Monthly Archives: November 2014

A Walk in the Park

Going for a walk this morning as the mist began to clear and the November sun made a final appearance.

A Walk in the Park

A Walk in the Park



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Creative Writing

Difference Indifference

A wine glass, half empty, that’s been my life.
All pleasure long gone, all passion is spent.
No longer active, no loving wife,
Doors are now closed to me, keys have got bent.
Needing a push to get up and go
Trips to the supermarkets get a bit rough,
The stresses of shopping, my trolley piled low.
Don’t think I’m complaining – I don’t give a stuff.

Peter Young © 2014

Written at the Creative Writing group yesterday. The exercise was to write a piece including: A Yale key / supermarket trolley / bad-tempered senior citizen / stress / wine glass / indifference.

Below are some of the pieces I wrote for previous exercises. I particularly like the challenge of having a limit of 100 words. Here’s my latest attempt:


One day, I found a bogeyman under my bed.
“Mum. There’s a bogeyman under my bed”
“Don’t be silly. There’s no such thing as a bogeyman.”
“But there is. Under my bed.”
“One more word …”
“Honest, Mum …”
“Right. Outside.”
I sat on the porch. I looked in through the letterbox. I saw my Mum go upstairs.
Later she came down again to let me in.
Her face was red and she was out of breath.
“You were right,” she said. “There was a bogeyman. But it’s OK now. He put up quite a fight. But he’s under my bed now.”


Peter Young © 2014

and my first attempt:


Mr …
Ah, yes. OK.
Any problem getting here?
Yes, it can be a bit confusing.
You made your own way here … were you assisted at all?
OK. That makes things easier.
Have you filled in your form?
Mmm. I see you’ve left Religion blank.
No, not a problem. Not for us, anyway.
It’s so that we know where to place you.
So here’s your pink slip.
For the induction programme. You’ll need time to adjust, get acclimatised.
And that’s it. Thank you.
Now, through the Pearly Gates and it’s the very last door on the left.


Peter Young © 2014

I also wrote two linked poems on the theme of Independence, as a reflection on recent changes in my life:


Part 1

I’m off, she said, her suitcase on the floor.
She picked it up and walked towards the door.
OK, I said, believing this was bluff.
I’m leaving, leaving you. I’ve had enough.
Enough of me? That’s all you have to say?
I miss my friends, my family’s far away.
They come to visit, once or twice a year.
It’s not enough; I want them to be near.
Then go to them, you must. I’ll not object.
I’ll not come back. It’s time we disconnect.
If that’s the way you feel, what can I say?
So now I’m off. For good. I’m on my way.
And that was that, the exit of my wife,
The prelude to an independent life.

Part 2

And now my independence finds me here
In Worcestershire, a place I hardly know.
A chance to rediscover in a year
Who I’ve become, and where I’ve yet to go.

Our different paths diverge; we must adjust
To lives unshared, encounters unremarked.
Joint memories are left to gather dust
Where once upon a time they would have sparked

The telling of adventures we had had.
Reduced to anecdote, example, or a joke.
You were not there, not glad or sad-
dened by the wistful feelings they evoke.

Although we plan our lives, well, more or less,
The fates do not allow our dreams full fruit
It seemed a good idea, we might confess,
The path was mapped, we were en route
But that was not to be; there’s more to do
So on I go, till life knocks all askew.


Peter Young © 2014


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