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This above all; to thine own self be true. 
William Shakespeare

Plea from a Kidney

6/2/2015

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Imagine Part Of Your Body Has A Voice

1)     Decide on a particular part of your body and imagine it has a voice - what do you think it would have to say for itself - humorous or sensible - your foot, your mouth, your ear, your head, etc.

Your piece of writing might include detailed description, facts, names and technical details. Or just Imagine it can tell us about itself and what it feels like to be it.
Picture
Plea from a Kidney
by Margaret Yeo


Oh why doesn’t she listen
to what they say?
And drink more water.

I know you say you do 
be it tap, spring or even tea.
But it’s not enough
How do you expect me to function
if I am dry.

If I am dry
it means the rest of your body
is screaming for more
I cannot work without resources

You well know that you
would feel so much better
your joints more supple
you might even lose that excess flab.

I may appear small and insignificant
but I am vital to your existence;  
If I fail, your life is no more.
Please please Drink more


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Copyright (c) ~ Written by Margaret Yeo ~ All rights reserved
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IN AWE OF CUCUMBER SANDWICHES

13/1/2015

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IN AWE OF CUCUMBER SANDWICHES
by Margaret Yeo

Two young teenagers
not quite sure exactly how old we were,
staying with my friend’s Aunt
in a sleepy, leafy Kent village.
Can't even remember how we got there.

One morning Auntie announced,
We are off to tea with my friend this afternoon.
Try to be polite and on your best behaviour
As my friend is quite particular.

With trepidation the three of us set off down the Lane
arriving at this large intimidating Victorian house
With large chimneystacks and spiral roofs.
Something quite new in my experience.
Our hostess a very prim severe elderly lady
Her long grey hair swept up in a neat tight bun.
Like a character out of Charles Dickens.
Ushered us into the large dark parlour.

A strong smell of lavender polish, An Aspidistra in the corner
Fine lace covers on the arms and backs of the chairs
Heavy velvet curtains at the windows.
We gingerly took our seats trying not to wriggle or fidget
Looking at one another for reassurance.
Tea arrived set out on rather magnificent trolly
Covered with a fine linen cloth and matching crisp napkins. 
Delicate bone china matching tea set
Tea poured from a silver teapot through a silver strainer
Sugar lumps in a bowl complete with tongs.

Crustless thinly cut cucumber sandwiches
Rich fruit cake, mouthwatering home made jam tarts .
Too scared of dropping crumbs or spilling tea
Too much in awe of the occasion to relax and enjoy.
The memory however of tea with Miss Haversham
And her cucumber sandwiches remains with me forever.



Copyright © Written by Margaret Yeo ~ All rights reserved


Images from the Net
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Moon-time

11/1/2015

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Picture
Moon Time
by Margaret Yeo

It was that time of the month

I awoke feeling uneasy
a sense of foreboding
wanting to stay in bed
Wishing it was this time tomorrow.
Tonight is the time I dread.

I arrive at work for my late shift
all seems quiet and peaceful,
how wrong  could I be
screams and shouting
from room number six.

As I entered the room, I note
the walls splattered with a 
murky brown sludge
Mavis ranting and raving
eyes wild and staring
her once beautiful red hair now
dull, thin, knotted covering her face.

What do you call that? She manically screams
pointing a dirty plastic knife in my face
pointing to a dirty crumpled paper plate
that had once contained tonight’s supper
Hungarian Goulash.

I remain silent knowing that 
Mavis in this state is completely irrational.
She starts to ransack her bed,
a bare mattress on the floor. 
With an unknown strength
hacks at pillow and blanket tearing them to shreds. 
White feathers cascading across the room 
I press the red button.

My colleague appears with a kidney shaped dish
containing a very large syringe filled with Paraldehyde.
Sorry Mavis she says, finding her target.
Minutes later Mavis
 calm and subdued,
put in a straight jacket is at peace in the cell.

How I dread a new moon.




Copyright ©  Written by Margaret Yeo ~ All rights reserved


Picture
Image from the net ~
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Schooldays~

11/1/2015

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Written as an assignment for Sheringham Creative Writing Group

SCHOOL
by Margaret Yeo

The happiest days of your life
not in my Book

Not unhappy, just wary and uneasy.
Bullied no, but I think that was avoided
by a mutual interest in Athletics and hockey 
with the Year Bully.

How I envied the bright attractive girls
I wanted to be popular and vivacious,
instead I found it hard to integrate within the group
Feeling I was on the sideline a hanger on,
withdrawing farther into my shell.

In class I often knew the answer
Too unsure and wary to raise a hand. 
Wanting to audition for a part in the
School Play, lacking confidence to try,
Instead a prompter I became
in reality more scary than a bit part role.

Then came the sixth form.
My confidence starting to grow
Smaller classes. Staff now more 
human and approachable.
Lessons more fun and interesting.
A Striped Prefects Blazer
Corridor duties, House Captain
I start to relax and enjoy.

The happiest days of my life?
 No
They were yet to come.

Copyright © Written by Margaret Yeo ~ All rights reserved

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Image from the net
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