We All Need Stars To Guide Our Way
We all need stars to guide our way Across the sea of life, To lead us to that sheltered bay Away from hate and strife.
When we first start out in our boat We leave the stars behind. From where we sit they seem remote - Not what we seek to find.
We need to chart our unique course And do the things we want, We never get to feel remorse, So focused on the jaunt.
But over time we get the sense There’s something that we lack. In an ocean so immense, We’re not sure where to tack.
Our little ship now feels so small Out in that deep wide blue But those same stars will guide us all So that our course is true.
So when we look up,at the night For a familiar glow. Our hearts do gladden at the sight And we know where to row.
We all need stars to guide our way Across the sea of life To lead us to that sheltered bay Away from hate and strife
Knit-wit
I cannot seem to get this right, I’ve been up trying half the night. It seems there is no end in sight, I think I’m pulling it too tight!
I tried to learn it from a friend But that just drove her round the bend. The start got mixed up with the end, Her time with me she did suspend!
I saw some lessons on the net I do not feel I’ve got it yet, This is something I regret, I think I’ve tangled up my pet!
I bought a pattern in a store, That wasn’t what I went there for, This is becoming quite a bore, My husband’s running out the door!
I really just feel such a twit All I want to do is knit. I’ll try and focus for a bit, Now this is really looking …. Ok!!
Just Another Day At Work
I’m sat hunched over my desk as I stuff my face between checking personal emails on my phone . This is standard behaviour for me so no one comments as I’m usually back to answering work emails within a few minutes. We’d got a lot on today as we were a bit behind after yesterday when Fiona left the office in floods of tears. She’s back in today but we still don’t know what’s happened and Steve (the boss) won’t let us ask her about it. We’d started the day trying to be cheerful to cheer her up a bit but that got frowned upon - there’s some visitors from the board here today so we’re expected to be on our best behaviour in case they come into our part of the building. So it’s serious faces all round, heads down, focusing on our work. Until lunch. I did a quick look around me before grabbing my lunch bag out of my desk. As there were no directions lurking I felt safe enough to have my usual break. Normally there’s some chit chat as the others on the team decide on what they’re doing, however the miserably wet, grey weather outside is reflecting the mood inside. Cassie, the office joker, has another attempt to lift everyone’s spirits then gets a hissed command to keep it quiet from Steve and a hurt look from Fiona, so she returns to silently flicking through a magazine. I’m continuing my quick email check, deleting the junk, as normal, scanning the news alerts then deleting them, as normal, trying not to be tempted to buy anything so deleting those, as normal….ooh, what’s this? Lucky Lotto? Exciting news about my ticket! Yeah right! Strictly telling myself not to get excited, like all the times before, it’s only going to be enough to cover one ticket, like it always is. I tell myself to ignore it, pack my lunch things away and get back to work. It’s eerily quiet, they’d even turned off the radio because of the VIPs. Fiona looks like she’s going to burst into tears any time anyone says anything. Steve keeps looking up from his pc to glare. The sensible voice in my head, telling me to just get through the day, is being drowned out now by the nagging thought that this might actually finally be the exciting result I keep hoping for. I cave into my own nagging but tell myself it’s on condition I keep absolutely quiet no matter what. It might be a bit of a rough day but they’re typically a nice bunch to work with. Steve’s just under a lot of pressure at the moment from Head Office about efficiency & conforming to company imposed methods of working and Fiona is often the first one to comfort anyone who’s upset. I grab my phone back out, holding it just under the desk I log onto my Lucky Lotto account, still taking quick glances around, I feel myself holding my breath and my pulse quickens. The double doors to the office are opening but I can’t tear my gaze away from my phone. I can see my eyes reflecting back from the screen as they grow wide and start to gleam. I start to feel faint as I’ve been holding my breath for so long. As though from miles away I am aware of Steve introducing some of the team to the directors. Still holding my breath and with eyes wide, I pull myself so I’m sat properly at my desk, my phone still on my lap but now completely hidden. I’m almost trembling now and want to grin from ear to ear but they’re approaching my area now. I move my mouse and try to concentrate on the work in front of me. As Steve points me out as an example of the hard work and dedication the board are after, I tear my eyes away from the space an inch from the screen and look round, a strange fixed grin on my face. Steve continues on the tour mentioning that it’s an exceptionally busy day today and one of the directors commenting back that it’s clear on our faces how keen we are to get on with it so they won’t disturb us any longer. As they head out of the doors, I start to let out the air I feel I’ve been holding for years. Still trembling I turn back to the monitor. Steve comes over to me “it’s okay”, as he gives me a reassuring smile, “ I was nervous the first time I met someone as important as a director.”
Do Not Leave The Toaster Unattended
I emerged from the small office kitchen, life giving caffeine in hand, and into the main office. It was like a shed full of battery hens, all of us in our little cages, pecking away ar our computers. Cage after cage the same…ok not quite, Sally (two back, three over) had her cubicle filled with plastic toys with zany hairstyles, Cristal (three in front, two over) had numerous photos of her expanding family, Pete (two along from me) had his dubious calendar (I thought they went out in the seventies?) unless Brenda from HR was on the rounds (Clucking around like a mother hen) in which case the calendar was mysteriously replaced with the company standard one. And so i sit at my desk and resume pecking away, virtually shuffling paper. On to the next request to process I suppose. Hum “20 hi-vis vests, yellow, Fire Marshal in red letters on back” “Fire Marshal, do they guide the people away from the fire or the fire away from the people. Why did the fire start in the first place?.. For such a large animal, at first the dragon made no sound as it slunk up the stairs and through the double doors to the office. The padding of it’s leathery feet could not be heard above the clattering on keyboards and the chattering on phones. Suddenly the screaming began as one person after another glanced up and their eyes went from dull & lifeless to scared for their lives in a matter of seconds. Initially frozen in panic, the office clerks moved with a speed they would never achieve again as they scrambled out of the way of the flames. Sally stifled a sob as her cubicle was reduced to ash and her precious collection nothing more than a mound of melted plastic with odd tufts of brightly coloured nylon. Pete was grabbing small pieces from his calendar as fragments floated across the room. Why hadn’t the sprinklers been set off? Surely heat of that magnitude would set off the alarms. Ah, there they were now… What? The screeching of the alarm filtered through. The vision dissipated and the office was back to humdrum normality . The alarm was still going but everyone seemed to be ignoring it. Oh it’s nine am on Monday. Time for the weekly alarm test. What? Only nine? How many minutes until Friday at four? Meanwhile the never ending stream of requests to process… “20 sections of 2 metre copper pipe”…
A Way From It All
“The hotel? Well I knew it was old, it had been a big stately home at some stage. I’m sure it was the “big house” of one of the “rich folk” in one of those costume dramas in the eighties” The phone signal was terrible so I only got the gist of my friend’s response. I guessed it was about the tv show, she’d really been into them back when we were at school. “Oh I don’t know which one but it must have been a good few years ago as this place is nothing like the glamorous mansion with the magnificent chandeliers and the huge ballroom. I think it’s feeling it’s age..” .. “Sorry I didn’t catch that bit, I thought I heard crying,no, it can’t have been a baby, at least it shouldn’t be. It’s an adult only hotel, you know the type, “get away from it all”, so no kids allowed.” .. “Nope, no better, I’ll move around the room a bit. Wow that crying is getting louder, actually it sounds more like sobbing, must be from the room next door” Meanwhile my friend must have been looking up the hotel on the internet as when I could here what she was saying it was about the original occupants of the house. “Well I guess we must be in one of the servants rooms judging from the size of it. If you look at the picture of the front of the hotel, we’re on the top floor, one of those attic rooms” This set her off on a rant about husbands who don’t like spending money on their wives - it was a frequent topic of our conversations - although I was only half paying attention as the sobbing had become almost a wail and was really getting on my nerves. Wow they certainly skimped on insulation in these rooms if the walls were that thin. “Michael? Ah, yes, the “it’ll do us good to get away from it all”? The “it doesn’t matter that the wifi isn’t reliable, we’ll get out and about and enjoy the countryside”? Well I may be able to survive without the internet for a weekend but he just had to get in a round of golf” By this time I was pressed up close to the small window trying to get a better signal. Looking down, past the peeling paint on the window frame, I had a glimpse of the garden with its ornate hedges looking sinister as the mist swirled across the lawn. I shivered and moved over to stand near the small radiator. The sobbing was much louder there and I was starting to feel a bit guilty, maybe I should knock on the door and see if she’s alright? Actually it seemed more like the sound was coming from the compact en-suite rather than the next room. My friend had finished complaining about her other half and was back to reading out bits from the hotel website. Apparently it was supposed to be haunted. I suppressed a snort of laughter as I knew my friend believed in all thing supernatural. Back in day, when the house really was the grand place the tv programme had tried to recreate, there were loads of servants. A full compliment of housemaids, chambermaids, scullery maids, footmen, valets…all the way up to a housekeeper and a butler. Of course there was a story of a young, innocent chambermaid and the Duke’s son, the heir to the estate. You’re sure to read of types like him in any typical period romance, all brooding passion and declarations of love. I’m certain you can guess the rest, she ends up in trouble and he goes off and marries some rich heiress. And the poor maid is never heard of again. Unless you count the rumours of the ghost. Which I didn’t, at least until I opened the door to the en-suite. “Ah…….. I’ll call you back” as I stared at the young girl sat on the edge of the bath in what to me looked like a maids outfit - full length blue skirt, long white apron, blue elbow length linen top with white collar and cuffs and why is this what’s going through my mind at the moment? I’m not back in history class. The girl didn’t seem to have noticed me yet, she was still sobbing into a handkerchief that looked like it had once been white but now was soaked through with tears. “Mary?” I said hesitantly, as that was the name of the girl in the story. I wasn’t sure if she could even hear me over the crying so was surprised when she quickly brought her head up and glared at me. Her face was all blotchy and red, particularly round her eyes, yet she managed to make me feel that I was the one in the wrong. “Do I look like a Mary?” She snapped. “Or have you got an accomplice just around the corner with their camera poised to take some snaps for the front page?” “Er..sorry?” I tried then realised that with her tone of voice not only had I obviously let my friend’s story get to me but some complete stranger was in our room! “What exactly are you doing in here then?!” We both said at once. She swiftly followed up with “You don’t recognise me do you?” And sounded quite indignant, maybe with a touch of resignation. “Er…sorry…no?” I gave a small shake of my head and tried to look a bit ashamed then pulled myself together adding “why are you in our bathroom?” “Ooh” and this time she was the one looking abashed, “ I hadn’t realised that they were letting anyone stay up here. I just wanted somewhere to hide away from the paparazzi, you know how it is, one hint of scandal and they’re instantly on the scene, hounding everyone for a quote or pointing their telephoto lenses where they don’t belong “ By now I must have been looking really puzzled as she gradually went from sounding like a giddy starlet gossiping away to someone rather lost. “The press?” She tried again slightly tilting her head in question. “Um… it’s really quiet here, I’ve hardly seen anyone “ I ventured. “Oh don’t be silly,” she replied, “ all the crew are downstairs setting up for the main scene in the ballroom.” “Film crew? I haven’t seen a film crew.” “Are you blind or just incredibly unobservant?! The car park is full of trailers, there’s cables and lightning rigs everywhere, the constant noise of the generators.” She was almost yelling now but at the same time was looking increasingly concerned. She rushed past me to the window, well not quite past me, the doorway wasn’t big enough, yet somehow she was there at the window looking eagerly out. When she turned back to look at me it seemed all the energy had drained from her. Her face was no longer blotchy with tears, it seemed almost grey. “Every once in a while I forget,” her voice was forlorn, “I forget my fate. I’m that young hopeful once more, her first big break, her dream of being a star so close.” She was gazing upwards now, so fervently I could imagine the spotlights & the cameras. “I was so foolish, I should have known he wouldn’t take me seriously. He was famous, he’d made his name, he’d been the lead in so many films, always the brooding love interest. And how all the girls swooned when he glanced in their direction, an imitation of the ladies in all those films” I sensed her looking back, back to another time, back to her time. “Oh I was so delighted that he noticed me. I would have done anything for him. And of course I did.” She looked back at me now, a sad smile upon her face. And somehow she seemed slightly paler, almost as though the light from the window was shining through her. “I thought all my dreams had come true but then she” that last word was hissed out, “she suddenly announced that she’d split from her producer boyfriend she’d met in her last film, and then I may as well have not existed. All he wanted was to be with her. I was now just an inconvenience. He just wanted me to fade away” Which is what she gradually appeared to be doing now. I started to feel chilled again and gave an involuntary shiver. “Wait!” I cried as she faded away, “I never got to know your name”. There was a faint whisper, not loud enough to make out, then nothing more. I sat down on the bed, feeling rather bewildered. I shook my head, I must have been dreaming I told myself. I got up to splash some water on my face but didn’t really feel like going into the en-suite again. Instead I reached for my coat deciding some fresh air would be better. Then just as I was closing the door behind me, I heard it, the sound of someone sobbing.
A Leap Of Faith
We’d been hunted all our lives. It was the fate of our kind to be considered freaks useful only for sport or clandestine entertainment. Most “normal “ people shunned us so we never settled long in any place. If it wasn’t for the occasional sympathetic individual we would have been wiped out long ago. Just for being different. My sister, Efra, & I come from a long line of survivors. Each generation having to find better ways to evade capture and each new child being taught from an early age the vital importance of hiding their powers, for that was what made us different. Some could communicate with animals, others could read thoughts, while others could move objects using only their minds. For some of our people these powers were weak, almost nonexistent, but the number of these reduced over the years as they often left the group, finding it easier to make a life with the “normals”. Others found their power limited, only able to use it for a short time without becoming exhausted. Our parents had been distinct in that they were able to do much more, for a much longer time. Those that read thoughts could only read the surface level thoughts of others, those at the forefront of their minds. Our mother was capable of reading the deeper thoughts, the distant memories long forgotten. Our father moved larger, heavier objects and did so for longer without tiring. When Efra & I reached the age where we understood what was happening we surpassed them both. And, unusual for our race, we had both of our parents’ powers. As we grew up, we got stronger and with support and training from the others we went from strength to strength. This was not something to be celebrated though, these powers were a curse and once word got out that some of us were stronger still, more hunters came. With each passing day the number of attempts to catch us increased and the number of our people killed defending us also increased. Until our parents decided that, for the good of those that remained, our family needed to leave the group and go further into the wilderness in the hopes that we would find it easier to hide. A month ago hunters killed our mother. She’d got to close to a gang when trying to listen in on their thoughts, we couldn’t even risk getting her body. Our father was devastated. He took greater and greater risks, in the end he used all his strength to push down the wall of a stone house we’d been sheltering in, on top of the hunting party that had tracked us since killing our mother. We threw everything we had at them but as they grabbed him he begged us to flee. And now we come to today. We managed to evade capture for a few more weeks but found ourselves further and further out into the wilds. We are now lost and starving. The hunters get closer and we’re putting all our energy into running. My sister looks ahead and flings me a look of despair. “It looks like we’ve reached the end of the world” she gasps. “It’s just a cliff, we can scramble down it” I try to assure her but she doesn’t need to read my thoughts to see my desperation. We reach the edge. It’s a sheer drop down seemingly thousands of feet. There’s no obvious handholds. We can now here the shouts of the hunters behind us. They’re getting excited as they can see their prey and forget to be silent. A mad idea comes into my head. “We can float” I murmur. “Sorry?!” She looks at me quizzically. The idea takes hold. “Yes! That’s it, that’s what we’ll do. We can lift each other at the same time and cushion our fall” “You’re quite mad you know” she retorts but I see the corners of her mouth twitch into a smile I don’t remember seeing for months. “Do you trust me?” I say looking deep into her eyes. The hunters are nearly upon us. I grab my sister’s hand and pull her towards the cliff edge with me. She nods slowly in my direction. Then we jump.
Reflections On A Window (just For Fun)
The window Will not close, I feel cold Down to my toes.
The window Must be stuck. How I’ve tried But still no luck.
The window Still ajar. Now I feel Quite below par.
The window Will not move Just like me Stuck in a groove
The window Will not shut. Is my work Fixed in a rut?
The window, Open wide. Do I try From the outside?
The window From this view I can hear A plaintiff mew
The window Let me see A new friend Who does need me.
The window Left that way As my friend Has come to stay.
(It may rain, Even snow, But my friend Can come and go!)
(It now seems All I need Is a friend A friend to feed)
P.S. sometimes I need a nudge to get me out of the door to go to work. I just look at the cat and remind myself, if nothing else, I need to earn money for cat food!
Where Is Rabbit?
Where is rabbit? I can’t find rabbit ! He’s not anywhere in my bed I’ve lifted up all the covers and he’s not hiding there Where is rabbit ? I can’t find rabbit! He isn’t in the bathroom And I did go there to brush my teeth. Honest. Where is rabbit? I can’t find rabbit! He isn’t in the lounge And it’s too late to watch my cartoons now. Mummy says so. Where is rabbit? I can’t find rabbit! He isn’t in the garden I hope he isn’t in the garden. Daddy says it’s bedtime so I can’t go out and look. Where is rabbit? I can’t find rabbit! He isn’t in with Granny Granny looked everywhere in her room really well. She promised. Where is rabbit? I can’t find rabbit! He isn’t anywhere! And Mummy says I have to go to sleep now. Where is rabbit? I can’t find rabbit! He isn’t in my bedroom Daddy has looked in my room too but says we’ll look tomorrow. Promise. Where is rabbit? I can’t find rabbit! He cannot sleep without me He gets scared in the dark without me Where is rabbit? I can’t find rabbit! Mummy says it’s past time that little girls should be asleep Mummy says I must take off my dressing gown Where is rabbit? I can’t find rabbit! What’s this in my pocket? Here is rabbit! I can’t find teddy!
Fine whining
“ I need to confess something…I did it. Now, can you pass me the wine?” The conversations round the table suddenly silenced for a moment then Frank threw back his head roaring with laughter. “You almost had me for a second”, he wheezes, tears streaming down his face. The rest of the dinings joined in with the laughter apart from Susanne who gave me the weirdest quizzical look. For my part. I felt the discussion had been the main focus of the evening for far too long and I was getting sick of it. To be fair I was getting sick of the whole routine. Dinner parties had never been my scene but suddenly it seemed we were either going to one or hosting one every weekend. “I really meant it”, I retorted, “I’m getting very thirsty” as I waggled my empty wine glass in the air. And yes I know booze is never the answer but if it meant I survived another evening of Frank’s sexist jokes and Matthew’s lengthy lectures on the choice of wine for the night, which of course he could get for a better price or from a better vineyard. It seemed a good way to get to know our new neighbours as we’d just moved to the village, six months in it felt more like being trapped in a recurring nightmare. “Suzy be a darling and pass that bottle of red down this end before Carol dies of thirst” Frank called down the table, chortling to himself. Susanne shot him an evil look, she hated being called Suzy, but picked up the bottle of red and headed in our direction. “Shame Michael couldn’t make it”, she commented as she filled my glass. “Missing your little helper in the kitchen then sweetheart?” Her husband, Alex, quipped from the other end of the table. Ah yes my dear husband Michael was always the one who offered to help in the kitchen with Susanne. “All on your own tonight, we can’t have that can we Carol?” Frank leered at me. “I’ll be fine”, I quickly replied, “he’s supposed to be back later tonight”. “Oh good” responded Susanne, “we can get his opinion on those guitars”. And with a smirk at me she plonked the bottle down in front of me and wandered back to her seat. “What guitars?” Matthew asked, eliciting a groan from the rest of the table. “Oh Michael haven’t you been listening at all?” Spluttered Alex, spilling red wine on the previously pristine white table cloth and getting a daggers look from his wife. “The ones they’ve been on about in the village whatsapp group”, he continued, “every teenager in our street woke up the other morning to find someone had left each of them a rather nice guitar. I thought that’s what Carol was confessing to”. At this point I took a big gulp of wine and was about to reply. “Oh thank goodness “, gushed Pete, Matthew’s partner, who was rarely able to get a word in, “I thought she was confessing to dumping that car” Now it was his turn for everyone to look at him with confusion. Sensing he was the focus of attention he hesitated for a moment, too long a moment as Matthew jumped in with “oh gosh yes, that eye sore halfway down Winslow Hill. Some yobs left a burnt out car there. Of course the police have done nothing about it, I have the suspicion they just ignore my calls now as no one ever gets back to me.” He would have carried on for the next hour or so, complaining about local services or rather lack of them was another topic not to get him started on. I took a couple more swigs of wine as I doubted I’d be able to say anything for a while. Fortunately Alex butted in “oh I saw them there the other day, they’d got someone out on some sort of climbing harness to scale down, it’s quite steep down that bit you know. Anyway they can’t have found anything interesting as they all packed up when it started raining.” At this point I reached for the bottle and refilled my glass. “So no bodies then?”, Frank seemed almost gloomy at the news. “Apparently not” Alex stated with the air of one who is always in the know. I was beginning to feel a bit light headed , this wine must have been strong as I’d arrived late and this was only my third glass. “You know”, I said carefully standing up, “I think I’ll go home and see if Michael’s back yet” And when I got there, much to my surprise and confusion, there he was…..