The Writer's Voice
The World's Favourite Literary Website



Rusty Broadspear

The wind was punching everything in sight,

Clouds paced impatiently as if migrating,

The Sun peek-a-booed time and time again,

The dog chased his tail, endlessly rotating.

Jessica was five, stood alone in the garden,

With plaits, and bare arms holding, clutching Sue,

The rag doll that she found on the beach,

When she was little, looking for a lost shoe.

Uncle Stan, 'orrible man, sent her down here

When he wanted to kiss Mummy. She didn't cry,

Not anymore. Took comfort from Sue, her friend,

Sharing problems that were in plentiful supply.

The gate slapped in rhythm against the post

Jessica and Sue dance-twirled like the old hound,

The bushes, trees, the whole garden rocked'n'rolled,

Then Sue flew through the air, landed hard on the ground.

The mutt got there first and frenziedly shook Sue,

Jessica screamed, Drop Her! but her words flew away,

Followed by woolly bits of doll, to migrate on the wind.

Noone heard Jessica's sobs that fearful, fateful day.

At the front of the house Uncle Stan, the 'orrible man

Was kissing Mummy goodbye,

Until the wind snatched him from Mummy's arms,

And frisked him and whisked him, up into the sky.

Jessica looked up and watched Uncle Stan fly.

Critique this work

Click on the book to leave a comment about this work

All Authors (hi-speed)    All Authors (dialup)    Children    Columnists    Contact    Drama    Fiction    Grammar    Guest Book    Home    Humour    Links    Narratives    Novels    Poems    Published Authors    Reviews    September 11    Short Stories    Teen Writings    Submission Guidelines

Be sure to have a look at our Discussion Forum today to see what's
happening on The World's Favourite Literary Website.