How doth the little dragon fly…

17 06 2015

How doth the little dragon fly
A-sparkle in the sun
And dance and shinmer in the sky
It looks like smashing fun!
And sometimes when he flies too low
The people stop and stare
To see him hover oh so slow
And get stuck in my hair!

If Lewis Carroll hadn’t thought of a crocodile first, he might have written something like this instead…


Drama at Selby station…

15 06 2015

Sat at Selby Station,
Waiting for a train,
I see a little beetley-thing
Emerging from a drain.

It runs across the platform
On legs wildly erratic
And hurls itself right off the edge –
Disturbingly dramatic.

Leaving Selby station
I ponder on its fate:
Unlike the train to Staleybridge*
The beetley-thing is late.

*Except I was travelling to York.  Staleybridge sounded better though.

S’raining. S’wet.

2 10 2013

This started as a one-verse tweet, then grew to three verses, and has finally ended up with six – it felt like it needed to end on a river/sea-ish theme, sort of like how it started…

It’s raining…

Today I’ve got me brolly
It’s wet as wet can be
The road’s become a river
And the carpark is the sea.

I can’t avoid that puddle
And I step right in it, ‘splot!’
It’s deeper than I thought
And water soaks right through my sock.

Damp-footed I trudge onwards
As the rain pours off my coat
I’ve only walked for fifty yards
And I’m completely soaked.

The train is damp and fuggy
As the passengers all drip;
And arriving at the station
We’re all cautioned not to slip.

I pass a herd of brollies
All stampeding for a train
And cower beneath the canopies
To keep out of the rain.

I ponder on the weather
As the train creaks into motion
And wonder if my little town
Will soon become an ocean.

Rose’s Glastonbury Diary: Pre-departure

26 06 2013

Today’s the day!

Whaddya mean, “What day?”! It’s going to Glasonbury Festival day of course, hurrah!

Everything’s checked off on The Big List, my rucksack’s packed, the Bag of Miscellaneous Stuff is pretty much packed, and I just have to wait for my other half to pack his rucksack, now that he’s finished work at last.

Oh, and I’ve done the obligatory last minute panic-shop and stashed a load of emergency Nakd bars (yum!) and generally healthy nibbles in my bag in case of late night/early morning munchies. And Pringles… There has to be Pringles…

We usually head off around midnight and arrive at dawn Thursday morning – might have to walk a bit further to find a space for our tent, but we’ve never had to queue at that time thank goodness; just hope there’s still a spec left to squeeze our tent into this time… Watching the fields fill up on the webcam is slightly worrying!

The only slight spanner in the works at the moment is my knee… You might know that I have Palendromic Arthritis (if you’re thinking “What’s that?” read this post…). I haven’t had a really bad flare-up for a few weeks, but last night I became aware of a slight twinge in my knee as I came downstairs. I thought “Oh-oh – that feels a bit like… no, it can’t be, not at Glasto time!” Three hours later I was a little ball of pain in bed (cue tiny violins), wanting to cry and break things, because a) it wasn’t fair – we’re going to Glasto dammit, I need my knee! and b) if it’s still dodgy when we get there it’s really going to ruin things for my other half.

This morning it feels less painful, and I’ve managed to negotiate the stairs, albeit slowly and limpily. So finger’s crossed this is one of those quick flares that’ll be gone by dawn tomorrow – and also that it isn’t the start of a week of wandering flare-ups. There’ll be serious trouble if it dares to pop up in my cider-drinking arm!

That’s all for now – I’ll just leave you with a tiny rhyme…

I have a little palindrome,
It’s flared up in my knee;
But NOTHING’S going to stop me
From enjoying Glastonbree!

Right, off to pimp up my walking stick…

Violet and the fastest toboggan in the west…

19 03 2013

Well. I wasn’t expecting that.

You know how things just, sort of, run away with themselves sometimes?

I decided to do another Crazy Rhymey Challenge on the way to work this morning, and it got totally out of control!

These were the words Twitter provided today…

@yorkshire_chris – existential, banana, knickers, blackberry

@hedzie – catapult, slimey, picnic, edge, pilot

@bostonkas – startle, blabber, luge (there’s always one I have to look up!)

@shaggydogyarns – syringe

@rachel__elliott was stuck for words today due to all the snow up her way, so I threw a bit of that in too.

I might have tweaked one or two of the words a teensy weensy bit, but it says in The Rules that I’m allowed to do that, so there!

And here is the journey this weird collection of words took me on…

Violet and the fastest toboggan in the west…

Violet went a-wandering
Out in the snow one day,
Looking for a mighty slope
Upon which she could play.

She wore her lucky knickers
And she carried her new luge,
She also had a picnic
In a basket that was huge.

Up she climbed, and up some more
Until she reached a ledge,
Then laying on her luge
She pushed herself right off the edge.

Down below ’twas market day
And gentle Mr Shearer
Was setting up his stall of fruit
As Violet zoomed in nearer.

Mr Benn the fishmonger
Had opened up his trailer,
And next to him was Mr Tweed
The county’s finest tailor.

Over to the tailor’s stall
Strolled good old Doctor Snedding,
To pick up a new suit and hat
He’d had made for his wedding.

The market place was bustling
And the folk were all a-chatter,
When suddenly a sonic boom
Across the square did clatter.

Mr Shearer stood back up
To straighten his bananas,
And Doctor Snedding said “My dears,
Let’s not let this alarm us!”

Mr Benn got to his feet
And shouted out “Cor blimey!
My trailer is in pieces
And my fish have gone all slimey!”

Meanwhile Mr Tweed looked pale
His stall was all a-tatter,
Something had dropped through the roof
And made an awful splatter.

Doctor Snedding’s suit was trashed –
He almost blew a gasket,
Then looking down he said “Hang on,
I recognise that basket!”

Then Violet zoomed back into sight
And folk began to blabber,
She catapulted overhead
And they all tried to grab ‘er.

Mr Shearer caught her foot
And spinning round and round,
He managed to hang on to her
Until she hit the ground.

“I thought so!” Doctor Snedding cried,
“I recognise that pilot!
It is my lovely fiancé,
My own delightful Violet!”

Violet wobbled dizzily
Her eyes were all a-sparkle,
“Oh my!” she said, “Oh silly me!
I didn’t mean to startle!”

Her eyes fell on the tailor’s stall
And saw upon the floor
A suit and hat she recognised
All covered in red gore.

Her eyes rolled up into her head
She paled beneath her fringe
Then from the crowd a voice yelled out
“Quick! Pass me my syringe!”

A deft injection did the trick
And Violet looked around,
She gaped in wonder from the Doc
To red splat on the ground.

“Pish posh, my dear!” the Doctor said,
“It’s really nothing drastic,
‘Tis only all the blackberries
From in your picnic basket!”

And so they hugged and all did cheer,
Some got quite sentimental,
And all agreed their morning
Had been rather existential.

French dog poo…

14 02 2013

Bonjour tout le monde!

Just a quick one – I popped a wee limerick for the other half today whilst on the train to Paris, supping champagne and noshing chocolate (hurrah!)…

There once was a young man called Jon,
Who’s Valentine’s Day went all wrong.
He ruined his shoe,
When he trod in some poo,
And his girlfriend said “Mmmm, Ça sent bon!”

À bientôt!

Missing mousey bits and unexpected hugs…

21 01 2013

A couple of days ago when I blogged the non-rhymey version of my rhymey story, I missed a bit out.

I forgot the mouse! How could I have forgotten the mouse, especially as towards the end of the post I included a rhymey bit about the mouse!

So here goes with the mousey-bit. It comes after the cat and before the spider…


The cat jumps back over the garden fence, and I notice a tiny face peer out from behind a plant pot. It’s a little brown mouse, and after checking the coast is clear, he scurries out and sits on the path cleaning his whiskers. I decide to ask him.

The mouse hops onto the guitar and twitches his nose at the strings. He bites one experimentally. Then he turns to me and squeaks, “No, I can’t play guitar – my tiny paws are way too small.” And he dashes off in search of a beetle for tea.


Well I wasn’t sure how I was going to end this post, but something really sweet just happened on the train! A little boy with what I think was Down Syndrome had been chatting non-stop with his dad since I’d got on. His dad obviously understood every word he was saying, and I found myself listening in, but could only pick out a word or two of what he was saying. Suddenly he appeared by my side, pointed at my bright orange rucksack, and proceeded to talk about it to me. I showed him the zips and pockets, and my train keys. He was very impressed, and showed his dad. Then as we pulled into his station, he reached over, gave me a massive hug, a kiss on each cheek, and one on the nose.

Totally unexpected and utterly wonderful!

‘Bye for now!