Friday Fictioneers – The Lonely

copyright-janet-webbMy contribution for


Ben is his name that’s what he’s called …elderly but still an ‘air’…his head held high with dignity he walks around his town …where children mock and point at pants that bear large holes and worn red cardigan …a cane that he depends upon… that enables him to walk without the limp from hip and body …that has let him down… Ben how is the life …where you live… all alone behind picket fence …where the roof is in such disrepair…tell me truly are you scared? What dreams do you hold onto …what creature comforts are there inside… this house that you live in …that we all deem unfit …not safe for any visitors or a human to inhabit… you fought for us in the war… lost your wife some years ago …do you sit inside alone in thought… and dream the time when you were young…are you happy behind the vines that grow…and care not what they think…your life was spent in happiness…with your Margaret by you side…have you ceased to now let others care…like the house you feel you’ve died… do not let others judge you… this is your family home I know… I only wish to visit you… show I care and …say hello


Battling Alone

This one is just me…listening to music – no form or structure.

Betrayed she was
her heart
twas that of gold
nev’r a fine lass would you find
on dis eart’
he shamed her that he did
he ran off wid another
left a broken soul

she was left alone
to suffer
to plough the soil
to tend to crops
alone in dis world

a youngen she then bore
brought it life without a da
worked as cleaner
for coin to feed the poor
wee lad, hardship she
faced, no ‘elp from anyone
old before her time she is
battlin’ and providin’
for the little one
battlin’ the best she can

if only I could give her more….