SINGING FOR A LIFE


Alice, a young girl of about fourteen, was rather shy and anxious and found it rather difficult to fit in at school.

She loved music and singing in particular, but whenever she asked to do either her anxiety took over and she made a mess of it. 

So much so that whenever an opportunity came to join the others in a show, they would say don’t ask her, she is no good.

The truth is that she had a beautiful voice with perfect pitch and real power, and she longed to sing with them. 

Instead, she used to go down to the riverside near her home and sing her heart out, with the water and the rustling leaves as her orchestra.

One day she was walking along the river bank, singing away as usual when she heard a cry from the river. 

She stopped and stood still trying hard to hear where the cry came from.

It came again faintly and there in the river, hanging on grimly, to one of the trailing branches of a big willow tree, was a young boy. 

She knew at once she could not reach him as she was too short.

Then she remembered passing two men on their way to play cricket in the nearby field. If she could just get them to help. 

However, the young boy was at the end of his strength and she felt if she left him he might let go.

So she decided to use her voice to sing for help. 

She sang her message, ‘Help, help, a boy is drowning in the river, by the big willow tree, come quickly, help us, help us. 

Her voice soared loudly and clearly above the river sounds, repeating its message time and time. 

Every so often she stopped to call encouragement to the boy in the river.

Then help arrived. It was the two men she had passed earlier. 

They had turned back when they heard her singing, and because it was so beautiful they listened and heard the important message, and came at once, running as fast as they could across the field straight to the willow tree.

They soon formed a chain and pulled the lad from the river he was so grateful, but he could hardly speak as his teeth were chattering. 

Using his portable phone, one of the men called for an ambulance.

They both turned to congratulate Alice on her life-saving performance, and her wonderful voice, but  Alice had reverted to her usual anxious state and slipped away when everyone was busy.

A few days later, one of the men was explaining what had happened to a friend who was a newspaper reporter, who then decided to find Alice. 

He found her at school the next day and spoke to the headmistress about Alice’s amazing feat. 

She arranged to announce the event to the school and publicly congratulate Alice. 

At first, it was quite an ordeal for her, but then her spirit soared, ‘No one wanted me to sing before now they can’t wait to hear me.’ Then she gave her second lifesaving performance. 

The life she was saving this time was her own and you could have heard a pin drop as she sang. In the end, there was a moment's complete silence before the thunderous applause. 

Alice had saved herself from a lifetime of anxiety and fear.


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

Oct 17, 2025


 











DAPPLED WALK


In the dappled shade, a cricket sings, to entice a lady to come wandering.

Ants, moving in lines as though under orders to gather insect corpses, to move them out of sight to their underground houses.

Waiting to provide food when work stops for the day.

A snail starts its leisurely walk, munching greenery on the way.

Spiders paragliding in a frantic effort to repair their webs, ready to capture unwary insects during the new day.

As humans, some of us see what is going on.

Others gaze towards the sky, admiring birds and tree branches high, which produces music all day long.

I draw breath and start to sing in praise of peaceful feelings, a dappled walk can bring.


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License


 









WHY WRITE


The love of writing and storytelling is the driving force that propels us to put our work out.

So I am sure like me, you write for love if it soars wonderful.

If not you leave a footprint on life for others to read in the future, at the edge of a small pond.


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

Oct 16, 2025


 








THE BLACK HAT TALE


I am a donkey called Fernando, living with a lovely man in the coastal hills of Spain.

Sometimes on my journeys, I can see, when up a hilltop, a huge amount of water they call the sea.

Strange, as very few people I know have been there or seen it, except from up here, when we pause each day, on the highest hilltop, to rest and have a drink and some hay.

I gazed towards the sea, wishing I could visit one day.

The day when it came was so exciting: my owner had a rich nephew who had phoned with an invitation.

“Come on down to the seaside. I will pay; it is fiesta day.”

My owner’s face lit up in excitement, which quickly faded away.

“Thank you, my nephew. I have to humbly say no. I have Fernando, my donkey, to look after. I cannot leave him and go, as there are wild dogs here and they would hurt him, I know.”

“Bring him with you. I will send a truck to give you both a ride. Fernando will be safe in my stable with Marie, my donkey, and we can join the fiesta, with music, horses and noisy marching bands. We can walk together on the golden sand with Marie and Fernando running freely in and out of the water, and rolling in delight, wildly on the sand. Marie knows how to be safe in the water; she will take Fernando in hand.”

“Ok, we will come.”

“Stay the night with me,” the nephew said. “Then we can celebrate without worry if we drink one drink more than planned.”

So my owner washed me down, brushed me like mad, and polished my reins and brass bits until they looked the best they ever had.

Then he brought a lovely black hat to me, which he said had a story to tell.

It fell out of the sky during a terrible gale and landed at his feet. He tried to find the owner, but failed.

So he kept it in the cupboard in case someone might like to wear it.

“That day has now come. I am going to give it to you to wear. I will cut holes for your ears and tuck flowers in the headband. You will become Fernando, one of the most handsome donkeys in this land.”

A year later, the nephew rang again, “Uncle, it is fiesta time again. Please come with Fernando. I will send a lorry for you both, just like last time.”

My old man sighed deeply, as he did not imagine he would be asked again. It had been a very hard year for Fernando and him.

He drew himself up, saying, “Yes, nephew; we will come.”

Next day, after being groomed very thoroughly, and with a case with all that we both needed, we were loaded onto the lorry for our trip to the seaside.

I was led to the stable where Marie greeted me in excitement, leaning out her head, hee-hawing, “Hee-haw, hee-haw.”

I replied in a language only we understood. Suddenly, I stopped in puzzlement, as another young voice called from the stall.

The nephew opened the stable door, saying, “This is the surprise I have had for you both. Marie has a foal called Miranda. I have been longing to tell you, but decided to wait till fiesta day came around once more.”

So, as a lovely family united, we set off, with my black hat firmly in place, ready for a great family fiesta day out.


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Daniela Silvia Serban


 











The Penny Took A Long Time Dropping


There are times when ordinary conversations turn from sensible to hysterical in a moment.


Last night was one of those times. Anna and I started a perfectly ordinary conversation on the subject of adapting a house, to make some room changes.

I explained what I planned to do, when Anna said, “and the TV could go in the hall, people have it there these days.”

I thought for a moment then asked, “Why on earth should I have to stand up in the hall to watch the television, when we have two perfectly suitable rooms to watch it in already.”

There was a pause, followed by frantic banging on the wall before the penny dropped.

Her lovely Portuguese accent had got in the way she meant wall not hall.

We could not stop laughing for ages.

As I drew the picture of us standing in the hall watching the television.

Anna said, my face was a picture of puzzlement, as I tried to work out why she thought we needed to do such a thing.

We thought we would share this classic bit of Wobbly humour with you, to lighten your day.

Another recent classic, was when Anna chose to post a story I wrote about a dog called Blackie. When I looked at the post the next day there was a picture of a beautiful golden Labrador, not a flea-bitten tripe hound called Blackie. 

Laughter was the order of the day then as well.

We have decided to share more Wobbly humour with you, as it occurs, as life is far too serious at the moment.


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Oct 15, 2025


 








THE BEST DOG I EVER HAD


When travelling in a Taxi we were told a wonderful story.

A gentleman told us, he used to own a motor car business, in a part of London, that was in constant threat of robbery and vandalism.

A friend said, ‘What you need is a dog, a fierce dog.’

So I went to the local dog’s home and asked for a fierce dog.

A staff member said

‘There is one in cage number 2, on the left, he’s really mean.’

I wandered along till I reached cage 2, a streak of fur hurled itself at the bars snarling, lip curled back showing a good set of teeth and snapping incessantly, barking in between.

I stood looking at him and thought,

‘I do not need the amount of grief, you look like you might bring me.’

I went back to the office and asked. ‘Is there another dog I might have.‘

‘Yes, he is a bit wet though, no one wants him. He is in cage 8.’

I strolled along to give him the once over.

At first, I thought it was an empty cage and looked up to check the number.

Suddenly I saw a slight movement in the corner, a tightly curled up bundle of fur.

I called out several times before, there was movement and a pair of sad eyes turned towards me.

I knelt to ground level put my fingers flat on the bars and spoke gently to him.

At first, nothing happened, slowly he unwound and crawled along the floor and stretched his neck out and stuck his tongue, between the bars and licked my hand.

That was the moment our hearts, made that amazing unbreakable connection.

We had a wonderful life together and he turned out to be the best dog I ever had.


2025 © by Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License


 











Yesterday: A Touch of the Past


A totally unexpected, amazing thing happened here yesterday, apart from the delightful and welcoming arrival of Anne Watts to join Anna Almeida, who is staying with us on holiday. 

Together, who knows what will happen when we join our minds and efforts for children and people in need or distress at the moment? 

It’s a huge task, but if we tackle it a bit at a time within our capabilities, a small patch might grow into a quilt.

Anne is settling in, and the friends who brought her surprised me with an extraordinary, precious letter from Florence Nightingale no less! It was such a thrill to hold and read something very few have seen. 

It had been kept by a family member who died out, leaving it to Anne’s friend. 

Anne suggested I might like to see it. Indeed I did; what a thrill. 

What an unexpected and wonderful experience!


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo by melanfolia ะผะตะปะฐะฝั„ะพะปั–ั on  Unsplash

Oct 14, 2025


 









TREES


Trees, shedding their leaves, showing colourful autumn dressing, becoming objects of wonder to behold.

Having lost all their summer floral dressing, stand shivering and shaking in winter's violent cold.

Standing exposed for birds and squirrels to chase and dive through, providing shelter in cosy hollows deep in their warm, wooden insides.

Bark peels and splits to show new and sweet-smelling wood.

In spring, buds burst forth, expanding canopies of beautiful fresh green.

Ready to provide blossom, some sweet smelling, always colourful, and food for the awakening bees and other treetop dwellers.

We owe them our admiration and vigilant protection, so that they may continue to grow and multiply this circle of life for other generations to admire.


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License 

Oct 13, 2025


 








Happy #NationalBookMonth 


BOOK WORM


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!"


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen 

Photo: Pixabay License


Oct 12, 2025


 








SIMPLE LIFE 


Most of the inhabitants of this World seek to live and value simple lives. 

It is the minority who work to greedy, selfish agendas, that seek to destroy what most of us cherish. 


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo by Andrew Stutesman on Unsplash


 








RAIN


Pitter, patter rain splatters steadily down my windowpane,

Wind-driven louder rattles earn my interest now and again,

Little raindrops start their hit and run the minute they kiss and shatter on the glass.

A single drop joins the relentless slow build-up, playing stops and goes slipping and sliding down very fast.

All of a sudden the window ledge stops the drops and rain shoots off, forming a small puddle on the path.

When only a shower it evaporates to fall as rain once again, somewhere a little further off.

If it has been born from a storm, heavy bashing rain comes crashing and shatters in torrents on the glass.

It shoots off in waterfalls of thundering power, down off the ledge throwing pebbles haphazardly into space.

It is desperate to join the pounding throng of gallons of water in a mad chase.

Ever moving forward into the river increasing its power and pace.

Playing its music with bursts of froth and dramatic showers of spray.

Then after all the tremendous active water gymnastics, It swirls out of the river mouth and across the bay.

To be pampered by gentle breezes to soothe and move all it's aggression away.

So please spare a thought for the rain.


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

Oct 11, 2025


 












 










TALK ABOUT IT, TALK ABOUT IT!


Talk about it, talk about it with me.

Together when you are ready, you can explore the pain with me.

I will listen as you turn the key, revealing the pain locked inside you.

When you are ready, I might gently ask the question, “How may I help?”

Talk about it, talk about it, if not to me, someone else.

Support is out there if you want to take it; together we can find it.

Hold on tight, don’t let go; you are so precious to us. 

Just because there is no bloody wound to see, I know you are suffering just as painfully.

Talk to me, talk to us, share your unthinkable, terrible pain.

Hold on, as with tiny, hesitant steps, together we slowly make small understanding gains.

Talk to me, as smiles and laughter slowly creep into our memory exchange.

Just keep on talking to me, or someone else.


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Oct 9, 2025


 








I AM NOT A BUG!


Hello, what a lovely bug you are.

๐Ÿž I am not a bug! I am a bird!

No you're not; you’re a bug like me.

๐Ÿž I am not a bug, I tell you.

You look like me, though in much brighter colours and I am a ladybug.

๐Ÿž Well I am not! I am a ladybird!

Where did you come from to be so misinformed? I bet it was from that place called America.

Yes, I am. How did you know that?

๐Ÿž Because some of your ancestors left here and over there changed some of our words. How they decided to change my name to bug I will never understand! Most bugs are called ugly here. I am not. I am a beautiful ladybird. You must be hungry coming all that way?

I hitched my way on a few ships, rested on some islands, never knew where I was going till I hopped off here. It looks a mighty fine place.

๐Ÿž Why don’t you join me? I see something tasty over there. Just remember I am a ladybird and we will get on just fine. Don’t try to change any more of our words.


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License


 








TRAMPING OFF ON LEAVES


Tramping off to school, with the wind playing boisterous games,

Flicking old leaves off branches, sailing slowly to the ground.

I am covered in confetti while grasping the whole different coloured leaves to my chest.

To press later for a collage, to present and share in the class.

Dodging low branches trying to whip my hat away, made a quick grab with a hand, to help it to stay.

Glancing down at the pavement with it's zigzagging cracks, I already for a hop, skip and a big puddle jump.

Meeting my friends we entered school, arguing, giggling, and laughing.

Jostling, we settled into line until our names were called out.

Those were the days when we were footloose and fancy-free.

However, I am quite glad, they are now well behind me.


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

Oct 8, 2025


 








ADORATION


While patiently waiting for the lights to change at a traffic junction, I smiled at the sight of a young Yorkshire terrier, gazing adoringly at his elderly owners.

How lovely to have such a devoted dog, I thought.

Looking up, I laughed, as they had just come out of the butcher's shop.

Glancing back, I saw the dog licking his lips in anticipation and prancing in between them.

He would have to wait, as it looked as though more shopping was needed.

Only then would the smells in the bag be turned into food for his tummy.


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License


 











Oct 7, 2025


 








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, with 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.

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.


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License


 







Quote: 


Change happens only when you gain the courage to let go of the past and bravely face new experiences.


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo by Ross Findon on Unsplash


 











Oct 6, 2025


 










IT AIN’T NO FUN BEING A CHILD TODAY


It’s no fun being a child today.

When indoors, we are told we should be out.

“Are you on that computer again? I have told you it is for homework only.

“It is not for those mind-ruining computer games, costing us a fortune.”

When we go out, we are quizzed, “Where have you been? I told you not to leave the street and to be back by six. Who were you with? Your meal is ruined.”

It ain’t no fun being a child today.

School bombards us with homework my parents don’t know how to do; even they do not have the answers. It’s miserable.

Computer games are fun at first but become a bore.

When we realise we need the vital human interaction, rough and tumble, friends to have forever more,

We have to grope our way through good and bad bullies on the way.

It ain’t no fun being a child today.

Holidays have changed. There is less and less for us to spend, as times are hard.

If the parents bend to the cries of, “Oh Mum, Dad, please can we go to a show just once? Our friends have”,

The pain is felt on the return home, when the bills come in and we all have to think thin and do without other things.

It ain’t no fun being a child today.

Bad news at school: someone died; a drug overdose.

The danger is always there; touts hanging around the school gates,

Peer pressure trying to make others join the deadly mind and life destroying path.

Not for me. I have other plans.

It ain’t no fun being a child today.

I have a plan to change it: work hard at school, keep my family and good friends close,

Help others in my street, seek to volunteer, when Mum and Dad say I can.

Jobs are few and far between at holiday times, and volunteering gives work for idle hands and minds. Skills and friendships acquired last for a lifetime.

Things are changing, slowly it is true, but there are now more things arranged to do.

As a family, we have more to say about what we each do day by day.

Budgets are planned so we understand how they have to stretch to meet our needs.

We never used to understand, with heads buried in the sand.

Things are changing. Hope they are for you, too.


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Oct 4, 2025


 









#WorldAnimalDay


SWING, SWING!


Swing, swing!

Can you hear the birds up in the trees?

Making me swing with their melodies.

My body moves with a rhythm all it’s own.

Swing, swing!

Come on, join in this joyful song.

Fingers click, feet flick,

Small jump in celebration.

The ducks in the pond

Quack along in delight.

Swing, swing!

The horse in the meadow kicks up his heels.

Encouraging the cows

To join in the dance and melody.

Moo, neigh! Neigh moo,

Another two will do.

Swing, swing!

Keep it going Mr Owl has woken.

He has just added his wit to woo

The best he can do.

Mr frog has croaked loudly

Three times in tune.

Swing, swing!

Sing to this wonderful chorus.

Those who hear us

Will always remember.

When they first heard

A real dawn chorus.


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License


 








WOULD YOU LIKE A STORY?


Would you like a story?

Would you like a tale?

One filled with terror, murder and mystery.

Or maybe one dodging bomb blasts and bullets, across a country at war.

No? Perhaps a sweet little fairy tale to gently take you away from it all?

Maybe you would love the thrill of a romance that sweeps you into someone’s arms,

Embracing in the moonlight, on a ship’s deck, engines pulsating gently beneath your feet.

Being transported on a flight to a tropical paradise, to an adventure with sun, fun and amazing new food to try.

Or how about a journey across an immense desert, swaying on a camel’s back?

With stars twinkling in the darkness, as companions overhead, shining light

Beamed from millions of miles away, lightening up the canopy in the most spectacular way.

Or would you like to meet an animal never seen before,

Which does not want to hurt or eat you, just love you forever more?

Each one of these is possible lying tucked up in your bed.

With a book in hand, written by a writer with an imagination,

Capable of leaving the gift of wonderful stories

To be relived again and again inside your head.

Perhaps you could pick up a pen and release stories you have kept locked away.

Maybe now might be the time to share them. Go on—give it a go!


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Oct 2, 2025


 












NATIONAL POETRY DAY 


LITTLE SPARROW


Little sparrow sitting on the bough.

Trying to decide what today’s weather might bring.

Yesterday was terrible and onto a sheltered branch, he had to cling.

As the wind ruffled and tugged at his feathers.

Today looked more promising, the sun was shining.

The wind just a gentle sigh passing by.

He flew to the highest branch of the tree.

To bathe in the sun and sing a joyful song for you and me.


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Illustrator by Francisca Ferro Duarte

Oct 1, 2025


 








Happy #InternationalMusicDay 


THE CALL OF MUSIC


Walking along the street I hear music calling,

Louder, louder, louder.

My pace starts to change to match the beat,

Faster, faster, faster.

One step forward, two back, three forward,

Stamp, stamp, stamp.

Step to the left then to the centre again and to the right and back again,

Sway, sway, sway.

Arms upswing to the left and right, above head, wrists join the action,

Clap, clap, clap.

My whole body moves to the wonderful sound, and I Sing sing sing.

Music has the power to move us as it grows louder and faster, encouraging, stamping, swaying, clapping, singing and quiet listening.


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License 


 








Happy #InternationalMusicDay 


SING, SING, SING!


Tomorrow I will sing sing sing,

Will the joy of living pouring out of me.

Words of feeling to share around,

To help feet strengthen on the ground.

Tomorrow I will sing sing sing.

With my body in rhythm swaying

Telling a story to lift spirits

To take them to a joyous place

Tomorrow I will sing sing sing

With my heart releasing

Each word with as much feeling.

To send everyone into happiness reeling.

Sing, sing, sing!

Everybody sing, sing, sing!


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License


 








WHAT WOULD WE DO?


What would I do without you and you without me?

It is a time I hope we never see.

I hope our lights go out together, so neither of us would be lonely, losing laughter, love and touch and cuddles in the dark.

What would I do without you and you without me?

Life would take on a different meaning.

There would be no welcome key in the door, as you would not live here anymore.

You would miss my silly stories and cosy natters when I am invited to depart.

What would I do without you, and you without me?

Let's hope it is never put to the test, as it is so hard to contemplate.

Squabbles we have had, lasting only minutes; making up so important to do, showing how much being together has meant.

Don’t leave me and I will not leave you.

If we have to separate and there is a heaven, let us promise to meet there, keeping the earthly connection, turning it into a heavenly one.

Love like ours should never ever die.

You should never be without me or I without you.


2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License