Prompt response based on the word of the day ~ January 2017 ~ SWING


Image Courtesy of


by John Yeo


   When Donny was a young man he used to love going to the local park with his Father. Dad would push the seesaw up and down to give young Donny a ride, then push him down the slide. Donny would laugh and squeal for more, at the excitement of the moment.

   Donny’s favourite was easily the swing, he enjoyed the feeling of flying through the air and the uncertainty of this ride as his Daddy pushed him higher and higher. Swinging up and down with the momentum of magical uncertainty.

   “Higher, higher! I want the swing to be upwards. Ever higher! Please; Daddy.” Squealed the little fellow excitedly.

    On the way home, Father, who habitually walked along swinging his arms was emulated by little Donny, and soon both father and son were swinging along the road together all the way home.

  As the years passed by, Donny; now a young man spent three years at university studying economics. He became a member of a swinging rock group, playing a golden trumpet, a young rocker, always in the swing of the social scene. It was at a student ball when Donny met Maria, then after a whirlwind courtship, they were soon wed and happily married.

  In spite of the embarrassing situation that occurred when they discovered their neighbours were involved in a wife-swapping group. Swingers who hinted to our couple they would be welcome. An invitation that was rapidly declined.

Donny became a successful entrepreneur, wealthy beyond the dreams of avarice. A man who was both liked and respected at home and in the world of finance.

  A keen golfer, it was rumoured he had a swing worthy of a professional,

  In his later years, Donny dabbled in politics and was soon in line to become the leader of the local political party. There had been a huge swing in public opinion and he was soon elected as leader of the party. Of course, there was opposition and a lot of sour grapes as his opposition had been a well-liked respected politician.

  One day a lone wolf gunman took a shot at Donny and missed killing a bodyguard.

   “You’ll swing for this! Swing on the end of a rope until you are dead! An eye for an eye.” Came several shouts from the crowd.

    Donny never did retire, he was always involved in some form of business operation.  His fortune depended on the swings of the temperamental stock exchange.

  He was found one day dead from a heart attack, swinging in a hammock in his beloved garden.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.




by John Yeo

Autumn winds blowing from the north.
The day dawns, cold with thick gray cloud 
Just becoming visible,
I leave the house at first light.
A solitary bird greets me as I arrive
Flying off with a cry of alarm.
I pick up my spade and begin to dig
Turning the clods of earth over.
I take a break to gather some crops
Leeks, Cabbage, Kale and Carrots.
A productive autumn bounty. 
I continue to dig and turn the soil.
Rooks and Magpies are calling loudly.
The swirling wind scatters leaves around.
As my spade works, earthworms appear
Surfacing from the depths of the ground.
My mind drifts with the swirling leaves.
‘How can you photograph the wind?
You can’t!’ I answer the question.
‘You can only photograph the wind’s breath.
To watch a large Gull, gliding on the wind stream,
Lazily floating across the turbulent sky.
To see the distinctive plumage of a Jay
Frantically seeking cover from leafless trees.
This is the allotment on an autumn morn
Fresh air provided by a restless wind
Close to nature in the awakening dawn.
Exercise aplenty as I wield the spade.
Fresh organic vegetables to harvest.
Nurturing produce from the tiniest seed.
Meeting up with fellow gardeners.
A satisfactory activity to the thinking man.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.



Margaret and I have submitted these two poems, we wrote a couple of years ago for publication in our parish magazine on the theme of Charity Shops.


At the Charity shop window

I stopped and stared.

They were just lying there

So delicate, so pretty.

 Knew I just had to have them.


Two pounds fifty was all it needed

For them to be mine.

 Left the shop with my treasured purchase

Wrapped in a brown paper bag.


Found a seat in the park, sat and opened my wares

Lovingly fingering them.

Wondering who the owner had been.

When had she worn them?

At a Dance, the Ballet, Theatre,

Or even her Wedding?


What did she wear them with?

Did they match her dress or her shoes?

Was she blonde, was she dark?

Was she young, was she old?


Who was her Partner?

Husband, Friend or Lover?

Was he handsome, was he plain?


All I can do is touch them,

Wear them and wonder.

What were my precious wares?

Did I not say?

 An exquisite pair of pale blue silk



Copyright © Written by Margaret Yeo ~ All rights reserved.




Visiting friends in a suburban town,

With time on my hands to shop around.

I was drawn to a window while passing by,

A distinctive character had caught my eye.


With a pointed hat, long hair and a kindly face,

An inviting smile, come and enter this place!

Come and explore every crevice and nook.

 He was holding an open mysterious book.


A book full of magic in every word,

Perched on the cover was a little blue bird.

I entered the shop, imagination to allay,

Shelves full of goods in tantalising display.


A kindly person, behind the counter with style,

A friendly face with a helpful smile.

I enquired about the magical magician,

Or was he a learned alternative physician?


The shop-person smiled, the interesting gent,

Was a model, nothing but a garden ornament.

On sale to benefit the Sue Ryder charity.

I purchased the wizard with this newfound clarity.


I escorted him home, I beg your pardon

He is much too nice to live in the garden.

The wizard lives in our conservatory in essence,

He guards our home and lifestyle in our absence.


Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.


Image © Copyright ~ John and Margaret




Prompt response based on the word of the day ~30th December 2016


Image courtesy of


by John Yeo

  “My New Year resolution!” Exclaimed Sir Jarvis, “Is to make a million, I don’t care how I make it, I intend to cut corners, tread on the ingrained resolutely negative opinions of as many people as becomes necessary.
   I am going to look closely at what is going on in the family business and solve the problems that are haunting us. Once I bring these problems to a resolution, we will see the way ahead clearly with an improved resolution of the optical illusion that is blinding us all to the severity of the current situation.”
  The members of the board were stunned into silence at these ominous words:

   Ferdinand the manager of the family business was suddenly white with shock. “What do you mean Sir Jarvis? Treading on people! Surely not our loyal staff? Or bringing hardship to our suppliers? I can only think your resolution refers to the customers, surely we will never get away with screwing another million pounds out of our long suffering customers?”

    “No Ferdinand; none of these outrageous solutions will answer the need for a swift resolution to our problems. My ultimate resolution of this situation is to sell up and retire on the proceeds. I should easily make my resolved figure from the sale as we are still a going concern.”
  There was uproar as the members of the board realised the implications of this decision.

  Sir Jarvis was resolved in his decision and went on speaking with newly strengthened resolution. “My decision is irreversible, resolved and set in stone. I’m selling out.”

  There was a pause and Sir Jarvis went on to say. “I have had an offer from an entrepreneur who is prepared to pay the price and keep the staff on. My apologies for the suddenness of this resolution. I feel this new management will inject new ideas into our business.
Our paintings and prints, artworks and illustrations will continue to shine with an incredibly brilliant new resolution, under the golden influence of the new President. God Save the Company!”

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved


Prompt response based on the word of the day ~ 19th December 2016

Word for the day ~ TRIM


Image courtesy of


By John Yeo

    It was just a minor accident on the way to work, a loony lorry driver had nudged Jack  Blenkinsop’s car and damaged the trim, but the incident had left him flustered and he was late for the office. Shortly after he arrived he was busy trimming some correspondence down to size, then he was shaken to hear….


    A loud threatening voice from the inner portals of the General Office; the nerve centre of the dynamic up and coming toy manufacturer and supplier, “Claus Toys,”

  “Blenkinsop; Where are you, man?” The voice had taken on a harsher tone; as if the owner, who happened to be Sir Charles Claus, a self-made millionaire; was rather peeved.

    “Coming Sir!” Responded Jack Blenkinsop, with a sigh of resignation. “I’m on my way!” Pushing open the door to the inner sanctum, he stepped back in surprise. Mary, the delectable Mary, who was a high power PA, and the woman of Jack’s dreams was in the process of trimming  Sir Charles Claus’s handsome white beard and moustache.

    “What’s the matter Blenkinsop? You look shocked, my whiskers needed a good trim. Now look here:  I’ve been informed that orders are dropping and we are over staffed. I have decided that we have to get something done immediately. We will trim the staff to a reasonable level, here is a list of people who have been absent for various reasons over the last six months. Get rid of them!”

   “But, Sir Charles! Think of the time of the year and the difficulties and stress you will be subjecting to some of our most loyal employees.”

     “Don’t but me Blenkinsop; I have made my decision. Now get busy or I will add your name to the list.”

    Jack Blenkinsop left the office and sadly made the necessary arrangements. Amid uproar and despair, the evil trim went ahead and several good employees were discharged.

  One week later Jack was giving his privet hedge a trim at the front of his house when the news came through;  his boss Sir Charles Claus had suffered a stroke and he was in a hospital. Jack was sad and shocked, he was soon in touch with Mary, the delectable Mary; who said arrangements were in place and he would be in charge of things for now.

“I warned him to come with me to the gym to keep fit and in trim!” said Mary.

Jack just nodded wistfully.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved


Prompt response based on the word of the day ~ 19th December 2016

Word for the day ~ MESS


Image courtesy of


By John Yeo

“How the heck are we going to get out of this mess? The books will never balance unless we get a new set of staff to manage the North office.”

  “Boss I had to get rid of everyone in one swoop. The accountants warned us that the whole branch was in such a mess that it was liable to bring the company down.” This was said with some vehemence by Jack Smithers the MD:

    “Look here Smithers; I asked you to go in hard and sort out the mess! Not mess the whole thing up; by sacking everyone and  closing the branch down.”

  “But Sir Brian….”

  “Don’t but me Smithers: You’re a mess. You’re fired. Now get out of here!”

 Jack Smithers gulped and looking angry he shouted back at this cruel ruthless obnoxious tyrant.

   “Sir Brian, I have a whole new set of staff ready and waiting to reopen the North office. I have personally vetted and selected these people myself, but I refuse to allow them to begin unless you rescind this mistaken decision and offer me a substantial pay increase. This is the only way you will recover from this mess.”

    The Boss narrowed his eyes and lit a huge cigar from a box on his desk and looked thoughtfully at Smithers, then he suddenly grinned and said.  “Jack we have known each other a long time now. I trust your instincts. We will discuss this further at my club. I always think clearly over a good mess of grub from the Directors Club mess.

   The Boss flicked the ash from his cigar towards a huge ashtray located at the edge of his kidney-shaped desk, missed, and brushed the ash on the floor. As he swept the dusty fragments off the desk a cloud of messy residue blew all over his expensive suit. Looking exasperated he pressed the intercom and yelled.   “Gladys! can you come in here at once and bring something to sort a mess out?”

     “OK Sir Brian!”

  A short time later two security men entered the office and escorted Jack Smithers off the premises.

  “Sir Brian’s parting words were, “Never try to wriggle out of a mess with blackmail Smithers!”


Copyright  © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved