Sublime word store #Thesaurusday

tonight at the #dverse poets pub we have been challenge with a 144 word prose which is to include a Wordsworth line. “And bring no book,for this one day we’ll give to idleness.”

Here i reflect upon life — Idle reflections

Idle day afloat!

I awoke to the plop of an invitation landing on my head. It read “To the boat we go and bring no book, for this day we’ll give to idleness.” I had dreamt of this day and did not want to go. For I have the ability of prediction.

This was my first prediction and the only one about myself. All of those which followed had come to be. I had absolutely no choice but to attend the Idle boat for it was my work place. Where I sold my books of prediction for a pretty penny.

I had sold my last book yesterday wondering why I had not dreamt in such a long time. Now I knew. For today was the last of my childhood and tomorrow I would marry the owner of Prophecy the 70ft canal barge. An illiterate I shall become.

Foreshadow #poems

hello #dversepoets her is one of my older poems from 2017.

thought you may like.

https://dversepoets.com/

Here we sit writers in the darkest hour,

Hiding from our devil procrastination,

The foreshadow our abode,

Imagination our food for life,

Hunting out our love of weird,

Once and forever the hunters of wonderful words,

Showing readers our very hearts and souls,

For the peanuts of affection from you dear reader,

Sitting in the darkness, always looking,

For the spark of the next story,

Giving it our paranoia mixed with our care,

But my pen has gone wandering,

Before I wrote of the galaxies, seen by this mind,

I wanted to tell you about.

Stolen key #poetry

#hobgoblinpoet, #poems

I have a key, a pilfered key,

Taken from the pocket,

The pocket of a hobgoblin,

I paid good gold pieces,

To have it lifted,

From the hobgoblin poet’s pocket.

It fits the doors of all pillar boxes,

Those pillar boxes hu-man’s use,

For little envelopes of paper,

Fairy port-holes also live within,

Only perceived by key holders.

Step in if you dare,

No one knows where,

The port-hole will take you,

To the realm of your dreams,

Or the realm of memory,

Places, times and fantasies.

This is not my key,

So, it takes me to,

The places, times and fantasies,

Of the hobgoblin poet,

spiritually linked they are.

So, if I step into a pillar box port-hole,

Can I create a nightmare or two?

For the hobgoblin poet?

Filling his head with sweetness and light,

Removing his mischief, strife and tomfoolery.

But when I do step in,

I walk out into a troubled mind,

Away from the ones I love and need,

Consumed by the demons,

I have carried within.

Us Hu-mans have to many,

Pillar box port-hole are not for,

You and not for me,

Only those with enough love,

For our world,

Can use them,

without losing our inner calm.