Sunday, August 18, 2019

a foggy day

by horace p sternwall

as i walking to london town
i met a hangman and a clown
the clown was dressed in somber style
the hangman wore a happy smile

i asked the hangman for a dime
he paused, and took his own sweet time
who are you, he cheerfully asked
that i should favor you with cash?

i am a creature, sad and forlorn
who never requested to be born
around my neck are no silk scarves
all i wish is not to starve

the hangman nodded and replied
you have opened my eyes wide
i will wipe the smile from off my face
and make the world a better place

with that the hangman disappeared
as the clouds above me leered
the clown and i were left alone
and he was looking at his phone

whatever he saw there did not seem
to wake him from his dolourous dream
i left him and went on my way
what was his fate, i can not say

on a foggy day in london town
a beggar put a payment down
on a castle beside an apple tree
o how i wish that it were me

the beggar, the castle, or the tree
i would be any of the three
the beggar sleeps within the walls
and from the tree an apple falls

Wednesday, August 14, 2019

house of horrors

by emily de villaincourt

it is a lovely day, isn’t it, beverly?”

“yes, it is, aunt mona. and it would be an even lovelier one if some kind gentleman were to come along and offer to marry me, and rescue me from this house of horrors.”

“house of horrors!” aunt mona laughed. “really, my dear, you are so dramatic at times!”

that evening at dinner, aunt mona reported beverly’s remark about living in a house of horrors, much to the amusement of the entire company, who kept repeating it with humorous variations right up until the gentlemen retired to the lounge.

what a treacherous old cow aunt mona is, beverly reflected.

she resolved never to trust another human being again.