I'm All For Fairytales

 

And this dainty maiden caught my attention today, thanks to Susan at Stony River, who gave us the picture so's we could produce witty offerings of 140 characters (or fewer, if we're lucky!) for her Microfiction Monday #72. Here's one as sweet as any you'll find, I'll be bound...

Cinderella told me Prince Charming's footwear was less than savoury! I hope this puff of magic, deodorising powder solves his problem.

Puzzling People

Willow set a puzzle for this week's Magpie Tales #54,

which made me think of Ada and Caddoc - the most puzzling

people I have ever met!
(Click on their names if you missed their latest story!)


A Tribute From Trellissimo

How like a jigsaw puzzle, my two friends!
Their lives forever link and break apart,
though each without the other is but half
a whole person. At life's very heart
they have found a place of truce, a private
world within whose margins squabbles cease.
They meet on equal terms, and so together
may explore the advantages of peace-
ful existence. Minor altercations
split the surface of their lives, it's true
but they learned to bend and flex
when volatile earth tremors threatened to
engulf those castles built in air
by this ill assorted, perfect pair.

Have We Missed The Bus?

Ill Met In Amber

Like we two, these ants
are fencing face to face...
How similar we are,
an ill assorted brace.

Could we melt the resin
that keeps couples apart
just out of kissing distance
Ada, my dearest heart?

See! One ant is jumping.
He's keen to reach her arms.
All his insect instincts
have fallen for her charms.

Those two can no more move;
they're frozen fast in time.
But we, through care and love,
can make our hearts entwine.

120 Socks is driving The Poetry Bus this week - are we too late for tickets?!

Too late for tickets? Oh, my!  Thank goodness I, Ada have learned how to sabotage one of Caddoc's posts, in order to give MY side of the story!

Caddoc, will you never learn, my man?
Like the formic acid ants dispense,
all this talk of kissing distance stings
my acerbic wit, and makes but little sense.

Insect instincts are not ones I know
well, for in the main, all of mine agree
it's best to keep your eager arms at bay,
not let them close enough to reach for me!

For then I too, might end up trapped within
your sugar syrup words, with no escape,
like the ants entombed in amber resin!
The very prospect sets my mouth agape... 

A Day For Romance

This illustration provided by Susan at Stony River, was supposed to inspire Bloggers to write a succinct caption, in 140 characters or less, for her Microfiction Monday prompt. But I was feeling loquacious, and this was the result - sorry, Susan  I promise to do better next time.!*Scroll on down!

When Ada suggested a picnic (years ago, one Spring)
I little thought I'd get left out...But I sat there, pondering,
while naughty Ada and a beau started to get pally,
and her next door neighbours, Johnathan and Sally,
calmly read their magazine, oblivious to all;
the hills and vales held no allure. But I was held in thrall
from that point on, dear reader, by Ada's fulsome charms...
and couldn't wait until the time I'd hold her in my arms
as we glided round the dance floor at the local tuppenny hop,
The beau was soon discarded, for she didn't care a jot
for his rather lovesick gaze - she liked her men more manly!.
And so it was dear Ada soon put paid to weedy Stanley
and went for Caddoc's muscles. Do I rue the day?
Of course I don't you sillies! I'd have it no other way! 

Happy Valentine's Day, Beloved! 

*But wait - here's a late edition MFM, just for Susan!
Keep still - there's an ant creeping inside your shirt! Watch it! He might be heading towards your pants! 

Poetry Bus 14th February

More and more I am turning my hand to poetry, now that I have given up playing the saxophone to please my Beloved.  I notice three picture prompts on this week's Poetry Bus Blog. The driver is Dana Bug. So here is my effort, based on  -

Caddoc Laments

Unless your journey is essential
don't go in snow. That's really mental,
as I learned last month to my cost.
I drove my chair out in the frost
and snow. I'd castored barely half a mile
before I had a nasty pile-
up on a smooth and snowy lot.
But what had shunted me was not
a drop-head easy chair like mine.
It was some drug-fuelled careless swine
driving a souped-up two-seat sofa
at sledging speeds. He was no loafer.

We leapt out, slammed out doors and faced
each other in the frozen waste,
blamed each other, as drivers will
for causing this upholstered spill.
"Why don't you look where you are going?"
"You jerk! You might have thought of slowing!"
"That chair ain't built for snow like this!"
"A box of rust your settee is!"
"Go-faster stripes! Outdated curves - "
"A write-off's what your heap deserves!"

Just then we spotted blue lights flashing
beyond the trees, saw cop-chairs dashing
towards us through the wintry snow.
We said "The time has come to go."
We fired our motors. Just our luck!
Our furnitures were firmly stuck
together by interlocking springs
protruding through their horse-hair wings.

The SWAT team circled. Bull-horns roared.
I thought "That's going overboard!
I set out for a winter drive.
I'd like to get back home alive
and not end up a bullet-blocker."

Next time I'll drive dear Ada's rocker.

"I'll Be Back!"

Sometimes Dame Fortune lends a helping hand!  This week's prompt from Willow Manor for Magpie Tales#52 is a picture of the very house where the Police are holding Caddoc Trellis incommunicado.  So . .  Trellissimo to the rescue!

Scene:   The front desk of a police hideout deep in the Abergele hinterlands.

Enter:   Terminator Trellissimo, stripped to the waist and brandishing an AK47.  He has several belts of ammunition looped round his immensely broad shoulders and 3 or 4 Glock pistols in his waistband.  He walks as if he has long Samurai swords down both pant legs, which indeed he has.

Desk Sergeant: "Goodmorning, can I help you, sir?"

Trell: This whole thing's really most unfair! I think you're holding my friend Cad. That's really very, very sad. That kinda makes me really mad, 'cos what he did was not so bad.

Sergeant:  My Gawd!  You rhyme like Doctor Seuss! Cad loitered 'neath the Town Square clock! We lifted him. He turned quite puce. We thought that he might run amok. That's why we've got him in the dock.

Trell gazes tenderly at his AK47

Trell: You know what this is, Mister Copper? Trell's highly lethal baddy-stopper. Just watch that you don't come a cropper. Now, bring forth Ada's floor-tile mopper!

Sergeant: Don't threaten me, you muscled creep! The swinish Cad's in dungeon deep. He sowed crime's wind! Whirlwind he'll reap! (Pause) Your rhyming crimes make Willow weep.

Trell: Sergeant, my mood is turning black. I will not cut you much more slack. Stand-off becomes all-out attack - (With Austrian accent -) I'LL BE BACK!

(Exit Trellissimo)

Sergeant: Who was that guy festooned with arms, quite lacking any manly charms, reject from a body-building farm, and threatening me with G.B harm?

(Enter, splintering the door, a Humvee driven by Trell, a maniacal light in his eyes. Smashes into desk. Trell leaps out.  Fires several bursts from AK47 into the ceiling)

Trell:  Now please hand over my friend Caddoc before I slice you like a haddock, and lest your plight gets any worse - stop slagging off my Magpie verse! So . . follow me, you horrid man. I'll lock you in poor Caddoc's can.

(Quaking, Sergeant hands keys to Trell and points down corridor. Exit Trell down the corridor prodding Sergeant along with muzzle of the AK47. He reappears a few moment later with one arm round Caddoc Trellis's shoulders)

Trell. I love Cad like he was my twin. He has no business being in this hell-hole deep in bosky wood.

Now he is freed, as well he should  be. His happy smile says all now well is, as home he trots to Mrs.Trellis, while I, the hero of North Wales will read more Magpie Birthday Tales.(*)

(*) This Magpie comes to us on the anniversary of Tess Kincaid's first Magpie prompt. Raise your glasses, folks!  'Nuff said.

Microfiction Monday #69

Susan at Stony River challenges us to construct a story/poem around this picture prompt, but in no more than 140 characters.

"Officer - have you seen my Caddoc? Wrinkly. Silly brown hat. I should have met him at 2."

"We lifted him at half past, Mrs.T. For loitering"

(140 characters . . I hope)

Slings And Arrows?

Stafford Ray! What a stroke of genius! A new board game for the terminally bored! After reading these words of yours:-

"I had to block the Trellis blog from the kiddies after this! Shame, they used to use Ada's photo as a darts board!"

which you left left on Ada's Monday's Child post, it set me thinking. Here is my prototype for a brand new game, Triple Daft Darts. Be carefull, when playing, not to confuse Bullseyes with Bulls**t...

Every Dog Has His Day

A hang dog expression is one I know well,
when I'm in the dog-house. Ada could tell
you, if she wanted to, I'm sure
what norty capers she sends me there for!

If I tickle her fancy and give her the giggles,
she's apt to get stroppy, and possibly niggle
until I turn tail and give her a nip
by thinking up some inappropriate quip

which displeases Beloved. I'll get sent to clink
unless I can tempt her with a little drink
of frothy hot chocolate, and digestive biscuit,
and maybe a quick kiss- if I dare risk it!

The pathway to romance is often a stony one,
and in that department, I can't be the only one
who's happy to take the rough with the 'smoove',
for the sake of the person they've chosen to 'loove'.

N.B.Alan and Kat at Sepia Saturday are used to seeing all kinds of old photographs, but how about this fine fellow who was sitting disconsolately amongst the Google images, waiting to be discovered? I couldn't resist using him as a prompt for some more Trellis Teasing!

Monday's Child #31

Monday's Child (alias bkm) offers this charming prompt of two little angels heading up the Wooden Hill to Bedfordshire

Unhappily, there's a shortage of angels in Abergele.

Bedtime Story.

What an angelic little lad!

Reminds me of my husband Cad.

Just watch me lure him up the stair

and pin him in my bedroom lair.

I'll kid him that his Little Ted

will eat him in his ground-floor bed,

so best he comes upstairs with me,

for Husband Caddoc, don't you see

your wooden horsey cannot climb

a staircase. We'll escape in time!

Monday's my weekly pram-raid night

Caddoc, and I'm a frisky sprite!
My hike last week through winter's snow
has left me feeling all aglow.
And what to say about your brandy?
It makes me feel I rhyme with handy!

Do not be fooled by white night-shirty.

When we're alone, it's down-and-dirty.

(You can read more child-friendly entries by following the link to Monday's Child, or for another grown up version, not unlike my own, I've spotted one here, too!)

Ada, Beloved, I have just come downstairs to find you have left yurself logged into the computer again! Think of our electricity bills! And what are you doing, broadcasting frisky details of white night-shirts to all and sundry? Spare my blushes... I may have to return after I've thought long and hard about a suitable repartee to your poetic effusion above...

Yours,

Caddoc X