Wink: A Collection of Poetry and Short Stories

By Yendole Yendole

The poetry and stories in section 1 are from Families published separately in conjunction with Writershed, the Women Writers Workshop, a group Kay founded in 2011, now on Amazon and Kindle. The other stories are a selection from new projects Kay is working on. The Spinster is an extract from her biography of her mothers life. The Snowchild is an extract from her childrens book Joshuas Globe. Kay hopes to complete these projects in the near future as well as help the Writershed group to put together their second book. The best seller is still a long way in the future, and Kay has no illusions about how tough it is to get started as a writer. But one word of advice she can give to all those budding writers out there is to write every day and make writing part of your life as that book inside you will never happen just talking about it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Jul 10, 2012
• ISBN: 9781468582123

Yendole Yendole

Cofounder of Writershed, Kay is a retired teacher who at last has found time to write. Kay hopes to write more poetry, stories, play scripts, murder mysteries, and biographies of family members if they let her! She has already published one life story and some travel blogs but not for general sale, but you can read her travel blog on Travelpod.com, where she writes about her round-the-world trip and French experience. Happily married and with two daughters and six grandchildren, Kay feels she has a lot to write about and has enjoyed putting this book together. WinK is a name Kay devised for her murder mystery writing that she has done for Thresholds, Women’s Institutes corporate functions, Carefree rallies, and Weybridge Mariner’s Club. The poetry and stories in section 1 are from Families published separately in conjunction with Writershed, the Women Writers Workshop, a group Kay founded in 2011, now on Amazon and Kindle. The other stories are a selection from new projects Kay is working on. “The Spinster” is an extract from her biography of her mother’s life. “The Snowchild” is an extract from her children’s book Joshua’s Globe. Kay hopes to complete these projects in the near future as well as help the Writershed group to put together their second book. The best seller is still a long way in the future, and Kay has no illusions about how tough it is to get started as a writer. But one word of advice she can give to all those budding writers out there is to “write every day and make writing part of your life as that book inside you will never happen just talking about it.”

Book preview

© 2012 by Kay Yendole. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 07/05/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4685-8211-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4685-8212-3 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Section One

Families

I Carn’t!’

The Imaginary Friend

Trekking with Llamas

Topping Out

The Room

My Garden is My Family

The Rings—Mother’s Ring

The Ring 2

African Grey

Bilbo and the Bacon Butties

Breaststroke

Co-incidence

A communion with nature

And All that Jazz by Kay Yendole

Life in the Old Girl Yet

Retirement

Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered am I

Section Two

Etc; Etc; Etc;

The Spinster

The Arrangement

Californian Muesli

The Snowchild

The Mariners Murder

The Breakdown

The Biscuit Tin

A Souvenir of Wimbledon

Joshua’s Globe: The Singing Wolf and the Dancing Bear

Section One

Families

I Carn’t!’

‘Do your laces up John’

‘I carn’t!’

‘There’s no such word as carn’t John’

‘but I carn’t’

‘Of course you can, just try John’

‘Well I tried and I tried

but I carn’t

do my laces up, I really carn’t’

‘There’s no such word as carn’t John,

Right over left, that’s right

Now under and through the loop

It’s easy when you try John’

‘Right over left then under

make a loop each side’

‘I carn’t’

‘There’s no such word as carn’t John

Try harder John

Right over left and under

Then pull there you’ve done it John’

‘Oh yes I have . . . look

I’ve tied my laces . . . . I can!’

The Imaginary Friend

No need for toys

That plastic rubbish

Taking up space, messing my room.

I want more time

To play out of doors

There is my horse, I am the groom.

I play for hours

Galloping across the downs and jumps.

It’s mane a rope

But the saddle’s real

Its body built from boxes and trunks.

I talk to him

My stallion friend

In my mind my fantasy will never end.

I urge him on

From trot to canter

I stroke his neck, his breath I feel.

Together we ride

Over hedges and fields

I want this game to never end.

So don’t buy me toys

Mother can’t you see

My imagination is good enough for me.

Trekking with Llamas

You’re growing up so fast ; I miss you

I miss the way we used to all read in bed together, us three

Eating biscuits ; you had milkshake, I drank tea.

I miss the walks in the woods, collecting bugs, imagining finding Tigger and Pooh

and Piglet and Roo.

And Pooh sticks from the bridge we used to play

by the stream down the lane.

I miss the baking of cakes and playing at opening the Frog Cafe.

Plasticine and painting of castles and kites,

make believe, dressing up as princesses and knights.

The teenage years have taken you away from me

Into the world of i-pods and music I’ve not heard.

We’ve lost the art of conversation, you seldom speak a word.

I desperately look for things that you’d enjoy

Last year ‘Go Ape’ swinging through the trees

Colin nearly seventy is acting like a boy!

This year we thought we’ve surely truly found

something different and exciting to keep you wanting to come round

We kept it secret, a mystery adventure

But still worried, would you like it? we weren’t sure

Every picture tells a story so they say and

by the look of the smile on your face it would seem.

It was a success we’ve regained for a while at least the old bond

through trekking with Llamas in the Forest of Dean.

Topping Out

After the flood, the tears, the damage done

Light rain fell in shallow puddles

Pools of water reflecting sombre skies

Benevolence compensated no sun in his smile

He lifted me up out of the mud

‘You shall be the foundation of my new life

The pillar of strength in my hour of need’

He said and like ‘Bricklok’ we joined together

The exact fit, we needed each other to become one whole

We locked together the perfect match.

No more cold abstract soul-less strangeness

No more remorseless uniformity of style

but curves of softness in our symmetry

But still strong and impenetrable as clay.

Together we are building a new life

One that leaves the rubble and ruins behind

Our structure is fresh and new

It lets in light, hardly a brick to be seen

The strength is inside in the being

Of my man

My brick.

The Room

The dining room door opens into a light filled lounge. Three walls of the room have large windows that let in maximum light from the east, south and westerly points. Mirrors and glass reflect the light again and it has the feel of a conservatory about it, without a single plant inside, the garden is clearly visible and feels like part of the room.

Mottled natural shades of brown and cream are in the carpet and sofas and small oak carved tables and cabinet housing crystal. The inevitable T.V. video; DVD and music centre are not obtrusive. The eyes are