London Calling – dVerse


London skyline, change unceasing
Altitudes aspire, increasing
Reaching scudding clouds suspended
Your city’s tale has not yet ended

London skyline, change unceasing
Skyscrapers empty, workers releasing
Easing on to pavements, thronging
Each mind alone, yet still belonging

London skyline, change unceasing
Parks reducing, space decreasing
Many cultures, smells and tastes
A never-resting, human race

London skyline, your heart’s still beating
London skyline, change unceasing.


This week, on dVerse Meeting the Bar,Tony has asked us to repeat, repeat, repeat – whether it’s a word, a phrase or a whole line. Let’s get the musicality going!

I haven’t aimed for a particular form, although if I hadn’t submitted a villanelle to a competition, I would have shared it right here, because it is, by it’s nature, a musical, repetitive piece. Hey ho. So, ‘London Calling’ is inspired by my place of work and by the wheels going round on my train journey home. I hope you enjoy.

Please pop over to dVerse to read some excellent poems on the travel theme. Join in – we don’t bite!



Blowout – Friday Fictioneers

Here is my latest entry into the weekly challenge brought to us by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

Here are the rules: Use the photo as inspiration, write a hundred(ish) words – and share! Here goes my offering for this week – and I welcome your comments again!


Copyright – Douglas M. MacIlroy

– Blowout –

You’ll damage your eyesight, watching TV in the dark.

That’s what Mum used to say. She would turn the living room light on and destroy my fantasy hideaway.

Mum’s gone now, they all are. I am forced to make a choice. Should I use what little power I have managed to conserve on light, or on connecting with the outside world?

Candles it is.

I shiver, pulling my blanket close, cold fingers rasping against the harsh fibres. The gales are nearing hurricane force again tonight, the wind turbines have been shut down for weeks.

So much for a cozy hideaway.


Click on the blue froggy below to read others’ offerings!

Over and Out – Sunday Photo Fiction


Shoes. I hadn’t seen a pair for years, not proper, shop-bought, complete shoes that had a hope of keeping your feet dry.

I remember the patent red pair that Mum had bought me as a little girl. I had loved those shoes, loved how they reminded me of cherries. I could barely remember the taste of any fruit, not any more. Yet still my mouth watered at the thought.

I shielded my eyes from the fierce sun as the shoes danced back and forth, tantalizingly. I bet the wires from which the shoes dangled hadn’t carried messages for a decade.

My feet ached for those shoes. I had made up my mind to retrieve them when a rogue cloud covered the sun. The land around me lost its bleach and I saw that the hillock on the ground was more sinister. It was the remains of a man, long dead, his arm reaching up in a last attempt to gain his prize.

This was a trap. No doubt there were live wires buried in the telegraph pole, ready to pass on their own message to us rebels. We will kill you all.

Not me, not today, I thought.


Here’s my latest entry into Alistair’s Sunday Photo Fiction. He supplies us with his own wonderful photos, so deserves our support! Happy Sunday, all….

Do take part if you have time, or just pop over and read the other entries.