Her last words were, “how can we expect righteousness to prevail when there is hardly anyone willing to give himself up individually to a righteous cause? Such a fine sunny day, and I have to go, but what does my death matter, if through us thousands of people are awakened and stirred to action?”
I’ve written this piece to be included in a charity book, for the “Black Dog Institute” here in Australia. The book is to be called, “My Lost Sock”, and every story in the charity book will be an anecdote about “My Lost Sock”. The Black Dog Institute, is a not-for-profit facility for diagnosis, treatment and prevention of Depression and Bipolar disorder.
My Lost Sock
A Christmas Story
I’m a hand knitted woollen sock.
Here’s my story from year dot.
In the beginning.
I started as a piece of spinning.
The wool off a sheep’s back.
An odd colour of brownie-black.
Being spun into dark twines.
On a wheel from olden times.
Craftily hand knitted.
Lovingly, soon to be gifted.
There were two of us.
We were like knitted twins.
Righty and Lefty.
And of course I’m Righty.
Our gorgeous red-haired spinner and knitter.
Had dutifully finished.
Cheerfully folded and wrapped.
In colourful paper and flower strap.
A fabulous Christmas present.
For her husband’s aged parent.
Soon it was Christmas day.
Everyone’s jolly, merry and gay.
Drinking red wine, local Cabernet.
Eating fish, caught in a nearby bay.
And presents opening time began.
Families smiled and sang.
We’re sitting on Pop’s lap.
Gently and slowly unwrapped.
Pop proudly exclaims and holds us up.
“Look here, see what I’ve got”.
Suddenly Pop throws Lefty into the corner.
And I’m left dangling like “Little Jack Horner”
There’s much laughter and jokes.
Kids come over and give me a friendly poke.
Poor discarded Lefty, on the floor with no folks.
While I’m up here being kindly stroked.
There’s more giggles, they’re all staring at me.
Pop’s grinning from ear to ear.
Wriggling in his wheelchair to loud cheers.
Oh, my discovery, Pop’s left leg’s missing below his knee.
Thank you to all of my followers who have made this possible!
I started this blog in October 2017 and as of today, I have reached 900+ followers!
This is such a huge accomplishment for me! I want to give a special shout out to those followers who I engage with every week! So to those who are regularly stopping by, liking, and leaving a comment, (you know who you are):
Thank you! Thank you! THANK YOU!
Now, that I’ve hit the 900s, I want to host my first-ever Giveaway! That’s right, I’m going to reach for the stars and attempt to hit that 1,000 mark! Here’s how it will work!
Giveaway Prize:
In keeping with my love of The Hunger Games trilogy, I will be mailing out a brand new box-set, containing all three books to the winner of this Giveaway! This box set includes The Hunger Games, Catching…
Welcome back to The Sandbox Writing Challenge! This week’s challenge MAY be an easy one for you, but maybe NOT! We’ve already touched on what makes us unique, but now we’d like to know what it is about you or that you do that makes you stand out from those around you? It’s hard for some of us to give ourselves the kudos we truly deserve, so here’s your chance to do just that. (And we all LOVE you, so go for it with gusto!) Don’t hold back now!
`
Now tell us, please, what makes you… SHINE…
I Do Thee Shine
When I was little and young.
“Your heart will always shine” Said Mum.
When I grew up, a know-all teenager.
Head strong, and an all-night rager.
“Your love of life will shine through” Said Dad.
Later on I married, so happy and glad.
Suddenly, one spring, MS touched her bad.
The shining dulled and time turned sad.
Dad said, “Your heart shone through”.
And Mum said, “Her Star will always shine on you”.
An awesome thankyou to Slasher Monster Magazine for publishing my gurgling words, and thanks to Poet Rummager for her spectacular artwork. There’s always lots of fascinating reading in “SMM”
It was the fourth of July
The party seems to be finished
Wondering how long I dozed off for
Most of my friends have gone
A few bodies left, laying on the floor
Best I have a piss before I go
Now where’s that bathroom
Whoops, there’s a girl in here
Dressed all in blue, and she’s on the floor
Slouched in the corner, not moving
Her skins “a whiter shade of pale” *
Red lip-stick all askew
Then I see myself in the mirror
Agape, my white shirt’s moist and filthy
Splattered, deep dark red
Oh no ! It’s human blood
I turn the crumpled girl over
Her pretty blue dress, covered in blood too
What’s happened, I can’t remember
Only blurry images of red white and blue
My mind goes numb
And my legs start running
Out of here in a hurry
“Thump”, I trip over
I thought that bloke was asleep
I didn’t notice at first
His red shirt’s also oozing out blood
Holy hell, he’s dead too
I’m stumbling through the front door
Grappling, panicking, now where
Where do I flee to.
Think ! Yes, a nearby Church
Has an early dawn service
A sanctuary for my burning fears
And bumbling into the Church I go
Settling upon the nearest pew
I’m white as a ghost and turn to see who’s beside me
An eerily stunning red-haired girl
Wearing a dress of red white and blue
Memory flashes back, it’s Her, from the party
She’s staring at me now, with livid red and white eyes
I see fangs protruding over her blue lips
Dribbling fresh blood, hissing at me
She gurgles, “Did I miss one”
The Filia Sanguine suddenly grabs my arm
And her dark-blue fingernails dig deep
I’m seized, I’m gone, I know
There’s no safe haven here
“Where do you go to my lovely”**
Screaming tears of red white and blue
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
* A Whiter Shade Of Pale, Procol Hurum song Title 1967.
**Where Do You Go To My Lovely, Peter Sarstedt song Title 1969