|Three lusty witches, one randy tomcat and a spell that unleashed potent sexual desires.|
The Briefest SummerSleep well sweet lissome Summer Maid,The Briefest Summer by shelleypalmer
who danced across the rooftops grey,
now resting in some hidden glade,
to dream the Autumn nights away.
The light she spread has mellowed now,
the gilt, the glister, turned to brown,
she is subdued in seasons flow,
muted ‘neath the Autumn gown.
The cups of wine, the songs she sang,
the radiance in hearts of gold,
the playfulness, the joy that rang
remembered by the young and old.
With skies of pink she rouged the land.
In distant hills her dreams now grow,
where sunsets touched by Autumn’s hand
are deepened by an amber glow.
And in the dreams, where children play,
they see her sleep, her time has passed.
She left them with the briefest kiss
as eaves of Autumn’s shadow cast.
Grumpy Old ManMy left shoulder had been feeling a little heavy and sore of late and I put it down to nothing more than perhaps a strain of some sort – but when I looked at myself in a full length mirror one morning I got a nasty shock. Sitting quite pertly and nonchalantly with skinny legs dangling from my clavicle into the Great Beyond where my belly button resided was a small, perfectly formed old man. Quite a grumpy looking one, it has to be said. I was unsure whether his sour expression was due to being discovered or whether he had been involved in residential disputes. One of his feet actually obscured my belly button, with its big toe venturing into the large crop of masculine hair, hitherto a scenic profusion that declared the testosterone of the main landowner. It was BB’s kingdom though. Yes BB must have been quite put out not to be numero uno of the middle torso.Grumpy Old Man by shelleypalmer
Anyway, regardless of any bickering and downright hostility that may or may not have caused
Beyond TearsSometimes grief is beyond tears.Beyond Tears by shelleypalmer
Words drifted about the place where Lily was being buried but they either fell into the soft earth or faded into insignificance in the glimmer of the pale afternoon sun. They failed to reach Jean despite the sadness they evoked, unlike any deaths she had experienced before. She wondered why this was so.
Deaths of friends were not uncommon to someone of Jean’s age – she was eighty-two. She had attended all the funerals, listened to litanies of praise and poignant eulogies stretching from past to present and beyond – way into a future she would never reach – she had dutifully thumbed hymn sheets and given hoarse renditions of the hymns, that conveyed her pent up emotion. She had cried copious tears. She had followed the five stages of grief to the letter – almost bound by ‘rules’ that were given in books as guidelines to help the bereaved. Yet, inwardly she now acknowledged there were no ‘rules’.
Waiting for a friendI sought not treasures in a chestWaiting for a friend by shelleypalmer
or fortune gained from some behest.
My parents said life was a test,
when I asked them for a friend.
I played with stacks of toys so high
they reached a rainbow in the sky.
More toys came – I wondered why.
All I wanted was a friend.
I ate the sweets and candy bars.
I watched the moon and touched the stars.
I flew to Jupiter and Mars,
searching for a friend.
I could not learn from dusty books,
gained adults disapproving looks.
I hid in secret garden nooks
and hoped to find a friend.
A little cat it came to stay
God must have heard my prayer that day.
My parents said it ran away.
I still waited for a friend.
My parents wanted to protect.
My thoughts, my every action checked
They home schooled me – my life was wrecked,
It felt near to the end.
But then one day at age of ten
adopted from a home came Ken.
My parents smiled and they said then
“It’s time you had a friend.”
The Promise of Autumnfor leaves that glow like the bright pumpkin moonThe Promise of Autumn by C1nderellaMan
for cool winds that blow like ice cream in june
for frosty lawn mornings and billowy breath
for sun painted pathways and soft downy vests
for trickers and treaters and candy corn sweets
for cider-mill sundays and mini-van seats
for baked apple ovens and sticky kid smiles
for woolly bear sweaters in holiday styles
as summertime memories dawdle and drift
autumn arrives like a marvelous gift
Secret SorrowThere are two sides to me butSecret Sorrow by Supach
do you see me frown? No, just
me laughing and joking and being a clown.
There are two sides to me
but I only show one
then cry myself to sleep
when the day is done.
This is the side that no one hears,
the Unhappy me now for years and years.
It´s wearing me down eroding my soul
I´m full on the outside but inside I am hole.
I don´t dwell on the past but it´s all that I have
hidden from everyone who see´s me laugh.
Don`t think that I´m over it and it´s all said and done,
there are two sides to me but you only see one.
Written by Suzanne Karbach
17th september 2016
A divorcee living with my son in North London. Loving humour and magic. In the past I wrote a column in Haunted Digital Magazine, and have written two children's books.
My dream is for a book or books to appear on bookshelves. All of those published so far are print-on-demand. This is because I have no patience to await agents' or publishers' replies - been that route and anyhow probably no chance because I haven't (a) murdered anyone (yet, though I have a few in mind!) or (b) have celebrity status or (c) smuggled drugs inadvertently and then been imprisoned in some Thailand jail for the past 20 odd years.
One of the books which illlustrates perfectly my naughty schoolboy/schoolgirl type of humour is: Mad Magda's Naughty Adult Fairy Tales - this is not erotica, though I think the books may have sold better if they had've been! No not my style, just very rude and full of innuendo.
A Journey in the Mind of the Goblin from Zo - my magical children's book