Yes, Bateman street does exist. I can vouch for that. But what about Batman street? It exists until someone gets rid of that red paint!
I haven’t been there for a while so it could still be Batman street!
Before I go, I have a new release coming out soon which is currently on pre-order. A poetry collection, Lockdown Innit, Poems About Absurdity. Release date scheduled for 26th February!!!
It is available to pre-order:
Preorder Buying Links Lockdown Innit Releases February 26th
Lockdown Innit is a poetry collection of eighteen poems about life’s absurdities and frustrations during lockdown. Wherever you live in this world, this is for you. Expect humour, a dollop of banter and ridiculous rants here and there. Amongst other delights, witness the strange antics of a swan posing by a bin and two statuesque horses appearing like arc deco pieces in a field. Check out the violin player on a tightrope, or the cheeky unmentionables wafting in the lockdown breeze!
I’m pleased to announce that I have a new book coming out February 26th. It is a collection of poems currently available to pre-order via Amazon.
BLURB
Lockdown Innit is a poetry collection of eighteen poems about life’s absurdities and frustrations during lockdown. Wherever you live in this world, this is for you. Expect humour, a dollop of banter and ridiculous rants here and there. Amongst other delights, witness the strange antics of a swan posing by a bin and two statuesque horses appearing like arc deco pieces in a field. Check out the violin player on a tightrope, or the cheeky unmentionables wafting in the lockdown breeze!
Preorder Buying Links Lockdown Innit Releases February 26th
Congratulations to Colleen who has now moved into her new home in Michigan. I wish her much happiness, and many happy writing and reading days there.
NEWS – My poem this week is one to be included in a new poetry and photography book I am currently working on called Lockdown Innit, a light-hearted collection highlighting the absurdity of this time. I am also working on another poetry book called Do What You Love! It is a race to see which I will finish first…
So, about this Lockdown Innit, or a particular a swan who I saw during the first lockdown.
Here’s my media kit for the anthology and compilation about Lockdown featuring so many wonderful authors and bloggers (who I urge you to read!) This Is Lockdown has also received 5 star reviews.
I’m deep in complicated edits for the second in my YA fantasy series – The Curse of Time #2 Golden Healer, and they are driving me crazy! As it’s Poet’s Choice I’m going to share the opening poem and a short extract, (which still needs a final edit so please bear that in mind.)
The story opens with two dear old friends, Leanne the owner of the magical crystal cottage and Eruterac, the creature, who is the caretaker of the cottage. The below link is to Carolina Russo’s wonderful blog.
Carolina has created two amazing art portraits of my characters which you can see below – Esme the mirror girl and Eruterac the creature at: https://yesterdayafter.com/
Through a gated door leading to a herb and rose garden where two strange companions Leanne, and Eruterac the creatureshare a rare moment together.
Today,theymarvelled at the beauty and fragility of the rose petals which created a dazzling display of white, yellow, pink, and darkest crimson blooms. The delightful fragrance of roses and herbs filled the air, bursting with sweetness. In the backdrop, a quaint old cottage with shuttered windows rested as if waiting for a passing stranger to dare to cross its threshold. Within, skylights alighted on all manner of crystals as they twinkled, longing for a release from their embedded position on the walls. The ground around the cottage stirred, breaking and settling as if the cottage might be drawn back into its hiding place: the earth.
In the surrounding courtyard, there were cages and feeders for birds which hung from the trees. White doves cooed and preened themselves in bird baths.
The creature Eruterac paid no attention to the antics of these exquisite birds, instead he fidgeted as he tried to rearrange his tall skeletal frame into Leanne’s dainty, wrought iron chairs.
Leanne sat opposite him. Except for the tulle layers of her silken gown, her tiny frame appeared lost in the chair. She tilted her head with an air of grandeur as if she was about to join a garden party frequented by the finest royalty, or perhaps the Gods themselves.
Eruterac had no such attire, except for his knitted rasta cap with sun-cured palm leaves which covered his matted dreadlocks.
His needs were a thing of the past, for now his concerns were reduced to the worms that crawled across his bony frame. He held one such wrigging creature inches from the gap where his mouth used to be and edged forward dangling it in front of Leanne’s nose.
“Dinner,” he joked as he bobbed his skeletal head.
Leanne shuddered. “No worms, thanks, dearest creature. Caviar for me!” She picked up her finest china teapot and poured the liquid into a cup. It flowed slowly, twinkling with a myriad of brilliant colours. When it filled the cup, it turned the colour Leanne expected. She’d thought of green tea and magical green tea it was.
Eruterac choked and spluttered on clods of earth as he laughed. “That’s foul. Green tea, how can you drink such muck?”
“Easy. I do so with a smile, unlike … poor you! I see worms continue to ooze gunk where your dear mouth used to be,” replied Leanne, reaching forward to pat Eruterac on his skeletal shoulder.
They rested for a moment, her gentle hand on his bones.
“I’ll try not to drink such delicacies!” replied Eruterac, cracking his bones for a joke.
“Wise fellow. Forgive me for changing the subject but your new hat is very fetching! I’s so brown and earthy with that Chiastolite death crystal, completed by that black cross embellishing the cap’s centre.”
“Indeed, it’s a dark beauty, like an honourable death,” he said, his skeletal arm reached up to touch the crystal on his hat.
“Take heart, dear Creature, forget about death, and being bound to this cottage. Let us rejoice in the simple pleasures of life which we take for granted…” Leanne pointed at their sublime surroundings.
Eruterac sighed. ”Yes, there are times when amidst such tranquillity and beauty that I forget everything.”
A white dove landed on Leanne’s slender shoulder, she turned and smiled. But the dove thought better of it and alighted on the Creature’s hat. It pecked away at the worms making the creature smile.
“They know who provides them with a constant dinner of worms. And who’s boss.”
“Huh! A boss? You? That Chiastolite’s making you big-headed. Oh, my days! The protectors, you, and my dearest doves are all that I and my dear cottage need… But, I mustn’t forget, I have news to impart – the midsummer fly is up to his tricks.”
“Where’s that stinking fly been to this time?” asked Eruterac, leaning forward, sending worms tumbling towards Leanne’s teacup. Her eyes grew wide as she placed a protective hand over the top but a few swift worms landed in the saucer. She swiped them away.
More to come, there is a mention of the bloodstone in the latter part of this opening chapter, find out more when the book is complete. It continues to be my most challenging writing project, so it may be a while. Be patient with me dear readers.
Any feedback would be greatly received.
While I am editing book two here is the link to the first book in the YA fantasy series The Curse of Time #1 Bloodstone, the blurb and some review quotes.
Fifteen-year-old Amelina Scott lives in Cambridge with her dysfunctional family, a mysterious black cat, and an unusual girl who’s imprisoned within the mirrors located in her house. When an unexpected message arrives inviting her to visit the Crystal Cottage, she sets off on a forbidden pathway where she encounters Ryder, a charismatic, but perplexing stranger.
With the help of a magical paint set, and some crystal wizard stones she discovers the truth about a shocking curse that has destroyed her family’s happiness.
“This delightful book will appeal to teens and young adults who love stories filled with magical crystals, dark family curses, and mysteries waiting to be solved around every corner. Each chapter leads you on a journey of discovery where Amelina earns the right to use three wizard stones to reset the balance of time and finally break the curse that holds her family hostage. A captivating tale!” – Colleen M. Chesebro (Editor)
The Crapsey cinquain is a five-line, non-rhyming poem featuring a syllable structure of 2/4/6/8/2. Choose words that create drama which builds into the fourth line. Remember, the turn occurs on line five, the most important line. This is where you change your focus away from the drama in some interesting way. Surprise your readers!
How could I not take part with such an evocative image chosen by Diana?
This challenge explores Ekphrastic writing inspired by visual art (photographs). Diana Peach from last month’s challenge has provided the photo for this month’s challenge.
ETHEREE: The Etheree poem consists of ten lines of 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 syllables. An Etheree can also be reversed and written 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1
This week, Kat Myrman, from Like Mercury Colliding, selected the words:
Imagine & Gratitude
So, I decided to write about my recent walk in the botanical gardens in Cambridge. It was a glorious autumn day which filled my spirit full of imagination and gratitude. There is a small area which is normally for school children only but this has been opened to the public.
I took various photos. I particularly loved this lovely writers throne which I shared on my Instagram…
I thought I’d write a nonet to celebrate my hubby and I ‘s anniversary. We had a lovely day together yesterday. So this is for us! We’ve stood the test of time and been married for 33 years! Imagine… He isn’t one for social media, so I rarely post photos of him, so instead here is a lovely pic I found on pexels.
This challenge explores Ekphrastic writing inspired by visual art (photographs). Lisa Thompson, from last month’s challenge, has provided the photo for this month’s challenge.
Image credit:Unsplash, and the photographer is Wolfgang Hasselmann
The tea gossips begin. A line black marks my whereabouts
M J Mallon YA Author and Poet 