Forgotten Dreams

Where did I go?

Asleep in my dreams

no blackness of death,

my mind was alive.

Where did I go?

Did my consciousness

span the universe or the

 depths of oceans blue?

Where did I go?

Did I climb tall mountains,

and did I fly free as a bird,

or travel far out of time.

Where did I go?

Was I with you, my love,

safe in our nest. And together,

did we do all those things?



Away with sweet!


There is far too much sugar in our diets today, few would disagree. Neither would most contest that it is bad for our health in excessive quantities, and excessive consumption is not rare. We can do without it, indeed it was not introduced into Britain until the 1600’s. And so, if I had to lose a taste, sweetness would be it. By far, I prefer savoury food and most of the main meals I cook are Asian, predominantly Indian;


The Curry is King

Tongue in raptures, delicious flavours
to delight the palate. Bitter, sweet,
sour and tang of salt.
Spices to stimulate all
vibrations of my being.

Perfecting the balance, ever
striving to concoct the
ultimate gastronomic high.
What should I lose? Nay
not one, all must reveal.

But one I must leave behind.
Of what could I live without?
The heat and fragrance
of exotic spices? I’d rather
lose the breath of life.

Salt, to season, so fine,
no chef would be without.
Bitter and sour, the fire of life,
I see no future without their kind.
And so dear sweet and sugary food.

It is you that must go, for
what would I miss but chocolate,
cookies and sweet desserts.
Little loss to save the thrill
of the master curry.

The Life of a Comma

A tricky fellow,

the comma,

seemingly simple,

but no,

he’ll tie you in knots

and change your intent.

Eats shoots and leaves,

is the diet of

a placid animal.

But what of eats,

shoots and leaves?


how potent he is.

Dangerous yet,

in the wrong hands.

Let’s eat grandma,

oh dear,

we didn’t mean it!

And careful with him,

in a list,

with his bedfellow ‘and’.

Errant, or present where

he should not be,

he twists and turns

your words

to his own decree.

The Daily Promt – By The Dots

Write Place

A story begins, a flash
of inspired vision.
A plot takes form; colour, texture,
sound. I see, I hear.
Characters draw breath, as real as you
or I. A new world is born.

Friends I find there, we share
kinship and care.
The strong and the weak, all,
good or bad.
Tell me how you live and love?
I ask, they tell.

The toil begins, words flow, a line,
a paragraph, a page.
Ever on I write, distractions beset my thoughts.
I find a place of quiet and write
in ecstacy.

Then peace eludes me, people, noise,
but still I write.
The story rises above the chaos,
It will not be stilled.
I continue, oblivious in my new world until,
A lifetime later, the story ends.

Prompted by The Daily Post

All One

I saw you

in the stars,

as I dwelt

on the infinite.


I felt you

in the cosmos,

I knew

we were one.


I loved you

in life,

for eternity

we never die.

This Writers Crazy Cream

An ice cream which would emulate my personality; come with me on a gastronomic experiment.

My exterior is calm and at peace, quiet and composed. So the dish should look benign, no fancy colours, textures or presentation.

Internally, my mind and personality has many depths; adventurous, a risk taker, a lover of life and sensual pleasures. Now, what springs to mind is a spicy ice cream. Indian food is my favourite, made at home most days, hot is good, so a curry ice cream would be a wacky experiment.

Yes, there’s kulfi, a traditional Indian desert, sometimes laced with aromatic spices and nuts. But I’m suggesting a full-blown hot spice curry recipe, a combination of chilli powder, turmeric, ground cumin and ground coriander as a minimum.

The ice cream would ease the heat of the chilli, much like yoghurt based riata or even plain milk does, so the dish could pack quite a punch.

I’m getting the urge to give this a try! Any other takers? 🙂


Prompted by the Daily Post

Vending Hell

I stepped out from my cosy wood cabin and beheld a clear blue sky from the top of a lofty mountain, an azure sea shimmered far below. The air was warm and dry. I looked across the land I owned and saw beautiful animals and birds playing in my garden. It was the land of my dreams.

A noise alerted me, shaking me from my reverie of wonderment. A deep growl drew closer. A lumbering, hairy beast stumbled out of the trees with a drooling mouth and angry eyes. The thing was the size of an elephant, but fast and agile on its four legs, it saw me. The creature paused a moment and then charged. I ran back inside the cabin. It didn’t follow, but prowled the exterior looking for trouble.

Next, the earth shook as the mountain next to mine began to collapse. Weird flying monstrosities fled from its summit. The sky darkened. This was all going wrong. How did I come to be here? I thought back.

It was like any other vending machine, but with a small doorway in the side; it sold new lives. I deposited my coins in a slot, the device whirred and the display prompted me to enter. Inside, I spent 30 minutes selecting my choices from a huge range of lifestyles and places, and then I hit the ‘Enter’ button.

I remember now, the warning sign I’d been too excited to take note of; “Please note. Ensure you clear all selections you do not want; else they may appear in your new world. This may take some time. Happy New Life.”


Prompted by The Daily Post