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~…Our Book Shop…~

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January 27, 2021

Earlier today I was talking with A…. and was trying and failing(so I was thinking), at explaining something below is a little of what I wrote…

“…The only way I can describe it is… imagine a dusty book shop. Most would walk past and go to the new modern one. Some would go in and have a little look coughing and complaining of the musty smells and how old it is. But us? We’d be sat on the floor of one of the aisles lost in the wondrous depths of some well worn musty book thats seen better days and yet to us its a dreamscape to a wonderland telling fantastical tales and painting landscapes, sights and smells beyond our fantasies and depicting smells and sounds that linger with every word, every page…”

A…. is amazing and understood. I got thinking about it and thought I’d give it a try at writing our bookshop.
So A…. I hope you like our bookshop…

~…Storytellers Travels…~

Old store
on a busy street,
So many pass by
talk with people they meet,
Windows covered
in a slight layer of dust,
Looks kinda foreboding
not a building to trust,
Old golden lettering
faded by years,
Storytellers Travels
surrounded by gears,
While most pass by not noticing
some they stop and stare,
How come this dirty shop’s
still firmly trading there,
Few enter feeling brave
might find a treasure for me,
Musty smells and coughing dust
get me out in the fresh air free,
This shop is an enigma
a place untouch by age,
An ageless mystification
forgotten by modern rage,
A hulking great monstrosity
two stories looking down,
To eat up passers-by
or spew words and make them drown,
Enticed by pull of stories
she stepped inside the beast,
On sirens song she walked
eyes alighting on such a feast,
Down dusty aisles her fingers skim
books calling her one by one,
Following the call the loudest
her fingers come undone,
Four aisles over the book it sighs
she’s found the one to read,
Lean against the shelf
anticipation and such need,
Feet slide down book opens
look up and meet a gaze,
Another lost soul just like her
under a stories spellbinding daze,
Two heads bent seeing wondrous
tales,
Fantastical landscapes
mythical ship sails,
Dreamscapes and fables
weaving incandescent threads,
Spiritually entrancing animals
walk in celestial flowerbeds,
Ethereal woods with
wise elder trees,
Admonish and berate
naughty pixies on their knees,
Birds of enchanting colours
fly through kaleidoscopic skies,
Scents of heavenly fragrance
enhance star spangled eyes,
Grandfather time chimes
in the dusty old book shop,
He moans its time for bed
but the Story weaver tells him stop,
He points at the story travellers
in aisle number four,
Side by side they sit
enraptured by the book upon the floor…x.

I hope everyone gets lost in a book every now and again. Happy hugs to everyone at the end of the wire.x.

Tags: Books, bookshop, emotions, enchantment, Friends, Friendship, Hope. thoughts. feelings. words. writing. blogs. blogging. life, stories, tales

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Just a thought.

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February 27, 2016

There was once a girl who wanted so badly to visit a small island, in the center of a very large, very deep lake. Every day she walked along the shore of the lake looking at the small island. Every day a boat asked her if he could take her. Every day she politely declined.
This went on for many months with the girl looking forward to the boat talking to her. Slowly she found she began to care a great deal for the boat, and delighted in talking to it every day.
One day as the girl was walking along the shore to the boat, he again asked her if he make take her to the island? He said…. I love you and care for you. I will never do you harm, I care far to much. Let me take you to the island, you are a butterfly that deserves to roam a place as beautiful as that. I will wait for you and I am here for you. Never letting you go. The girl listened and thought the boat cared very deeply. She said yes and together they went to the island.
The girl had an amazing time exploring. She delighted in the things she saw such happiness made her bloom anew. When light started to fade, the girl went back to the shore of the island to the boat. The boat was gone. She looked and looked and called and called. The boat had left her alone.

Be careful who you trust….

Tags: Alone, blogging, blogs, emotions, Feelings, people, Perception, stories, thoughts, Words, Writing

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~ Elements…. ~

Filed under: ~ Stories ~ — 3 Comments

August 14, 2013

you’ve got 20 minutes to make up a story as you go along. Expectant child in front of you, what can you do?

“Tell me a story.” The little girl said, as I sat myself down at the end of her bed. “Which book would you like.” I said with a smile, “No. Make me a story. You haven’t done that in a while.” “Okay and just what, is this story to be about?” “Elements, ELEMENTS!” The little girl did shout. (She meant Earth,Fire,Wind,Water.) “So lay down little Princess, lay down in your bed. Stretch, yawn deeply, snuggle down, rest your body, rest your head….”

“Elements, Elements. Elements….” I said….

“I’m hot.” Said Fire dancing around “And I’m so much more deadly than you.”

“From such a teeny tiny spark, I cause utter carnage, I burn everything right through.”

“Pish posh!” Said Water with a mighty roar. “I can turn you in to nothing but steam.”

“You wouldn’t.” Said Fire.

“I would, I would.”

“You wouldn’t, cuz that would be mean.”

“I’m the most deadly.” Said water with a gurgle. “When people see me they shout.”

“I can engulf buildings, rip up trees.” “And wash cars, boats,lorries away, I can even put you out!”

Wind, who had been quiet, then piped up. “Neither of you are as deadly as me.”And with a deep breath and a crashing big woosh, he pushed Water onto Fire and put him out. Then pushed Waters tide out as far as he could see.

“See the two of you squibbly squabbalers, I’m the most powerful element that can be.”

Now earth, who did not talk very much, and who listened to all around.

He shifted his plates so very very high, to tower above the ground.

He looked at Wind and Fire and Sea(Water),

and although individual, saw what they could be.

He spoke with a voice both old and wise as he called, “Come here, Wind, Water, Fire all three.”

“Do you not understand, have you no idea, if we work together how strong we could be?”

“We are the elements, we bring death, we bring life.”

“We help feed every man and his child and his wife.”

“We were here so long ago and we will always be around.”

“From the Wind in the sky to the Fire, Water and me the Ground.”

Wind hovered, Fire glowed, Water sat so close to shore.

And for once they all agreed. No one was more deadly as all four….

“Now now little Princess, it’s time for your bed. One more cuddle for you tightly, A kiss dropped on your head.”

One more smile for you, as I walk out the door. ” I love you mummy.” “And I love you more….”

.x.

Tags: Happy, happy hugs, Kids, literature, stories, thoughts, Writing

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~ The text…. ~

Filed under: ~ Stories ~ — 6 Comments

July 29, 2013

Snow flake kisses

barest earth,

hard cold frost

signals winters rebirth,

A fleeting memory of the autumn

gone by,

As the hail sleet snow

it falls from the sky,

The wind rushes down the streets

it kicks up such a mess,

But over fields and through trees

is where its heard the best,

The train streams

over the tracks,

A series of loud

clickety-clacks,

Most strangers on board

oblivious to the snow,

Some nearing journeys end

others still so far to go,

The snow is thicker and its heavier

the wind drives it along,

Long train it keeps on going

its heavy fast and strong,

The wind shrieks down the tracks to the farmyard

it howls around the barn,

Old wool jumper left on a peg

the wind rips at its yarn,

Barnyard icy muddy

slush,

The snow the range rover tyres

crush,

Snow falls heavier

on the windscreen,

The train pushes

along unseen,

The farmer jumps out to open

the level crossings big gate,

Looks both ways up the track

jumps in his car but still he does hesitate,

Puts the big car in gear then a text from his wife

we need nappies go careful please don’t be back late,

He looks up big train whooshes by

looks like that text was fate,

Over the now empty tracks

he’s more cautious as he goes on his way,

And that is where we leave him

as night takes over this day,

The big train carries on

forever on wards through the snow,

Through empty abandoned stations

it still has far to go,

Huge flakes fall past the windows

to the passengers their unseen,

Unknowing to the accident

that could have just been,

The lights of the train just seen

an eerie echoed glow,

The train just pushing forward

on tracks covered by the snow….

.x.

Tags: inspiration, Life, literature, people, Perception, Poems, stories, thoughts, Writing

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~ Un-wonder-fuckfaced-land…. ~

Filed under: Poems.... — 3 Comments

October 12, 2012

I feel fuckin empty

an empty shattered dream,

Self loathing and self doubt

reality shattered at the seam,

Across the room there is a mirror

pop two pills and step up to,

Slosh them down with whisky neat

drag my joint and step on through,

So barren and so empty

fuck this ain’t wonderland,

Shriveled grey and dark

yup just fuckin grand,

Walkin down a cracked path

sweets dished out by a clown,

Say thanks and then I look at him

his face is upside down,

Up ahead there is a forest

made by brambles bare,

Past that a hill lit from the other side

lightning strikes it there,

In the forest there is a beetle

he blocks the path what can I do,

I start to cry and he bawls

his mouth is how to get through,

Going up the hill the path it gets narrow

an rocks stones they all stick up,

Trip fall slash my leg open

on sharp edge foot stuck in a rut,

Look down expect to see blood

but there’s maggots and there’s slugs,

All this blackness just keeps pouring out

it’s all slimy so many bugs,

I stumble ever onwards

the hill my crest of a wave,

Fall through a trap door but landing softly

at last yes I shout save,

Snake venom in a bottle

drink and try your luck,

I can’t move my limbs

shit I’m so dam stuck,

Gust of wind I

tumble out a door,

I’m not where I started

but I’ve been here before,

Bugs keep pouring

out my leg,

So many oh so many

cracking out their egg,

Stumbling down my new path

hear a high-pitched shrieking noise,

Turn a corner by a craggy tree

horrific mickey toys,

Eyes sat on his cheeks

nose is pouring red,

Meat cleaver in his four hands

bollocks it I’m dead,

Old freak face mickey

he sings me a song,

Everything spins

this is so wrong,

Open my eyes I’m

sat on the floor,

Whisky bottle upside down

balanced above the door,

The mirrors not there any more

instead a painted fairground,

Where my pills and joints

hold hands and dance around,

I grab the bottle off the table

swallow a handful of pills from once full hand,

Me and my joints I’m no longer empty

in un-wonder-fuckfaced-land….

.x.

Tags: blogging, blogs, Depression, Despair, Ideas, inspiration, Life, literature, Of broken heart and twisted mind...., Perception, Poems, stories, thoughts, Uncategorized, Writing

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Entertaining my children and….

Filed under: ~ Stories ~ — 1 Comment

October 9, 2012

…. calling my cousin dowally for hunting dragons! It’s not finished and will be continued, just a lickle bit of fun. Inspired by the….

(Septimus Heap Series) by Angie Sage

When Matthew awoke that morning, he knew today was going to be the most important day of his life. Today he was going to do what all apprentice wizards do after they turn 14…. Today Matthew was going on his quest for a dragon!

Matthew got dressed in his purple robes as fast as he could, he never got tired of examing the intricate gold thread that wove this way and that across the sleeves and hem, and then down the long flowing sides of his heavy cape. He raced down the stairs jumping over the sleeping owl that was perched on a chair at the bottom, and stood before the great doors to The Masters study.

” You may enter “. Said a loud voice as Matthew took his hand away from the door. Matthew turned the great door handle with two clicks of his fingers, ( a trick Albert had taught him ). As he entered, it never failed to amaze Matthew just how magnificent The Masters study was. Three walls were lined four stories high with every book you could imagine. The fourth wall had three-arched shaped windows facing the north. In the center was a long table and just in front of the windows was the masters huge ebony desk.

The Master stood at his desk watching Matthew walk across the room, he was called The Master by everyone and he was so old now that only the ghosts knew his real name, even The Master had forgotten. ” Here is your quest”. Said The Master, handing Matthew an ivory envelope with silver thread. “I will see you when you return “. “And remember you only have two days to complete your quest”. The Master smiled at Matthew ” Good luck and may time be on your side “.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Well thats what our new bedtime story is about and thats how far I’ve got. I always add lots of actions ( like a play). Just that little bit took nearly an hour ( yeah seriously!), and even my eldest 2 stood at the door to listen, this story is being told to a 10, 9, and 6 yr old.

I hope your all having a good morning/day/evening/night where-ever you are at the end of the wire. Hugs ALL.x.

Tags: angie sage, blogging, blogs, Happy, happy hugs, Ideas, inspiration, Kids, Life, literature, purple robes, septimus heap series, stories, thoughts, Uncategorized, Writing

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~ Men of the sands…. ~

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Among the dreams of many

your footsteps wonder light,

Bare feet kick up sand round the fire

sword gleams illustrious and bright,

A soft wind blows down the sand dunes

flares up fine soft sand grains in its wake,

The brilliance of full moon shimmers on the desert

like a lake,

The air tingles with quiet

contemplated prayer,

Tomorrow by first light

you will not have known they were there,

The shadows of the desert

men who footprints they leave none,

A glimps of ghostly echoed flame at night

but no shadows in the sun….

.x.

Tags: blogging, blogs, fire sword, glimps, inspiration, Life, literature, nature, outdoors, people, Perception, Poems, sand grains, soft wind blows, Soul, Spirit, stories, thoughts, Uncategorized, Writing

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~ More than he appears…. ~

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August 31, 2012

The flame

alight,

Burns bright

burns bright,

I touch and fall

from sight from sight,

A hallway walked down

footsteps in a daze,

From shadowed curtains misty morning light

shines through in a haze,

The memories of last night

laughter lips taste of wine,

Ghosts echo down the hall

be mine be mine,

Ties suits and long dresses

heels clatter down the hall,

Be careful on the staircase

remember to breath don’t fall,

Misty morning light shines blue

stirs dust bunnies in a haze,

Footsteps stumble grasp the wall

mind memories thoughts in a daze,

Catch a glimpse in a mirror

whisper who are you,

Just a nobody the reply

an illusion to step through,

Down spindly spirally

staircase round,

Past the first floor

your in the basement underground,

The lights they glow

muted white and red,

Can’t remember but you’ve been here

feel with unease and dread,

End door to the right is open

look and your very essence faints dead,

It drips from the walls and ceiling

life blood so red,

Implements on a table

a story of horror screams panic widespread,

Move shouts your subconscious

but your legs are now lead,

A hand caresses your shoulder

warm breath on your head,

Holds a cloth to your mouth and nose

as you slip into unconsciousness one last thought creeps under-spread,

…. “Come back with me to my home.” He said. His dark eyes shining with an unspoken desire, hunger, need. He holds out his hand, which she takes, trustingly. ” I have very eclectic tastes…. Which I think you can fulfil….” He adds quietly….

.x.