Issue 407 RBW Online

Issue 407 2nd October 2015

2

FLASH FICTION: Random Words: mind, library, cycle, paralytic, impos-

ter, rugby, affair, contemplate, whisky, morning, colourful, exclaimed

Assignment: Light

A warm welcome awaits. COME to WORKSHOP ... Every Monday 1.30 start Rising Brook Library

GO ON .. HAVE A CHUCKLE ... (FACEBOOK QUOTES)

The Great Modern Day Philosophers ....

~ John Glenn

As I hurtled through space, one thought kept crossing my mind - every

part of this rocket was supplied by the lowest bidder.

~ Desmond Tutu...

When the white missionaries came to Africa they had the Bible and we

had the land. They said 'Let us pray.' We closed our eyes. When we

opened them, we had the Bible and they had the land.

~ David Letterman...

America is the only country where a significant proportion of the popula-

tion believes professional wrestling is real but the moon landing was

faked.

~ Old Italian proverb...

After the game, the King and the pawn go into the same box.

~ Jean Kerr...

The only reason they say 'Women and children first' is to test the strength

of the lifeboats.

~ Zsa Zsa Gabor...

I've been married to a communist and a fascist, and neither would take out

the garbage.

~ Jeff Foxworthy...

You know you're a redneck if your home has wheels and your car doesn't.

Emo Philips...

A computer once beat me at chess, but it was no match at kickboxing.

~ Harrison Ford...

Wood burns faster when you have to cut and chop it yourself.

~ Spike Milligan...

The best cure for Sea Sickness, is to sit under a tree.

~ Robin Hall...

Lawyers believe a person is innocent until proven broke.

~ Jean Rostand...

Kill one man and you're a murderer, kill a million and you're a conqueror.

~ WH Auden...

We are here on earth to do good unto others. What the others are here for,

I have no idea.

~ Jonathan Katz...

In hotel rooms I worry. I can't be the only guy who sits on the furniture

naked.

When you agree to do a talk

at Brereton, it is a good idea to make sure that the Brereton

you know is the one they mean, which is over 30 miles

away! The footbridge over the river

at Radford Bank was fes-tooned with spiders‘ webs,

which looked for all the world like lace doylies hanging out to dry on a washing line.

FAIRNESS & BALANCED

MEDIA REPORTING:

When reporting „over-spending‟

hospitals should these hospitals be

referred to rather as

„under-funded‟?

www.issuu.com/risingbrookwriters

Random Words: - professor cheering, surprise, detergent, celebration, frisk, bow-

wave, green

The girls who worked in the laboratory enjoyed their work and were genuinely fond of their professor. They were engaged in producing a new brand of shower gel called ‗Frisk‘, which was meant to invigorate the user, but was ecologically harmless to the environment and hoped it would turn out to be a best-seller. So popular was their boss that when his birthday came round, they decided to arrange a very special celebration surprise for him: one hopefully, he would never forget. He loved boats, and all things maritime, so they booked a river cruise for him and his team, complete with on-board dinner. As they chugged along in the sunshine, one of them leaned over the side of the vessel and poured a bottle of the green liquid detergent into the bow-wave. It frothed up, churned up by the boat‘s propeller, and they proceeded along like a

bride with a long lacy train, walking up the altar. A passer-by snapped the event on his mobile phone, and next day, it made the papers. ―Prof‘s frisky birthday,‖ the headline read. ―Well, it‘s great publicity! I think you girls deserve a modest pay rise!‖ the pro-fessor beamed.

SAY NOT THE STRUGGLE NAUGHT AVAILETH Arthur Hugh Clough

Say not the struggle naught availeth, The labour and the wounds are vain, The enemy faints not, nor faileth, And as things have been they remain. If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars; It may be, in yon smoke concealed, Your comrades chase e‘en now the fliers, And, but for you, possess the field. For while the tired waves, vainly breaking, Seem here, no painful inch to gain, Far back, through creeks and inlets making,

Comes silent, flooding in, the main. And not by eastern windows only, When daylight comes, comes in the light, In front, the sun climbs slow, how slowly, But westward, look, the land is bright.

Arthur Hugh Clough 1 January 1819 –

13 November 1861)

was an English poet, an

educationalist, and

devoted assistant to

the nurse

Florence Nightingale.

He was the brother of

suffragist Anne Clough,

who became principal of

Newnham College,

Cambridge.

Assignment: Reputations "Some talk of Alexander and some of Hercules, Of Hector and Lysander and such great names as these But of all the worlds great heroes there's none that can compare With the tra lalala lalala lalala with the British Grenadiers.‖ Hm, reputations, let's consult Mr Google, or perhaps we should call him Lord Google, he seems to rule the world with his sidekick Prince Wikipedia. What have they got to say? 'Alexander' "Single-handedly changed the nature of the ancient world in little more than a decade... Founding over 70 cities and creating an empire that stretched across three continents... A military genius who led by example although his belief in his own indestructibility meant that he was often reckless with his own life and those of his soldiers... Hercules - just a common labourer so it seems. Hector - led the Trojans in the defence of Troy killing 31,000 Greek fighters n the

process. Homer places Hector as peace loving and thoughtful .... Hm... Lysander - an admiral in charge of the Spartan fleet who defeated the Athenians in 406 bc. The British Grenadiers? Well they've done some good things in their time - like helping win the war to put an end to Hitler and his concentration camps and liberate our conquered friends in Western Europe. Reputations, reputations.... Newspapers have their reputations too. Since my wife died my elder daughter has been keeping an eye on her old dad. "You ought to try reading some different newspapers." She said, eyeing my Daily Mail disdainfully. "Try the Times or the Guardian." "The Guardian!" I thought, "Whatever next!" But I did take note of what she said and during my holiday I did buy and I did read the Guardian five or six times. And I didn't come out in pink spots all over, after all.

Poem on Light : Milton. On His Blindness When I consider how my light is spent, Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, And that one Talent which is death to hide Lodged with me useless, though my Soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, lest he returning chide; ―Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?‖ I fondly ask. But patience, to prevent

That murmur, soon replies, ―God doth not need Either man‘s work or his own gifts; who best Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state Is Kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed And post o‘er Land and Ocean without rest: They also serve who only stand and wait.‖

Random words: - guts melodrama sea definitely oasis desperate township flying ecstasy select Mexico

Tumo was desperate to escape his miserable life in the township, but he seemed doomed to live out his life in poverty and deprivation. He longed to go to be an archaeologist and visit Mexico, having seen pictures of La Quemada and especially Quetzalcoatl which to him was a magical oasis in a fascinating landscape. One evening, his wife Siko cooked a stew. She had been careful to select the ripest ingredients from the market stall, but Tumo felt unwell after eating it, and had a pain in his guts. He slept fitfully that night, but even-tually nodded off and had a vivid dream about flying across the sea on wings, and coming to earth in…..Mexico! He was in ecstasy amongst the famous sites he had longed to experience in his imagination. When he woke up next day, and found himself still in the rundown shack, he berated his wife for her cooking. “You nearly killed me with that stew!” he accused. “Don’t make such a melodrama out of a bit of stomach ache,” she remonstrated. “You are definitely a drama queen and I am happy to let you do the cooking from now on!” she snapped, unsympathetically.

Assignment: - Light The Lord above, he made the light. T’was on a Monday morn. And so it was that calendars And day and night was born. Before He started, all was dark, So nothing could be seen. Mind you, there were no people yet To look upon the scene. On Tuesday, sky came into being, And water kept in check, So God’s latest plan to make dry land The oceans wouldn’t wreck God named the earth and then the sea

And with it all was happy “I’ve still got plenty more to do” He said, “I must get snappy!” He put the stars up in the skies And fish within the seas. “I’d like some birds and beasts To dwell here, if you please.” Then God created human beings. I wish he’d changed His mind! For by our selfish actions You can’t say that we’re ‘mankind’!

Images of old

Stafford

From

Stafford Silver

Surfers Group

Facebook

Reproduced here

and on the

front cover

by kind permission

of

Craig Hugh

Kubla Khan Samuel Taylor Coleridge

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree: Where Alph, the sacred river, ran

Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea.

So twice five miles of fertile ground With walls and towers were girdled round;

And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills, Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree; And here were forests ancient as the hills,

Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!

A savage place! as holy and enchanted As e‘er beneath a waning moon was haunted By woman wailing for her demon-lover!

And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,

As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing, A mighty fountain momently was forced: Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst

Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail, Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher‘s flail:

And mid these dancing rocks at once and ever It flung up momently the sacred river.

Five miles meandering with a mazy motion Through wood and dale the sacred river ran, Then reached the caverns measureless to man,

And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean; And ‘mid this tumult Kubla heard from far

Ancestral voices prophesying war! The shadow of the dome of pleasure

Floated midway on the waves; Where was heard the mingled measure From the fountain and the caves.

It was a miracle of rare device, A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!

A damsel with a dulcimer

In a vision once I saw: It was an Abyssinian maid And on her dulcimer she played,

Singing of Mount Abora. Could I revive within me

Her symphony and song, To such a deep delight ‘twould win me,

That with music loud and long,

I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome! those caves of ice!

And all who heard should see them there, And all should cry, Beware! Beware!

His flashing eyes, his floating hair! Weave a circle round him thrice, And close your eyes with holy dread

For he on honey-dew hath fed, And drunk the milk of Paradise.

Samuel Taylor Coleridge; 21 October

1772 – 25 July 1834) was an English

poet, literary critic and philosopher

who, with his friend William Words-

worth, was a founder of the Romantic

Movement in England and a member of

the Lake Poets.

He wrote the poems The Rime of the

Ancient Mariner and Kubla Khan, as

well as the major prose work

Biographia Literaria.

Coleridge coined many familiar words

and phrases, including suspension of

disbelief.

9

Gardening Tips for September ... Frances Hartley

The nights seem to be drawing in very early this year as the

herald of an early Autumn, but the bedding plants are still

making a good show, especially the Geraniums and Surfinnia

Petunias. The Sweet Peas have been really wonderful this

year and I have had about 4 vases full of lovely, very scented

flowers round the house. As you opened the front door to

come in, the scent greeted you, but the plants started to pro-

duce a lot of seed pods and so had to come out and go on he

compost heap. The lovely coloured Gladiolas are now com-

ing into full flower and have taken over, such stately plants.

The orangey/yellow Rudbeckias and Gaillardia are starting to bloom and are also

looking bright in the borders.

We had a very large and old, common Buddleia that we decided to fetch out and

when my son started to remove it he found that it was quite rotten. The old wood

was chopped up and disposed of, but we stripped all the leaves off the younger,

flowering stems, and found they were good enough to use as canes to give some

light support to the Chrysanthemums and other Herbaceous plants. Normally, you

wouldn‟t prune Buddleias hard back yet, so wouldn‟t be able to cut the “canes” un-

til later when it was too late to use them. While they are still green at this time of

year they are quite strong, but as they dry they will go brittle and be no use. How-

ever, who knows as they are green, some might root and then they can be potted up

and used elsewhere or passed on to friends or family.

If you have grown Strawberry plants this year, there should be some nice little run-

ners growing by now. These should be pegged down, if you haven‟t already done it,

either into the soil, or into some small pots. After a week or two the main runner

can be cut and you will have lots of new, small plants for next year to refresh your

Strawberry bed.

One of my sons has a large Cooking Apple tree in his garden that has started drop-

ping apples and although they are not quite ripe, he has brought me some that I

have peeled and sliced before dropping them in cold water and lemon juice. This

stops them going brown before, quickly and gently, dabbing them dry and then

freezing them. They will go nicely with all the Rhubarb that we have been picking

from our allotment, to make crumbles in the Winter. Sadly there will be no figs this

year on my Brown Turkey Fig. I thought it had died in the Winter, but at least it did

survive and has now come into full leaf again.

We had some large, self-set Teasels that my younger son has cut and hung in the

garage to dry which I can spray for Winter decoration. I also have some Loquat

leaves from another small tree that succumbed last Winter. The leaves are like Aspi-

distra leaves in size and also look nice sprayed. We have planted another Loquat in

place of the Buddleia that we removed, so hopefully I will have some more leaves

next year. My flower presses are full with flower heads and a few small leaves that

will be ready by Christmas to make into cards.

Well that‟s all for now. Frances Hartley

“ALL THAT

JAZZ”

Won the vote and

will be the next

RBW farce.

ALL THAT JAZZ. CAST OF CHARACTERS

Many of these characters are two dimensional as yet: where you have a physical description in mind please write it in some-where so that we all know about it. AND check these notes for updates and send in any updates please.

Hotel staff free for all to use - opening gambits by CMH. Nigel Thomas Bluddschott – Manager part owner of ‗Hotel Bluddschott'. Married to Winifred. Tubby, balding, brown hair,

brown eyes, 34, 5' 7‖ tall. Tenor voice but wobbly and hesitant unless using a prepared script. Not good at thinking on his feet. If something CAN go wrong it WILL. Smuggles brandy, fags and other taxable goods as a part time job.

Winfred Alice Bluddschott (nee Gray) – Manager part owner of ‗Hotel Bluddschott'. Wife of Nigel. Plump more than tubby, brown hair bleached blonde, brown eyes, 35, 5' 6‖ tall. MUCH more capable than hubby with a hard edge to her speech.

CMH.

Sally Gray. - A MYSTERY WOMAN in any case. Don't know (yet) if she's staff, entertainer (torch singer or fan dancer) or

guest. Youngish woman. Tall, hazel eyes, auburn hair, very capable. I have her earmarked as an ex-QA/WRNS/WRAF

officer who has just completed her time & wants to 'get away from it all'. BUT, she could be something entirely different! Norbert Bunbury. Staff, driver and odd job man at the HB. Was Infantryman – possibly W.O.2 (Sgt. Maj.) or higher. I fancy a field promotion, mid 1918, not a Sandhurst man – with a few gongs to his credit. Tall, brown eyes, dark brown hair. Well built.

Comic relief characters. CMH + AT You never know! These ladies may, be descended from those who went with Captain Fowlnett onboard 'The Star' in 'Packet

to India'. They are middle aged, overweight, often 1-over-the-8 and about to be tented! Vera Accrington - Gloria Stanley - Dorothy Calcutt (their young flapper niece) may put in an appearance.

Hired Manservant — poor soul NP Griggleswade (Griggles). Flyboy. Ex-RAF now working for M.I.5 (or something) as some kind of 'Air Detective'. Ch. Supt. Chorlton-cum-Hardy. Previously Colonel. Griggles superior officer in M.I.5

Mossy. Working with Griggles.

Windle. Working with Griggles. Jones. Aircraft mechanic works for Griggles. Wilhelm von Eisenbahn, aka Osbert Lessly or 'Big Shorts'. Khaki Shorts leader. Comrade 'Ironside' aka Joseph. Lenin boys leader. Comrade Plotskie aka Leon. Assistant to 'Ironside'.

ACW. Christiana Aggott posing as Lady Arbuthnot Christian. Novelist. Actually married to Col. Beaumont Walsgrave but using

a nom-de-plume for secrecy; & for advertising purposes about her new book, 'The man who shed crocodile tears'. (This neatly gets the requisite reptile into the plot line)

Arbuthnot Aggott or Uncle Arbuthnot. Head of a Security Organisation (Home Office?) Christiana is working for him.

General Arbuthnot Aggott. Christiana's father and brother of Arbuthnott Aggott. Something in the War Office (as the MoD

(Army) was known then) to do with Counter Espionage.

Col. Beaumont Walsgrave. Christiana's sorely missed hubby.

Bright Young Things: Ruby Rawlings, Charlotte Ponsonby-Smythe & Katherine Wallasey. Bright Young Things brothers: Everet Rawlings, Eugene Ponsonby-Smythe & Virgil Wallasey. Communists et al ACW

Comrade St. John. Lenin boys Comrade Bunson-Smythe. Lenin boys Bro.?? Muckleby. Leader of 'The Workers Party' also something to do with Arbuthnot Aggott.

Bruder Wilhelm Bergmann. German trades union leader. Bro. Kevin Harvey. A Workers Party member. (Changed from Hardy)

Ernst Graf von Rockenbaker. Sir John Keithly. Lord John Markham.

Sir Martin Wickham. SMS. Bernard Hot Sax Player Musician Errol Holiday. Band leader and piano player Jo-Jo. Fan dancer from Red Parrot Club, sister of Errol.

Cpt Makepeace — hotel guest Barrington nephew of Makepeace knew Jo-Jo in Paris

Lee Rooster Pearmaine detective — drunkard

Balsom Fry valet Cpt Hove-Brighton assistant on trail of missing novelist H.B. STAFF LIST. Awaiting names/descriptions and free to use. Head Waiter. Head Gardener. Head Chef. (Unnamed but has been used) Geordie pretending to be a French Chef, as they get paid more. No good at accents. Head porter/Concierge. 'Dell boy'. He (probably) knows about the smuggling racket. Wine Waiter/Sommelier. Sometimes barman. May be on the take from the 'duty free' wine.

CMH Helpful NOTE 1. If you are going to involve Security Forces (police and military) then please note that there was nothing like the MoD, it was FOUR (4) SEPARATE organisations. Admiralty for the Royal Navy. War Office for the Army. Air Ministry for the RAF. The Home Office for the Police. However, Policing was done by County/Borough. The Home Secretary couldn't give orders to the Chief Constable and the Met. was ―Asked to assist‖ if he thought they were required. I would think that Trentby, being a City or Borough would have its own Police force. Just to make things interesting H.M.Customs was – still is - a part of the Treasury. As civil servants, they did NOT have military rank equivalence or titles nor, except for two of the higher grades, dress uniforms. It gets complicated because there was (in 1923) a few organisational 'hold-overs' from earlier times and some officers did get working uniforms issued. Please check before assigning a service to any you may use.

Odd jobs

Norbert, being the odd job man at the Hotel Bluddschott, was busy odd jobbing. In this instance he was busy mending one of the hotels 'Pleasure Craft', as the multi-coloured, much patched, mis-

matched, and sorry collection of rowing boats was optimistically called. 'What are you doing, Mr., Just Norbert,' asked a voice he would, if she had asked him, gladly have

committed murder for. Norbert attempted to straighten up, so that he could feast his eyes on her, and hit his head on the

boat as he did so. 'Nothing much, Miss...' he had a quick look around, couldn‘t, from under the boat,

see any other feet, and continued. 'Sally, what are you doing here? This isn't a part of the hotel you should be in; the boat shed isn't for guests.'

Sally sat on a handy bench, swinging her legs and showing Norbert a bit more leg than he thought was proper for a nicely brought up young lady, even if he did enjoy the sight. 'Oh, tosh and poodle, Norbert. I'm bored to tears with these brainless girls and their even more, if that's possible, brainless

young men! We fought for this country; well you did and I helped a bit behind the lines, and all they can do is moan about things‘ The tone changed to almost a wail, ‗I need to do something!'.

'Anything in particular you'd like to do, Sally? Lands‘ End to John O'Groats overland rowing boat racing, World record caterpillar wrestling, any little thing like that?'

Sally laughed, 'Done that, my dear Norbert.' Norbert, still struggling to get the plank he'd removed back in place, found his heart racing at the

words, 'my dear Norbert'.

Sally continued, 'Had to give up the boat racing though, I got seasick on Dartmoor, and ran out of caterpillars after the first five minutes. Big brutes they were as well, all hairy.'

Knowing when he was beaten at verbal callisthenics, Norbert gave in. 'I don't know what you can do, Sally. I don't know what you did before you arrived here to brighten my life and show everyone

else up as pretenders. All I know, if you'll excuse me being forward, and I liking what I see, is that you are a very good-looking woman. Tall, hazel eyes, auburn hair, and very capable. I have you down as a WRNS or WRAF officer who has just completed her time and wants to get away from it

all.' The plank went, at last, into place and the screws went home. 'Got you!' Norbert told it as he

pushed himself out into the open and rolled over so that he could see Sally properly. He saw that there were tears glistening in her eyes.

'Sally!' He threw himself across the boat into a heap at her feet. 'What‘s the matter, love?'

'Nothing, Norbert, nothing at all.' There was the hint of a smile amongst the tears, 'You have just managed to put my life into a nutshell, a very small nutshell.'

Wisely; unsure if that was a compliment, or not, he said nothing. Sally continued, 'That's more than most people see. All they see is Sally Grey, a tall, good looking,

woman; oh yes, they see that. The capable ex-officer is ignored, and I'm expected to find some suit-able man to settled down with, be a dutiful wife and produce a gaggle of children. Well I won't!'

Norbert looked at her again. This Sally was the one he'd looked for, ever since he'd been demobi-

lised. For lack of anything better he settled on formality, 'Miss Grey. We have not been formally intro-duced so I'm forced to introduce myself. I am Norbert Bunbury; the family is named after the village

we owned at one time, or maybe vice versa. I believe that the family still own some of it. I am cur-rently employed as the driver and odd job man here.

As the result of a field commission during the war, I rose to be Lieutenant, acting Captain, Bunbury of the Machine Gun Corp. Mainly based in Salonika. I have a few medals but nothing of any signifi-cance. However, all of that is nothing besides the fact, Miss Grey, that I am madly, passionately in

love with you. If you can forgive my presumption in my asking on so short an acquaintanceship, and think that we have any chance of making a go of it, will you marry me. Please!'

As he was already on the floor at her feet he couldn't make the gesture of kneeling, but he could put his head on the floor, which he did.

Nothing happened for a long time, so long that Norbert thought that Sally was going to laugh at

him. He looked up and saw her smiling through her tears, then, slowly, she nodded. 'You know, Norbert, I think that I may well accept you. But not right now, first, we need to get to

know each other better. Ask me again. At Christmas!' (CMH)

Griggles

After their experience with tiffin the waiters and chef were careful not offend Griggles any further. In the evening when Griggles, Mossy and Windy sat down for their evening meal and chose roast beef

and Yorkshire puddings that indeed was what they got. The food was delicious and there was plenty of it. However, other diners were not so lucky. Griggles overheard, ‗I think I have leather sole not Do-

ver Sole‘ and from another table, ‗I say I think these are not potato croquettes but croquet balls.‘ Griggles and company kept quiet and all that could be heard was the occasional comment, ‗Pass the mustard old chap‘ or, ‗Send over the gravy boat Mossy‘. After the main course they ordered apple pie

and custard which to their surprise was excellent. Murmurs came from surrounding tables, ‗This isn‘t custard this is mayonnaise‘, ‗Crème brulé, bah, it is crème carbonisé‘ or ‗I really think this is Eton

Mess‘. However, all conversation stopped when a waiter was preparing crêpes flambé using the 15-year-

old Napoleon brandy, as purchased at great expense by Nigel Bluddschott. The waiter poured out the

brandy and spilt a small amount on his trousers and the tablecloth. He took no notice struck a match and applied it to the crêpes. Whoosh! Orange flames shot towards the ceiling. The waiter screamed

as his nether regions were flambéd. The diners jumped backwards as the tablecloth caught fire and flambéd the table decorations. All would have been well if the waiter had not dropped the open bottle

of, so called, brandy. The bottle shattered spraying its contents far and wide. Even more flames shot everywhere. Diners ran round in circles, waiters ran round with and without trousers on fire. The waitresses wisely left the scene and went for a cup of tea in the basement.

‗Reminds of the time I shot down a Zeppelin,‘ remarked Griggles. Nigel Bluddschott took command, saw the chaos and relinquished command.

‗I suppose we had better do something,‘ said Mossy. ‗After all we are here on a mission.‘ So our intrepid three issued orders. Waiters were given fire extinguishers, trousers were extin-

guished, diners ushered into the coffee lounge and anyone else told to form a bucket chain. Soon or-der was restored. The floor being marble was undamaged, a few tables were charred and the ceiling redecorated in a tasteful shade of smoke grey.

‗Well,‘ said Windy, ‗Not only an excellent meal but a cabaret and floor show as an unexpected ex-tra.‘

‗Yes to quote Shakespeare, all‘s well that ends well,‘ chuckled Griggles. (NP)

Again!

Has the world gone mad, whatever can

we do? To stop the steady rot – is that ex-treme view?

What kind of person does that? The words I cannot find, They say all life is precious, there is no

other kind. But it‘s not just pain and sorrow that

fills my well of grief, Things happening in this world, beg-gars my belief.

You know what I‘m referring to, yes I‘m sure you must.

I‘m not the only one who wants life safe and just.

Daughter Number Two

The outfit has been purchased with matching bag and

shoes Done some exercising, but a few pounds still to lose. The poem has been written, to deliver on the day,

Fingers crossed for sunshine and not November grey! Countdown to daughter‘s wedding, six weeks left to

go, Arrangements all in place, at least, I think that‘s so!

Guests should have their invites, cars ready to transport, To Matt and Mel‘s wedding six-eleven, Gray‘s Court.

Not losing a daughter but gaining son-in-law, Second in my collection and levelling the score!

Like to see them on my doorstep, always welcome here, To eat a Sunday roast and polish off Mike‘s beer!

The outfit has been purchased, a dream I am in blue,

Compliment the bride but don‘t forget me too! We‘ll all look quite amazing, we scrub up really well, Looking forward to the day when Matthew marries

Mel.

LINKS

Submissions Open NOW

WHAT IS RADIO WILDFIRE? Radio Wildfire is an independent online radio station which blends spoken word, poetry, performance literature, com-

edy, storytelling, short stories and more with a novel selection of word/music fusion and an eclectic mix of musical styles. www.radiowildfire.com currently broadcasts live 8.00-10.00pm (UK time) on the first Monday of every month.

A new version of The Loop is now playing on Radio Wildfire with another selection of tracks uploaded to the ‗Submit‘ page of our website and sent to us on cd by writers, artists, musicians and listeners around the world.

Log on and listen to - Spoken word poetry and music from Madison Shadwell; Jason Potter; Heather Wastie ; Duke; Queen Da Poetess; Bryant O‘Hara Songs from Simon Scardanelli; Billy & Lozz

Poetry from Nick Toczek; Sarah James; Sharon Ashton; Paul Lester; Sarah Delroy; Predencia Gabbidon; Ronald Jones Story from James Burr – another great selection of stories, satires, poetry, spoken word, music, drama and interview playing 24/7 @ www.radiowildfire.com

So join us and listen by going to www.radiowildfire.com and clicking on The Loop - and see the full playlist on the website. We‘ll be transmitting our live show as usual at 8:00pm on Monday 5th October and, as usual, will be sending

out the details of the show in advance. You can upload soundfiles of your own work to the 'Submit' page of the Radio Wildfire website. Mp3s are our preferred format. You can also ensure you always get reminders of upcoming shows

on Radio Wildfire by following us on Twitter @radiowildfire. The Loop is curated by Vaughn Reeves and plays online continuously except during our live broadcast on Monday 5th

October 2015 starting at 8.00pm UK time with a full programme of pre-recorded tracks, guest interviews and conver-sation. Listen to Radio Wildfire at www.radiowildfire.com where The Loop plays 24 hours a day. Twitter @radiowildfire

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risingbrookwriters

Time and

Tide

The 2015

Short Story

Collection

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For site link

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PATRON Ian McMillan www.ian-mcmillan.co.uk

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