Thursday, 30 October 2014

The Devil's Tree...

Walk not into

The woods at night

For fear that you

Should see

The tortured souls

That wriggle and writhe


The Devil's Tree

Poem only  ©Copyright Lynn Gerrard 2.8.2012

Monday, 27 October 2014


Tell us the story,


Of how it used

To be

Before the voices

Told you

To slaughter your


Poem only  ©Copyright Lynn Gerrard 2.8.2012

Saturday, 25 October 2014

Fingers of Deceit...

Where lies the truth

In honesty?

How many sins

In a Saint?

Fingers of deceit

Touch everything

And whatever they touch

They taint!

Poem only  ©Copyright Lynn Gerrard 2.8.2012

The Change...

We've changed and shifted

Moved and drifted

Things are not

As they were

He's almost indifferent

To my very existence

He sees through me

As if I'm not there

In bed he lies huddled

Denying me cuddles

Should I dare to brush

Past his flesh

I speak and he quivers

He cowers and shivers

He's just not the same man

Since my death

Poem only  ©Copyright Lynn Gerrard 2.8.2012

Brenda...**BLOG POST**...

Ted's a character I introduced in a series of writings I penned a while ago...He's a twenty something young man of best intentions and dubious outcomes with an insufferable old granny, whom he loves very much, despite her terminal irreverence to everything!...

I'm sure Ted will share such goings on with you some other time, but for now, he has a few things he needs to say about his friend...


I first met Brenda at Slimming World...I helped to open the double doors to let her in. 

It was a beautiful summers day which was perfect because a little party was being held outside in celebration of one of the members losing an amazing amount of weight...( personally I thought Cancer was cheating...but...hey-ho! a party's a party I suppose ).

Me and Brenda got chatting over a low fat pork pie at the buffet...well, I say 'chatting'...she was trying to wrestle it out of my hand. Nevertheless, I couldn't help thinking how eye catching she was...not every woman could carry off a muzzle. 

To break the ice I asked her how she'd got there that day...( I suspected airlifted )...and before we knew it we were nattering away like old pals. I'm glad to say that that's exactly what we became.

Our relationship's always been platonic and that's nothing to do with her be fair she does offer a discount for's just how it was and there was no one as happy as I was when she met Barry through the 'Syphilitics On-Line Dating Agency'.

Brenda said it was uncanny really because she remembered Barry from when he was a little lad. Him and a few of his like minded mates, each keen violinists, formed their own little group called 'The Kiddie Fiddlers'.

Apparently they were very popular too in their youth and used to perform a lot at children's parties but sadly, for some reason, they didn't do as well when they got older.

Electric Chair Whoopie CushionAnyway, me, Brenda and Barry have all been pals together now for many years and in that time, I'm proud to say, I've got to know their families very well. So much so that I even got an invite to Barry's Dad's execution in Georgia last Christmas. It was a warming affair, I can tell you. 

As for Barry's Mum, well that woman always makes a particular effort to make people feel at home...indeed she never fails to welcome everyone with open Brenda's Dad will attest most fervently.

But enough of all that...I think it's time we got on with the celebration of the all that's left to say now is......

"Ladies and Gentlemen...without further ado...would you please be upstanding and join me in raising your glasses, to the Bride and groom....Brenda and Barry...........hip hip......hoorayyyyyy"

Ahh I do love a good wedding...

©Copyright Lynn Gerrard 2.8.2012

Friday, 24 October 2014

Dancing Dead...

When a midnight moon

Smiles on them

And there's no one

There to see

The dead rise from

Their earthy beds

For a night of gaiety!

Poem only  ©Copyright Lynn Gerrard 2.8.2012

Wednesday, 22 October 2014

The Thing on the Stairs...

With the darkness

Came a sound

To fill her heart

With dread

Footsteps dragging

Up the stairs

Amidst a graveyard stench

Of Death!

Poem only  © Copyright Lynn Gerrard 2.8.2012