Waiting

Tayler climbed up on the zebra print sofa in the living room of his mum’s house, he was dressed up in his cowboy costume. Kneeling down he rested his elbows on the cushions and cupped his head in his hands as he looked out the rain spattered window. He looked out at the red and white balloons that had been attached to the posts in the front garden for his sixth birthday last Tuesday.

It was Sunday now the balloons had shrivelled up like his hands did if he spent too long in the bath, he watched as the strengthening wind dragged them along the ground on their strings. It made him think of Buzz the Doberman dog that belonged to Mr Riley who lived next door. Tayler sometimes went with Mr Riley to walk the dog round the Green, Mr Riley said that Buzz was dawdling when he had to pull at his lead to make him stop sniffing in the long grass. He was sure Mr Riley would laugh if he told him that Buzz was like an old balloon. Tayler liked hearing Mr Riley’s big mans’ laugh.

He had heard his Mum on the phone earlier, her voice had carried down the stairs as she shouted really loudly, she had used all the bad words that he knew you were not meant to say and he knew that she only shouted like that when she talked to his dad.

Tayler looked up at the clock it read half past eleven. Tayler knew how important it was to be able to tell the time, the judge had told them what time things were meant to happen on Sundays, and he knew as a lawman himself that you shouldn’t break the law.

Tayler was the sheriff now he had the costume on for his dad to see all he needed were the smoke signals of his dad’s exhaust.

Originally posted 17 May 2014

Advertisements

Escapologist

 

photo credit: Derek R Goulet Beach Bird via photopin (license)

Yesterday is not tomorrow,
Memories are not today.
All those childhood tears
Yet you are not crying now.
You survived my darling,
You survived.

And those heartfelt sighs,
Too, too many goodbyes.
Teddy bears the only lonely listeners,
And birds with broken wings.
Yet you survived my darling.
You may still fly.
 
© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Jasmine

photo credit: Ross Elliott CorfeCastle 0214 0801bw via photopin (license)

photo credit: Ross Elliott CorfeCastle 0214 0801bw via photopin (license)

Jasmine twists across the tower doorway
Green vine only no flowers left,
No sweet perfume. Just castle ruins

A path forgotten, overgrown.
Gardens glory ages past
In this abandoned Camelot.

© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Summons You Away

The summer sun summons you away
Like a mirage dancing
First there and then gone,
To reappear again over there.
A between times moment,
False trail, just glimpsed
Out of the corner of the eye.
 
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Goodnight My Darling Universe

photo credit: Deep Space 1 via photopin (license)

photo credit: Deep Space 1 via photopin (license)

Interference,
Static hiss,
A hundred different inputs,
A million alien sounds.
When all I’m looking for
Is a simple sign of life,
Intelligent or not.
Carried on the ether
Across the universe.
A flickering beacon
Firelight tale
Told to a child.
Tucked up between the covers,
Not digitised or pixelated
With tie-in merchandise,
No static hiss
Nor interference
Just once upon a time.

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Originally Published 30 October 2015

Save

Mercy Child

photo credit: goodbye via photopin (license)

photo credit: goodbye via photopin (license)

Mercy, child why are you crying?
All the tears in the ocean
Won’t bring Daddy back home again.

Child why are you dreaming,
You’ve got to pack away the toys and games
No tantrums, not on moving day.
We’ve got to go
We can’t afford to live here, the end,
Nothing more to say.

Child, why are dying?
Nothing lasts forever;
Happiness is the greatest lie
And the first casualty to die.
Because fish go swimming in different seas.
No! You can’t see Daddy today.
 
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Forgotten

I am small
Neglected and broken
Put aside
In favour of newer toys
Bright and shiny
Presents unwrapped
But it would be wrong
To throw me away
And misplace the memory
Of the adventures
That we imagined together
And the games we have played

© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Goodnight My Darling Universe

…and finally here’s Day 30, goodnight.

Made of sticks and stones

photo credit: Deep Space 1 via photopin (license) photo credit: Deep Space 1 via photopin(license)

Interference,
Static hiss,
A hundred different inputs,
A million alien sounds.
When all I’m looking for
Is a simple sign of life,
Intelligent or not.
Carried on the ether
Across the universe.
A flickering beacon
Firelight tale
Told to a child.
Tucked up between the covers,
Not digitised or pixelated
With tie-in merchandise,
No static hiss
Nor interference
Just once upon a time.

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

View original post

Waiting

Day 14 of the 30 Reblogs of November and the first of a double header

Made of sticks and stones

Tayler climbed up on the zebra print sofa in the living room of his mum’s house, he was dressed up in his cowboy costume. Kneeling down he rested his elbows on the cushions and cupped his head in his hands as he looked out the rain spattered window. He looked out at the red and white balloons that had been attached to the posts in the front garden for his sixth birthday last Tuesday.  

It was Sunday now the balloons had shrivelled up like his hands did if he spent too long in the bath, he watched as the strengthening wind dragged them along the ground on their strings. It made him think of Buzz the Doberman dog that belonged to Mr Riley who lived next door. Tayler sometimes went with Mr Riley to walk the dog round the Green, Mr Riley said that Buzz was dawdling when he…

View original post 170 more words