Ok so holiday is now over as jet lag is passing lots of things have happened, some may appear here some may not, and brothers will join cults they had previously they would not. So have things changed who knows all that remains is to complete the challenge.
PAUSE OFF!
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Currently the laptop is backing up my old SD cards from Japan etc.
So for today’s creative works…
He followed the Sergeant down the stairs into the cellar, there were more officers in the cellar counting the marjoram plants. But the Sergeant lead him to the far end of the cellar. The was a small door that had four padlocked bolts on either side of the door, a PC was trying to hack saw the bolts off he gad managed to get through 8 but there was stll 8 more to remove.
“Have we not got a crowbar or something else to jemmy the locks off?” Ask Schaw.
The sergeant ran upztars to the longe were he had remembered seeing one.He reappeared with it in his hand and set too one the final 7.
The crowbar made short work of the remaining padlocks, the door was pulled open. To reveal a set of old stone steps leading down in to a dark passage way. Schaw flicked his torch off his belt, grasping it in a pical grip he pressed his thumb on the end of the torch and the 7 LEDs came on, covering the stairs in with a pearsing bright white light.
A srcream came from the stairway, the offices rushed down the stairs. At the same moment the man in the monks habit eyes flashed open, “No!” He said, and stood up.
The bombardment stopped,
The cannon was empty,
The tower still shook.
RELOAD! !,
Cannonball placed in the gapping mouth
Pushed in to it’s bowels,
The fuse lit.
BOOM!!!!
AGAIN!!
3 Days it lasted till the wall came down
But who’d have thought the tower would too!
So on Thursday, the old one from the Wrexham valley released his new book a poem one. This has been a long rumored to be almost complete think it is been in that stage for 4 years perhaps less. I do the old man a disjustice or injustice as the spellcheck is not that amazing.
As ever I digress as is my wonted custom of my blog….
So here goes
Wayne Owens’ author Bio
Drip drip drip, drip
The constant leak it will not stop
That drip drip.
Pain again as the nose is wiped
Soft tissuepaper?
Lies!
Sandpaper is more an appropriate name
Drip drip, I command you to stop!
…….
…….
DRIP argh drip drip
I am master of this temple,
My body,
I command you to stop