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Poems and prose


A corner for contributions on any topic - and you can comment as well.


Latest Posts

Christmas puzzles for the younger reader

Posted on 5th February, 2017

Welcome to a page set up for younger users over the Christmas period.


I have created a number of puzzles and quizes for you which are not too easy, so I hope you will enjoy the challenge. 


There are wordsearches, hidden tile messages, a couple of quizes and other things.


To get access to the pages, click here.

Mrs Carrington's Gogo stories

Posted on 11th November, 2013

Gogo goes to the Seaside 






Mrs Carrington has lived in East Farleigh for many years, and brought up two daughters there.  When they were little, she invented short stories to entertain them.  These stories were all about a young boy called Gogo (the first 'o' is short, as in 'log' and the second long, as in 'going').  Gogo lived in a house surrounded by animals, and he had a big appetite, as you will see.


All the Gogo stories started with the sentence "Gogo woke up..."  

Gogo goes to the seaside part 2

These stories were a great success with her daughters and years later, Mrs Carrington wrote them down, so that her granddaughter could enjoy them as well.  Four of them were illustrated by a friend, but they were never published.


Here, with her permission,  are these charming stories:


Gogo wakes up

Gogo and a snowy day Part I

Gogo and a snowy day Part II

Gogo goes to the seaside

Gogo on holiday

Poorly Gogo

A railway poem

Posted on 4th January, 2013

This poem is dedicated to all the poor souls out there faced, like I used to be, with another winter of commuting and yet more above-inflation fare hikes

- Brian Cushing




 Paddock Wood is dark and cold

A cheerless railway stop, all told

Southeastern's train is somewhat late

Another meeting missed, oh great

The newsagent without a doubt

Will say my paper's all sold out

To make it worse, announcements blare

Through speakers, just so we're aware

We mustn't leave kit unattended

To bomb disposal they will send it

Don't feed the pigeons, they're a pest

Co-operation we request

Don't rollerblade or skateboard here

To regs and byelaws please adhere

Don't walk on platforms when it's wet

An injury you will regret

Don't stand in front of yellow line

There's danger, can't you see the sign

We're thankful when the train pulls in

To get some peace from all this din

And switch off brain, enjoy a kip

Fat chance, cos like a steady drip

"Your tickets please!" comes nearer slowly

Checking up on high and lowly

Just in case we jump the gate

and scarper at a rapid rate

at London Bridge, our destination

That fully PA'd railway station

Where lest we'd missed them, speakers chime

The same announcements, one more time.



A Celtic poem (thanks to Christi Morgan)

Posted on 6th June, 2012



I saw a stranger yesterneen;

I put food in the eating place,

Drink in the drinking place,

Music in the listening place

And in the sacred name of the Triune

He blessed me and my dear ones 

My cattle and my house

And the lark said in her song,

Often, often,often,

Goes the Christ in stranger's guise.

Often, often, often,

Goes the Christ in stranger's guise.



Our welcome from West Farleigh

Posted on 29th April, 2012


Are newcomers welcome at West Farleigh?  First impression, when we came to view Lucita was a big yes, but after a couple of weeks I am beginning to wonder if there are darker forces at work trying to drive us out of the village.  Here's what happened:



Arrived at Charlton Lane ahead of the removal van

Decided to move our chattels in as quietly as we can


Around the bend there came an unfriendly local bus

He lost his skirt in an attempt to pass and did he make a fuss


The local cop arrived to see just why he was upset

She moved him on with dulcet tones, she really was a pet


Next as I tried to do a wash the water levels rose

The floor was soaked and in my shoes so were my little toes


The next two days were calm and quiet ‘til the arrival of BT

Stupid ignoramuses no internet for me


What’s next I thought as I did lay sleepless in my bed

The village ghosts already knew they were a step ahead


Thunder crashed, lightning flashed, chicken was cooking well

Bang and thump the oven blew I thought I was in hell


All quiet on the Farleigh front as when I left on Saturday

Only to get a call from Ron, I dreaded what he’d say


The local bus came back to haunt and took the bend too wide

The garden wall is in the road my angry husband sighed


The villagers smiled as we retold stories at this juncture

One more thing to make them laugh our car did get a puncture


Although this trail of odd events may seem to be all woe

We love it here and will fight on we don’t intend to go.


Thanks to Jackie Taylor


Poems and reflections welcome on any topic