Interlude – A Dash of Sunny Prompt Night


‘to sleep, perchance to dream’

– about all the things I want to do

‘aye, there’s the rub,

for in that sleep of death,

what dreams may come’

– after i’ve done all the things I need to do

‘but, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?

it is the east and Juliet is the sun’

rays streaming down on

– the books to read

– the pen to scribe with

– the paints, the pencils

– the image I am desperate, so desperate

to magically transfer from my inner mind to paper

this is rest for me?

– the poem running round my head like a tantrum

– the story banging its fists on the back of my eyes

– the protagonist telling me I’ve got her clothes all wrong and

WTF?! that’s not the car she’d drive and

WTF?! she’d never say WTF?!

this is rest for me?

why, yes.

this is rest for me.

it feeds my soul.


Here’s my entry into A Dash of Sunny’s ‘On Popular Demand’ series of Prompt Nights. I’m new to Sunny’s prompts and blog, so this is my first ‘On Popular Demand’ entry!

I had real fun writing this… Picture this, it’s Saturday morning, I’m sitting on the sofa half-watching a new favourite YouTube channel by a Chilean illustrator, Frannerd, I’m in my dressing gown and slippers, sipping coffee and rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Glamour puss I am most definitely not! And here’s Sunny’s prompt which perfectly reflects my Saturday morning mindset.

Don’t get me wrong, I can sit around and do nothing – but not for too long. I have an urge to create, or read others’ creativity, watch and learn about how to be creative… You know how it goes.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy my unrestful poem about rest – my kind of rest! Do head on over to Sunny’s place, have a read, be inspired, take part – you know you want to!

Like sweet bells jangled – Magpie Tales

waterhouse john william sweet-summer-1912

Sweet Summer, 1912, John William Waterhouse

Ophelia is waiting for her lover in the sultry summer sun.

For him, she has shunned her family and cast aside her morals, her instincts and above all, her better judgement.

The garden appears to be sheltered and obscured from the view of passers-by. However there is a place in the wall where, if you place your eye just so, you will be rewarded with the full spectacle of the fountain, the camellias, the lawn and anyone who cares to rest within.

Ophelia knows this and she also knows who else knows this. Isn’t this hidden gem where the lords and ladies of the kingdom, inflamed with their desires and wants, their peccadillos, flock to catch a glimpse of their hearts’ desires?

She can feel the heat of them, these eyes. She can imagine the carefully plucked eyebrows rising in shock to see her, the future king’s potential wife, lying here in such disarray.

She is imprudent with desire. It will take very little to tip her over into the sweet, dark abyss.

To her at least, in this moment, it will be worth it.


Here’s my latest entry to Magpie Tales. Waterhouse is another one of my favourite artists, along with Millais. This painting to me is reminiscent of Waterhouse’s Ophelia, so I was drawn to writing about the tragic young noblewoman who took her own life in Shakespeare’s Hamlet. A great deal of poetic licence has been taken, of course.

I hope you enjoy it, and that the sense of madness comes through.

The title ‘Like sweet bells jangled’, comes from Ophelia’s speech when she is fretting on Hamlet’s seeming loss of mind:

“Oh, what a noble mind is here o’erthrown!—
The courtier’s, soldier’s, scholar’s, eye, tongue, sword,
Th’ expectancy and rose of the fair state,
The glass of fashion and the mould of form,
Th’ observed of all observers, quite, quite down!
And I, of ladies most deject and wretched,
That sucked the honey of his music vows,
Now see that noble and most sovereign reason
Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh;
That unmatched form and feature of blown youth
Blasted with ecstasy. Oh, woe is me,
T’ have seen what I have seen, see what I see!”

magpie tales statue stamp 185

Talking Head

How shall I find the strength to chase my joy,

this passion that sets light to every hour?

Mundanity serves only to annoy,

turning my face to frown and darkling glower.

In days gone by, I dreamed, to hide away

in attics, writing, high above the throng,

romantic thoughts which, in the light of day

then fizzled out. How could I be so wrong?

To think that I could write, that old refrain.

A proper job is what you need, that’s right!

The voice inside my head inflicted pain,

and negativity took hold, turned hope to fright.

But I have fought right back, doubt shall not win!

This writer’s heart beats strongly, deep within.


I’m a little late, taking part in Tony’s dVerse Meeting the Bar challenge this week. Yesterday I travelled to deepest, darkest Wales to stay with my best friend and fellow (non-writing) creative. My long train journey has offered up many fresh pieces of flesh for my notebook, I can assure you!

So here I am in the bird-tweeting and sheep-baaing countryside, finally getting to Tony’s challenge, which is to write a sonnet. As you will see, I have chosen Shakespeare’s favourite rhyming pattern, given that I was born in the Midlands (the only thing I have in common with the great Bard!).

Thank you to Jo-hanna for her comment on line three – I switched ‘serves’ and ‘only’ around, and it reads much better now!

I hope you enjoy it – please do visit dVerse and see how the other poets have tackled this juicy treat!