Monthly Archives: December 2015
Croome Court glows in the winter sunshine, revealed once more now the scaffolding is all but gone.
It was in the park that we met.
Autumn had coloured up our feelings of fellowship,
and our respective memories stretched out on retractable leads,
both faithful dogs, sniffing each other’s bottoms,
searching for recognition and significance.
Their leads became entangled
as coincidences floated down from the trees,
shedding the dry brown, enthusiastic red,
and precious gold from life’s storehouse.
Our histories began to play with the rough and tumble of coincidence,
and to ease our wondering we each threw a ball
as far as possible into that green future,
and let our dogs scamper through the carpet of possibilities.
© 2015 Peter Young
(Another 100-word exercise set by the Creative Writing group.)
Standing there on a dusty sideboard
the scented candle, with a blackened wick
and a smell of apples and burnt wax
just as you left it when you snuffed its life
using your thumb and forefinger
moistened by your impassioned tongue.
The trail of smoke lasted for the time
it took you to switch on your ignition
and leave the stink of petrol
eddying in the wake of your getaway.
At first I’d thought the scented candle cute;
I couldn’t wait for sharing the joy of lighting it.
But in the process we also flared up
and the rotten apples of our lives
did not smell as sweet as the burning wax.
That was definitely a symbolic move on your part.
You could easily have left through the french windows
and sauntered across the garden,
stopping to admire the roses,
and turned to wave goodbye to the solitary flame.
But instead, you let the scented candle come between us,
denied its need to burn long and low
and cut it off even before the scent had filled the room
where previously we had found each other
and love, scented with a different perfume.
© Peter Young 2015