Month: January 2021

I’m keeping it real,
WIth mind over what I feel.
What will it reveal?

Money has arrived,
Not much but it has arrived,
Now to spend it all.

Some chocolate bars,
Some chocolate digestives,
And a mister Tom.

It’s been a hard week,
The days are filled, with no rest,
Or time for your lunch.

Denmark’s calling me,
To join their tunnelling team,
That’s interesting.

How are tunnels built?
Dig longitudinally,
In a big machine.

Back to those biscuits,
Nice chocolate digestives,
Straight out of the fridge.

He look around him,
A few berries and some roots,
It was just enough.

The sun was rising,
High and hot into the sky,
Making things go hide.

The gold was in holes,
Just on old shirt as a bag,
He dumped them in holes.

He put about half,
A lot of gold in the shirt,
To limit its weight.

The path to the plain,
Or plateau, was up and down,
With thick forest growth.

Some rocky outcrops,
Within the forest looked good,
As a hiding place.

He had taken three,
Shirtfuls to this location,
When he had to stop.

He had heard a shot,
He made his way to loook out,
From the cliff top edge.

Below was a ship,
Anchored just off the shore line,
On shore a small boat.

A large man barked out,
Get a move on, move it scum,
He waved a pistol.

Some others took stuff,
Into the cave in boxes,
They didn’t come out,

There were some shots fired,
And two men came out the cave,
Carrrying a box.

Maybe a gold box,
Now filled with sand, did they know?
They got in the boat,

They rowed to the ship,
Hauling the box up to the deck,
But was not opened.

Loser Bumhole Bump,
Has lost his house for good now,
And helicopter.

Gorgia’s not a friend,
That’s at least not for today ,
She thinks he’s had it.

That’s enough nonsense,
And enough twits on Twitter,
Maybe he will stop.

A pensive person,
Finally stood up today,
To do the right thing.

Time is slipping by,
Don’t watch it go and don’t cry,
Use the time you have.

I’m counting pennies,
Piling them high as I can,
Until they’re knocked down.

From back in the trees,
He saw a distance glinting,
A spyglass maybe.

He couldn’t get caught,
For he can’t trust anyone now,
So he got down low.

He watched and listened,
Biding his time laying there,
And waiting for what?

Soon the darkness fell,
And the sound of his breathing,
Seem the only sound,

Then something called out,
Arwaaarck, Arwaaarck, what was it,
Could be birds or men.

A cold sweat soaked him,
And he shivered with it,
Trying to keep still.

Arwaack and movement,
High in the trees above him,
And there a large bird.

Still he couldn’t move,
And so he lay there listening,
Until sleep took him.

He woke in the night,
A full moon lit the foreground,
Making it eerie.

He listend again,
Hearing his own heart pounding,
And wind in the trees.

He was soon asleep,
And woke with dawn and silence,
And went back to base.

He checked all around,
It was all there and hidden,
Now to find some food.

Updating the site,
And I was busy writing,
And zees fill the page.

I had fell asleep,
My finger on the zed key,
Writing it all down.

My eyes are heavy,
A little sleep comes easy,
Ev’ry now and then.

The road are wet now,
The rain has stopped, not the cars,
They go swishing by.

I pause for awhile,
Closing my eyes to feel it,
That great heaviness.

This was an island,
The maps showed nine in a line,
Before the storm hit.

So, this must be one,
Only two are inhabited,
The rest are untouched.

He needed some food,
He was feeling very weak,
From lugging the gold.

How could he explore,
How would he find his way back,
There was a reason.

He climbed up a tree,
To look out to see something,
He could reference,

A hill or a stream,
Something he could find again,
When he headed back.

He couldn’t see much,
But not far was a clearing,
That was east of him.

He set off to it,
Being careful to walk straight,
As far as he could.

When he got to it,
He found a stream running there,
And this pleased him much.

He then realised,,
That this was a small plateau.
And huge rocks rose up.

He now felt exposed,
And looked for somewhere to hide,
Back in the tree line.

Back to work’s a chore,
The meetings are a long bore,
Not sure I want more.

I took a drive out,
And of course came back again,
With a loaf of bread.

The dog pooh outside,
Has now be trodden about,
What a smelly mess.

I am feeling tired.
I fell asleep this evening,
Watching the TV.

He tried to keep watch,
But work had exhausted him,
Soon he was asleep.

He woke with the sun,
Early morning and still cool,
His body aching.

Around him were piles,
Piles of gold coins covered up,
With dirt and some leaves.

He looked up the cliff,
And thought that he must try it,
And climb to the top.

First he got water,
Checking the cave was still safe.
It was and he left.

He began to climb,
And routes opened up to him,
With ledges and grips.

Soon he reached the top,
And looked down along the shore,
It was looking clear.

He feared their returned,
Those that had buried the gold,
That must come back soon.

He carried it up,
Making about thirty trips,
And fell exhausted.

At the top were trees,
And some good hiding places,
And there he rested.

The land all around,
Looked like untouched native land,
Mostly all forest.

His sleep was restful,
And again woke with the dawn,
And looked out again.

The sea was clear blue,
And a cloudless sky above,
Without any wind.

He found a fresh spring,
Further into the forest,
This tasted so good.

Well it has began,
The sun is shining today,
And people are out.

I have got my plans,
To get things done and started,
Yes, a few new things.

And the Seaward Tale,
Is progressing well, I think,
And does have an end.,

I have the sniffles,
Maybe a cold has got me,
It is winter time.

I’m starting afresh,
My office is re-arranged,
And now has four seats.

There’s a comfy chair,
Two stools and an office chair,
It seems to sit well.

With a lighted rag,
And an armful of driftwood,
He entered the cave.

He could see better,
The pile of stones, the corpses.
And an old fire pit.

He threw in the wood,
And thrust in the lighted rags.
Slowly the fire caught.

Six bodies lay there,
Scattered around the fire pit,
Where they were slaughtered.

He devised a plan,
To take the treasure boxes,
Outside to empty,

Then refill with sand,
And bring them back to re-bury,
One by one that is.

He unearthed the first,
And heaved it on his shoulder,
And took it outside.

He came back with it,
Filled with sand and some more wood,
To keep the fire lit.

He reburied it,
Then searched for any others,
And found seven more.

One by one they went,
Out and back, into the ground,
Until all were done.

He looked around,
And then brushed the ground level,
Hiding his footprints.

It was getting dark,
The sun was now setting fast,
As he dowsed the fire.

The tide was far out.
There was a serene feeling,
With the evening light.

At the hideaway,
Around and up the cliff face,
Through a tiny slit.

In the cliff rock face,
To a small ravine and here,
Where he could be safe.

At midnight he woke,
The tide was high and close by,
It lapped the cliff face.