We’re Going To See A Bear


We’re going to see a wild bear
An adventure and one of the dares
In the island where he subsists
A mist in the air but we persist
Across the meadow where birds sing
Our way of bonding instead of boozing
Just around the bend of an unstable bridge
With river beds and attractive hill ridge
Hang on, watch out for that big rock
Oh no, he didn’t see it, it was a shock
On that lane where we cannot retreat
Our time has come and we cannot cheat
Too late now, we’re skidding
We’re shouting and it’s not acting
Falling faster and rolling around
Goodbye world, hope we’ll be found

by brenda warren

For: Sunday Photo Fiction and Wordle 115


A Day In The Life Of Liudvika

THIS WEEK’S WORDS come from “Makings” by Gary Snyder: tongue, fingernail, flare, friends, poor, window, shack, round, smoke, war, overalls, grimy


Liudvika comes for her weekly cleaning
She has her own key so she doesn’t ding
She dons her overalls and inspects what to do
But first she looks out to have a lovely view

She looks at the grimy windows and procrastinates
Her employers are lucky, she’s such a cheapskate
Her tongue so sharp and starts complaining
Then her mood changed and started singing

Of how poor she is then went out for a smoke
She thought of her country and her menfolk
The flare of the match lit up her face
She admires the vase and put it back in place

She looks at her fingernails, they needed cleaning
She looks at her hair, it needed bleaching
She starts attacking the war on dirty windows
They’ve got to be cleaned before it snows

Swish, slosh as the water goes, then wipes them dry
She made a sigh and then looks up the sky
One round won with windows at the ground floor
And she knows she has to tackle the floors

She deserves a break, so she rings up her friends
They talk about shopping and their boyfriends
She carries on cleaning until she’s done the hours
Such is the life of Liudvika, not sweet but sour

For: Sunday Photo Fiction and Whirligig 33


The Start of Something Wonderful – Sunday Photo Fiction – June 14th 2015


One bored patent examiner in Switzerland.

He was looking at the town hall clock.

He thought: “What will I see if I move away from the clock at the speed of light?”

That was the birth of something wonderful and catastrophic at the same time.

Nowadays we can have a GPS on our wrist watch.

Or we are able to destroy the entire city with a material the size of a match stick.

(73 words)


Solitaire – Sunday Photo Fiction – June 7th 2015 and Wordle 195

Wooden solitaire set
Wooden solitaire set

It was a long battle of wits
Listing each other’s faults
Generating doubts and anguish
What’s the point of channelling energy?
When it was a lost scuffle from the start?
So great was the demoralisation
That fortresses capitulate to defeat
Succumbing to despair and ennui
The overwhelming blackness of space
Inky dark except for the sprinkling of stars
She could sense that her stumble condemned her
She could smell the end of the whole affair
She doesn’t mind being single again
And playing solitaire on her own

by brenda warren
by brenda warren


Waiting – Sunday Photo Fiction and Wordle 162

A line of benches overlooking the sea
A line of benches overlooking the sea

Hoping for a meeting with you again
I’ve been admiring you since we were freshmen
Pigeons flutter hoping I’ll feed them
I’ve got nothing so they’re not getting their treats
Go away and leave me alone, ahem, ahem
They’ve got something over the next streets
Oh how I wish to see your beautiful face again
Your lovely smile, more so your delightful laugh
But then there’s news from the weathermen
Some atmospheric pressures from his barograph
Report says there’s pressure from the north
I need to believe in that survey
Otherwise I’ll be stuck here, mate
Still sitting on the squeaky benches
If I could see you again, I’d be happy
I’m just here on the bench by the sea

by brenda warren
by brenda warren


Hard is the Journey of a Seaman – Sunday Photo Fiction

A pair of Anchors
A pair of Anchors

Hard is the journey of a seaman
Staying on his ship in his cabin
Not seeing land on months on end
Working on holiday or the weekend
Not seeing children as they grow
As long as he keeps sending dough
Not being there on every occasion
Even though his heart is breaking
Life is tough to pursue his dreams
Keeps himself sane by his daydreams
His voyage far and wide around the world
As long as he doesn’t go to the underworld
So many places to an arduous travel end
Leaving behind loved ones and all friends
He yearns for the anchor to bring him home
Enough roaming, just bring him to his home


Ice-Cream – Sunday Photo Fiction – May 17th 2015

Ice-cream is one of my favourite treats. It’s part of my childhood memories, having to wait for the ice-cream man in the street and buying one which we usually call “dirty ice-cream.” I don’t really know why we call it like that, all I know was that it was really delicious, especially the mango or purple yam flavours, not to forget the pineapple and banana flavours.

When I was in Britain, ice-cream vans are different and are often brightly decorated and carry images of ice cream. Along the sides, a large sliding window acts as a serving hatch, and this is often covered with small pictures of the available products, with their associated prices. A distinctive feature of ice cream vans is their melodic chimes, and often these take the form of a famous and recognizable tune. There are two types of vans: a “hard van” which sells scoop ice cream and is only equipped with a freezer and a “soft van” which has a freezer and also a soft serve whippy machine installed serving ice cream cones and Screwballs.


Ice-cream, ice-cream, I scream
Merrily, merrily, life is but a dream
Mangoes, purple yam, chocolate
I guess it all comes down to fate
Strawberry, vanilla, pineapple
I dream of nightshade and purple
Rocky road, some delight, you choose
From the tangled shroud of sleep, I rose
Always fun in the summer at the park
Met this guy, his name is Mark
Warm breeze, bright days by the lake
You find yourself at the bottom of the lake
Ice-cream, ice-cream, I scream
Merrily, merrily, life is but a dream!


My Sunday – Sunday Photo Fiction – 10th May 2015


A quiet Sunday in my town
I’m still wearing my nightgown
Still in bed, no alarm clock
Birds haven’t even squawk
Not a soul in sight
Such a peaceful plight
A faint rainbow in the sky
Better make my life simplify
Grey clouds, a shroud of mist
I still remember when he kissed
Take it easy today, quite a lazy day
It’s Mother’s Day, I’m enjoying my day


The Grasshopper – Sunday Photo Fiction and Finish It! #3

Grasshopper on a wrist watch
Grasshopper on a wrist watch

He looked around. Where did she go? She was just standing next to him and now she was no longer there. Panic started to take over! How could he have lost her! How could she have disappeared so quickly? And how would he be able to find her again here and now?

Where could she be? Would he be able to see her again? How could he lose her suddenly? Martin couldn’t comprehend what has just happened. One minute they were talking animatedly, arguing at times and laughing the next minute. It was always like that with Amanda, full of drama and action. But it was the first time that she disappeared quickly.

Out of the blue, a grasshopper flew on Martin’s wrist watch. It was an olive green one with black markings which resemble chevrons. It was just there. Did Amanda turn into a grasshopper, he pondered. He observed the grasshopper’s eyes, which were coloured to blend into its environment. He reminisced Amanda’s big brown eyes, always curious, always excited and always sparkling.

Martin tried to pick the grasshopper up. It spat a brown liquid to him, then catapulted up and flew off quickly. “Wait,” yelled Martin. But the grasshopper jumped and flickered away, never to be seen again.


Sunday Photo Fiction – My White Horse


As I lay down to sleep
I dream of you, my white horse
I can hear your distant tapping on the road
Like a deepening drumming as you galloped by
And when you present yourself outside my window
Such a wonderful sight, so elegant and proud
Yes, we’ll ride together over meadows and lanes
Over mountains and plains as the moon and stars watch
We’ll ride over streamlets and seas
As the fish swim and the birds fly by the sea
I like the wind caressing me with the whisk of your tail
I like the sound of your neigh as we fly together
Dreaming away to our own magical world