Sofia, Kong Kee, the Dab & the Dory


Sofia the large sandy crab
Afraid of a life too drab
Took to the sea
With her cousin Kong Kee
And a six spotted floundering dab

Oh Kong Kee now this is the life
No worries no trouble no strife
Shoulda done this before
She got hit by an oar
And that was the end of her life

The dab and Kong Kee carried on
To finish their cousins swansong
The smell of fishrot
In a new fangled pot
Was the end for the cousin called Kong

Now the dab swims alone in the bay
While the sun shines he's still making hay
For he's back whence he went
Pocket money all spent
And so happily, blissfully gay

Dab met a small fish on the way
Who aspired to become a great ray
He ate as he must
Til his belly did bust
And he ends up as soup o' the day

There's a moral in each little story
So never go hunting for glory
You'll end up on a plate
Tryin' to mimic a skate
When you're really a small johnny dory

Lucifer the Broken Mould

Alone He stands, forsaken, on the edge of desperation

Apocalyptic tales of hate filled desecration

The unholy one devoid of any love nor hellish glory

Lies revealed within the telling of his story


Cast from Heavens favour, fractured from the light

Home at last to labour, in the vacancy of night

No choice but to be Bad for Good no chance of Gods Redemption

Racked by indignation at His screaming souls exemption


Mans destiny lies written in a wake of tortured souls

Ancient gnarled fingers hold His bloodstained begging bowl

Bathed in hellish beauty of a future yet unborn

Hell hath no more fury than a fallen angels scorn


His horsemen blaze a fiery trail across the barren sky

From Hades gates they ride not caring who or even why

Brands of fire, hooves of Steel, their blood it drips as sweat

The only quest before them, to cash in the Devils debt


The ace of spades is drawn from the Devils book of prayer

The gambler knows his race is run and death is drawing near

No silver in his pockets for the boatmans sordid toll

The last debt yet to pay….. his very soul


A necessary evil for a Devil to be shod

For without the fires of Hell, how can mankind know of God

As Judas in Gethsemane condemned to take the fall

Was Lucifers faith written out  in blood upon the wall


Unanswered questions . . .

The Cold Cusp War

Had to Re-Blog this one . . .

Aoibha Walsh

via Daily Prompt: Cusp

The roads diverged at the end of a scenario

Showing that everything was over

The air was crisp, the mountains bliss

Underneath the grass and clover

The gunshots were heard from across the water

Each family, holding close their son and daughter

The ear splitting noise began to seep

“Let this be over soon,” The soldiers weep

Heaven above heard their cry

No longer did they have to suffer and die

The war was over, the remnants shocked

Yet no more were called cowards and mocked

It was the end of a cusp war

No one knew what the fighting was for

Told it would be over four Christmases  ago

Yet no, they remained fighting friend and foe.

I wrote this thinking about the two major wars that took part less than 100 years ago. I also had an interest in learning about the war and…

View original post 28 more words

My Living Soul

At the dawning of time

When not even ‘light’ had a presence

He said, “Let there be light”

And the Earth was consumed in its essence

The darkness was fractured

As daylight held it at bey

The darkness, He named it, the Night

And the light he called Day


He formed all of Earth

He divided the lands from the seas

The most beautiful flora and fauna

A treasure of fruits and of trees

A myriad of stars, to watch over His flock

Signs from the Heavens, a celestial clock


The birds and the animals

All creatures and fishes

He, filled up the seas

And a world full of wishes

The most wondrous of beasts

Of the land, sea and air

With scales and with tails

And with feathers and hair


Now, I shall make ‘man’ in my image

With power over death and o’er birth

From the creatures that live in the oceans

In the air, on the land, in the dirt

Man will feed and will clothe, from these bounties

He will grow, in his civilization

For ‘he’ is the pick of My crop

The fruits of My fondest creation


The Heavens and earth, now are plenished

Creation has taken its toll

The seventh day, now I am rested

Mankind, is My Own, Living Soul


For Martha L Shaw . . . Hope you like this one !