Lost Lost – A Circular Sonnet – March 23, 2016

Tomb small

Lost lost in the darkness you’ll walk
where evil weaves its awful web
black the night as the bell tolls ten
scratch at the door, yes, wail and weep
the door is locked, you cannot leave.

Lost lost in the black sepulchre
roam the dank catacombs my fair
you sought his love instead of mine
intrigued by his exotic eyes –
the door is locked, you cannot leave.

Lost lost they’ll never find you now
I could have told them – but will not
you would betray me for his charm
now you scratch at the old stone walls
the door is locked, you cannot leave

Lost lost in the endless darkness
the door is locked, you cannot leave.

© G.s.k. ‘16

(5) Words: | WEB | LOST | BLACK | SCRATCH | LOCK |

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The Secret Keeper’s – Weekly Writing Prompt #29

The Upright Piano – July 31, 2014

The upright piano

Credit: Favim



It was a misty hour at dawn
When walking through the woods I heard
A melody echoing through the trees
It was neither wind nor bird …

At that misty hour of dawn
It was a melody of a ghostly strain
An echo of a piano filled the air …
Like a sonata by Mozart or Chopin

I thought, how odd to hear this sound …
Perhaps it comes from the valley below,
Someone playing most beauteously
I continued on my morning walk.

Then I came upon an object,
Which I’d never thought to see …
T’was an old abandoned upright piano
In the undergrowth among the trees.

The music had stopped I noted then
I touched the keys, they were dead …
This could not be the eerie source
Of the music of that misty dawn.

I went along that misty morn …
Then I felt a chill go through my hair.
When the piano was far behind me
Music again echoed through the air.



Written for Freewrite

The Case of the Silent Bell – June 6, 2014

For Sunday Photo Fiction – Every week on a Sunday, a new photo is used as a prompt for Flash Fiction challenge using around 200 words based on that image.


The Case of the Silent Bell

My name is Payne, Crystal Payne. I’m a private investigator.

It was 9:45 on a Sunday morning as I stood looking at a bell tower. It was similar to many other towers I’d seen over the years. However, my black cat Caesar with his puffed up swishing tail told me there must be something special about it.

The client had called at 8:32. Seems that the bell wouldn’t ring any more.

“You’ve got to come at once!” said the priest. The story of my life, everything had to be done at once!

I walked into the church with my camomile candle lit. There near the belfry stairs stood the ghost; a rather sorrowful lookingTrappist monk.

“What’s the problem?” I asked.

“They’ve blocked the bell.” He said. “But I’ve fixed them!  I’ve blocked their tape recorder!”

I immediately understood the problem so I went to talk to the parish priest.

“But it’s a bother having to ring that bell all day long!  I’m getting old you know!” he said after I told him why the “bell” wouldn’t ring.

The solution was easy. From 10:42 onwards the Trappist monk happily rang the bell.


Friday Fictioneers – May 30, 2014

Copyright -Jennifer Pendergast

Copyright -Jennifer Pendergast

The Pink Cloche

Walking through the courtyard I approached the archway that led to the exit.

Madeline Grainge was found dead, strangled, near a row of bicycles. She’d been my client.

Basically a silly job, she’d wanted me to find out who had stolen her pink cloche at a cocktail party.  She was mad about that hat, it was her granny’s, she’d said, who’d been strangled in 1935.

I’d found the culprit, an old geezer of 98 who she’d known all her life, his grandson was her fiancé.

Now, I have a killer to catch. Madeline Grainge, as I said was my client.

Written for Friday Fictioneers May 30, 2014

Beyond The Stone Wall (Light and Shade – May 18, 2014 )

Beyond The Stone Wall

Picture by blenderman2 on rgbstock.com

Picture by blenderman2 on rgbstock.com

The stone wall runs along the path, no one knows who built it. There certainly isn’t any clearing nor sign of human life beyond it. My grandsire says it has been there since the beginning of time…or at least it was already there when his grandsire was a child.

No one goes beyond the wall.

The light shines differently there and when you start to climb over the wall, you feel strange and anxious. I know, because I’ve tried once. That day, my friend Daniel, did get over the wall. In a second he was gone and he never returned.

Inspired by Light and Shade – Friday May 16, 2014