Comments Posted By Bunty

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We live by codes, personal codes of conduct, civil ones miltary ones, general ones of the community in which we live. Some are written, some unwritten. Whether we like it or not, few of us are freethinkers who keep their thoughts to themselves and do not seek disciples or at least approval.

» Posted By Bunty On 08.14.2013 @ 8:41 am


The futuure does it, so does your great aunt when you have done something that you shouldn’t have. Or at least that she thinks you shouldn’t have. Beckoning might be a positive thing – being beckoned at in the passive, anyway, but mostly, it feels more threatening in a mild sort of way. At least you can ignore the call and look the other way. Somehow that crooked finger haunts you though.

» Posted By Bunty On 08.12.2013 @ 11:27 am


‘When Adam delved and Eve span, who then was the gentleman? ‘ Thinking of the Levellers of the 17th century brought back so many memories from this life, and for all she knew, past lives.

» Posted By Bunty On 08.04.2013 @ 3:44 pm


There is a differnce between being rich and being wealthy. An old violin and a wise old man are rich. Other people can be cash wealthy momentarily, bt neither wise nor rich.

» Posted By Bunty On 08.03.2013 @ 3:36 pm


Hi- lo- dolly- pepper, one of those playground skipping rhymes that probably meant something one upon a time. Pepper is not a word that I like. Too many P’s . P words tend to be absurd words.

» Posted By Bunty On 08.02.2013 @ 1:38 pm


In Nuremburg the people cheered, even though they were not sure why, except that everyone else was doing it and it seemed the safest thing to do. Soon, it became part of life, like breathing or chronic pain.

» Posted By Bunty On 07.30.2013 @ 3:03 pm


The sloes hang on the blackthorn plump and purple n the special August light. Some were beginning to get the sort of bloom you get on fancy chocolates when they have been saved uneaten for too long. They were ripe to be plucked and she set to.

» Posted By Bunty On 07.29.2013 @ 3:19 am


Dots and dashes can make up every word n every language. Braille and Morse, we salute you.

» Posted By Bunty On 07.25.2013 @ 3:19 pm


Heidi -Ann’s eyes were big and brown. The sunlight shone through the classroom window aross the desk. When Heidi looked up, the reflections looked like staples in her eyes, almost like a goat or a sheep. Curious. It always made me think of the Swiss Alps.

» Posted By Bunty On 07.25.2013 @ 10:51 am


The cat , the rat, the shrew vole and weasel shimmered in the woodland moonlight , frozen into statuesque tableau as the screech owl glided over them, hunting.

» Posted By Bunty On 07.23.2013 @ 9:21 am


They are usually around. closed, open or maybe ajar. Sometimes locked. They come from or go to. A bit like minds, really.

» Posted By Bunty On 07.21.2013 @ 9:16 am


The etiquette of a time and a place can be a minefield of what is polite and what is not. In one place a smile is a friendly response, in others viewed as a baring of teeth, either anxiously or aggressively.

» Posted By Bunty On 07.20.2013 @ 5:40 am


The aeroplane looked like a space-ship, umlike any sky-borne object they had ever seen. It seemed to hover above the street, turning the snowflakes into a swirling vortex. Some said it was extra terrestrial, others that it was a Stealth on a secret test flight.

» Posted By Bunty On 07.18.2013 @ 2:22 pm


The blacksmith was not busy with horseshoes, so in his quiet times he made the most fabulous sculptures out of wrought iron. The artisan became artist.

» Posted By Bunty On 07.17.2013 @ 2:47 pm


He had been a great fan of Dungeons and Dragons, so much so that he became a re-enactor, and rehashed the major battles of the English Civil War, complete with bruises and the odd broken limb.

» Posted By Bunty On 07.16.2013 @ 11:01 am


The raven perched on the fence preening its blacker than black feathers. The sun dappled its back through the oak tree leaves and the raven gleamed irridescent. Jenny said it was so black it was blue, like the purple ink of manuscripts..

» Posted By Bunty On 07.15.2013 @ 8:26 am


The fox cubs play fighting in the meadow, in the shade of the chicken coop. Vixen waits her chance to procure dinner. Practice makes perfect.

» Posted By Bunty On 07.13.2013 @ 3:31 pm


Dark green foliage forms tunnels over holloways. Reflections of oak and ash ripple on thoughts, soothe the soul into dreamscapes.

» Posted By Bunty On 07.12.2013 @ 3:42 pm


The colours of nostalgia , burnt shades of old illustrations of children’s books, give the warmth of blankets on a winter’s evening.

» Posted By Bunty On 07.09.2013 @ 1:04 pm


The willow fronds dip thirstily in the diminished stream as if searching for a truth that rapidly evaporates.

» Posted By Bunty On 07.08.2013 @ 10:52 am


He fell on the stack of straw piled up in the barn. First, it cut his skin and slowly all the crawlies came out from the pile of straw. He was gobbled by pile of straw.

» Posted By Bunty On 07.12.2011 @ 7:20 am

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