Category Archives: Short Stories

AN ANGEL CALLED SCAMMER

https://writeyouwriteme.com/2017/01/19/an-angel-called-scammer/image credit; internet

AN ANGLE CALLED SCAMMER

Oh to have a little house
With glowing hearth and fireside bright
On a cold and dreary winter’s night
Home sweet home is my delight

But if a foot should softly tread
A chill would travel down my being

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Then I would tremble in my chair
And with cowards’ courage I’d ask who’s there?

Tis’ I, a soft voice would then replied
Reminisce of years gone
A longing in my soul to hear once more
Yes. A voice I know so very well

“What brings you here? Pray do tell”
To keeps you safe… it is God’s command.
Deadlocks cannot keep me afar
I am part of you I will always be near

Generations have come and gone
My face in the flames you see it still
I am the shadow on the wall
And the chime of the clock that stands in the hall

I will comfort you when the fire dwindles
When ashes disintegrate
Stealing the light and the heat

Do not tremble .Do not fear
Trust me. Be brave
Locked doors cannot keep me from you
Sweet lady
I bring you peace. I bring you love
Let your heart warm to my voice

It’s I who gently takes your hand
I am your Guardian Angel
From Heaven above
Close your eyes feel the fire’s flame
Hear my soft footfall draw nearer…

Oh, to have a little house.
To own the hearth and stool
Turf piled against the wall
Home Sweet Home
My delight with an angel guiding from above
Watching over all I love.

There! The step again – nearer still
Awake! My slumbering sentiment
Was that footstep in my fantasising?
Scurry to bed from the fire’s flame bewitchment

Sleep well my dear
A trickster has breached your memories
Dawn’s light will find your fire dead
Your house relieved of your valuables.
G C Hill Jan 2017 ©

Forgiveness Is a Sign Of Weakness…

It’s New Years’ time
Revellers sing out a refrain of change
Begin again. Begin again…

The ice in my veins strains
I can feel it cracking, fragmenting
But still…
The memory of your vicious words
Going for the jugular every one
Tearing me limb from limb
I won’t– not yet – forgive
But still…

It’s New Years’ time
Revellers ring in the change
The ice in my heart yearns
Melting, my hand drifts to the cellular
I falter
Feel the lash of your tongue blistering my skin
Re-open old sores
It’s weakness to forgive
Better to remember your hate filled venom
Forgiveness – a sign of weakness

But still…
You’re forever in my brain
My hands punch your number in
Faltering
Slam the phone – kills the call to forgive
Maybe next New Years’ time
Drawing in my breath
Resolutely I sustain myself
Remembering …

It’s New Years’ time
Revellers are ringing in the changes
The church bell calls
Sun streams across your burial casket
Shattering my armour
The ice in my heart cracks asunder

Shards devour my unforgiving quintessence
That ‘next’ year ‘next’ time
Will not come now
G C Hill Jan 2017 ©

Blessings

This little poem by local woman Susan Mc Kay says so eloquently what I wish for all my readers in 2017.
The poem was first published in a poem Anthology by Strabane and District Creative Writers in 1997.
To all my readers/followers local and far from home, thank you. Your acknowledgement of my poems and short stories makes it all worthwhile.
To all the Strabane/Donegal photographers and artists who so generously allow me to publish their amazing images of our great wee border towns on my Facebook page and writers blog writeyouwriteme. com I appreciate each and every image you permit me to post.

From our house to yours – a very joyous Christmas xx

Enjoy Kay McKay poem from the heart.

Blessings
Yellow is the colour of the moon and sun so bright
Like the kindness of friends they give off rays of light
So thank you my dear friends
And I pray that God above
Will shower you in Abundance
With his blessings and love

By Susan McKay 1997

I can’t think right now of Christmas time
My brain is going round and round
With equations and English phrases
Not to mention maps and places
Between my ears is ablaze

My brain is fried
I wish I didn’t have to burn the midnight oil
I’d rather
Listen to Christmas carollers in the street
Peep out my window and see
Moonlight and snowflakes patterning the trees

Grip tight to the tin tray cum sleigh
Feel fear possess me like a living thing
Fly down the hill with its twists and bends
Screaming at the top of my lungs
Adrenalin pumping through my skull

But hey, reality check for me
Childhood memories aside
Grades are what matter now

I bend my head to the books and sigh

But Listen!
It’s late Christmas Eve
Outside my window bells jingle softly

In the silent night
I kill the light
Stealthily creep on stockined feet

I’ve got him now.
This Christmas I will see his face
Red cheeked from the leaping flames

There is Santa large as life
Red suit in a wrinkled pile
Kissing my Mama
By candlelight!!!

Am I the dumbest clot  alive?
Still looking for Santa at twenty-nine!

G C Hill Dec 2016

wishful sigh
lamented cry
A spotty youth on a school bench waiting for his bus
A Christmas wish written on his heart
A girlfriend

Not just anyone
But Kelsey with her smile so bright

You fool!
She will never look at you
She has the pick of sixth formers
She’s the bell of the formal night

Kelsey changes her seat on the bus
Slides in beside him
Offers to help him with his English revision

Sweat breaks out all over him
Has he spoken aloud?
Has she overheard?
Say something, you fool before she thinks you dumb

Won’t your boyfriend mind? He asks
Giving her a half smile

She laughs

He might punch you in the head
– a joke she quips

I’ll take my chance on that
I could do with your help…and your friendship. he smiled
A feeling washes over him
He’s ten feet tall
And clear skinned.

It Christmas time in sunny clims
Santa is spittin’ sweat through his dripping beard
“Why are all the christmay greeting
Of cool snow and winter scenes?
It topping 39 and clamouring for 40”

Santa’s suit of red – a sauna steamy
He flies his sleigh to Glorious Perth
wishes he was on Bondi Beach
Sipping a Pina Colada or
A cool expresso at Café Fresco
To quench his thirst
Give him the edge
keep the flagging hoofs of the reindeers airborne

“A merry Christmas my ass,” he mutters
“False marketing –
That’s what I call this sham doodles.”
Next year I’m off to Ireland
Weather permitting

writeyouwriteme.com

 image courtesy of the internet

It’s lonely now at Christmas time. I’m on my own and all alone.
If I still believe in the magic of the moon and the star that guided the Three Wise Men
I’d offer up a wish prayer that this Christmas Day as Christ the King’s birthday is celebrated in festivities
That a lonely soul. like me, would hear a knock on the door. And a voice might ask “Are you OK? Can I be of any help my dear?”
But I suppose that’s wishful thinking
I’m living in the wrong century

G C Hill Dec 2016

The Road not taken  By Robert Frost

What If…

What If

What If…

Did you ever think what if,,,
What If life had been different?
What if I had been born in a different place in my family?
What if love for me was different?
What if ….
In this poem Robert Frost looks down the road he choose not to travel
And wonders… what if
Enjoy

WORDS
A moment’s surrender obligatory
Hold that penchant
That insidious spewing

Pilfer words from your tongue
Examine their fury
Like mad dog frothing

Fathom you cannot
In The heat of the fracas
A moment’s surrender requisite

Think, man, of the unsullied
Stained for generations by
Ignorant anger at symbolism

In the cavity of your jaw
Replace the freed prose
Feel their fury flounder like ice before fire

Freed from the need to eradicate
Proffer the thought
Do words need to be spewed at all?

Born in September when

The Autumn lleaves were falling

Long lashes resting on chubby cheeks

A frown creased brow as if

The gentle slap of the midwife hand

Interrupted  sleep

under your mother heart
Man size now

I still see the little boy

Wrapped tightly in a blanket of blue

One small fist exploring

The new w world  he finds himself part of

Little feet

Little hands

Perfect in every sense

Man size now

Smiling eyes of flecked twang brown

Reflective now and then  in comtemplation

Of the world  you must enhabit as  boy and man