Wishes

I Wish

I wish I had a Puppy

I wish his name was Ben

I wish my little puppy

I wish he'd use a pen

I wish he’d tell a story

I wish he’d tell a tale

I wish my little puppy

Could do more than wag his tail

Statement Lies

This is another one minute exercise from our Wordsmiths group. The idea was to write a story or poem using obvious untruths. Here is my answer to the challenge.

Statement Lies, a Poem

 

The sky is red the sea is dry

Time stands still when you cry

 

A mother’s hug is never warm

A child is quiet when it’s born

A belted dog will wag it’s tail

A fire siren does not wail

Ode to Aging

Ode to Aging

 

Now I’m growing older

And soon my time is done

I think about my travels

And victories I’ve won

Glory days of endless sunshine

And days of flooding rain

 

I remember holding close to you

To minimise your pain

Sobs that shook you to the core

I don’t want to see again

I felt your lips with loving kisses

No man could love you more

Once

During one of our writing exercises this year, the group decided to try writing several one minute sessions to make a story or poem. The idea being to use a word drawn from a hat. This is one of my offerings and the word I drew for this one was once.

 

 

ONCE

 

Once there was a hobbit

Once there was a hole

Once there was a table

Once in the hobbits hole

Once he took a pot of tea

Once he made a cake

 

Once I made a visit

Once to the hobbit hole

Once I ate with him his cake

Once in that hobbit hole

Once I drank with him his tea

Once I dreamt that he was me

Allen Gibb the toddler who left home and came home a boy with polio

Allen Gibb is one man trying to help raise awareness to the way Polio ravages not only children but adults too. Australia had an inclusive immunisation programme that had eliminated the disease by the mid eighties and now we are under threat of it's return by people who for unknown reasons are refusing to immunise their children. I will post more of his story later, but as Allen now faces post polio syndrome, with the disease returning and further reducing his capabilities it may be timely to look at what he had to endure as a child. This poster shows the contraptions he was tied into to help him carry on and play as best he could with other children.

As Poster boy for the Crippled Children's Association he was doing his bit back then.

Now older and more world worn, Allen might disagree with the comments of the letter to the Down Every Street Appeal's helpers, but he would agree that the cause is still worth fighting for.

Mate I salute you.

We will soon have more to relay as Allen tells us his perspective of being a child suffering with this disease and how it is revisiting him now. In the meantime, we ask that you investigate the benefits of immunisation yourself, before saying no to immunising your childtren.

Memories of a childhood mate.

Over the past few years, thanks to the wonders of the internet, I have been able to keep in touch with many friends and family. School was one of those places where we all met people. Some we may not have become close to, but who we still remember. Over the years we be-friend some, find we don't get on with others and make enemies of a few. Time tends to erase the worst memories and today I find myself e-mailing them and swapping stories about our own good old days.
 

    My school was Orroroo Higher Primary School and at the time kids bussed in from Carrieton, Tarcowie, Willowie, Yatina and Johnburgh. In the sixties over three hundred and twenty kids filled the courtyard for assembly. Some stood out for academic prowess, others for their sporting ability and then there were the bottom feeders, people like me. We scraped through without recognition and had to carry home report cards telling our parents we must strive more, if we expected to achieve a pass mark.

    During these early years one kid stood out, not because he was different, but because he was away from school for big chunks of the year at times. We didn’t know why.

    Allen lived a few houses up the street from us. I didn’t understand until we were in about year five, that Allen was different, he had polio. Nothing stopped this bloke, we played cricket, rode our bikes (his was a three wheeler, but boy he made it go) swapped comics and dreamed. Never once can I recall him complaining of his condition. I think as most kids do he accepted it.

    As happens often, his family moved away and our lives went on. Allen enjoyed success in the education field and I followed into the family business.

    My memory is that he always had a positive attitude. Maybe it is something he dealt with back then. Today through social media and by collecting stories from other people, he is working to make others aware of what polio did to sufferers like him. His is work of great service. For me we were kids, Allen didn't have poliomyelitis, sure he had irons that made him walk funny, but I had freckles and was not academically gifted. Other kids were different too, that hasn't changed, at the time we just got on with.

Heroes come in different guises; Allen Gibb is this to me.

Check out his posts on Facebook to follow more of his story.

Kundela reviewed by AUSTCRIME

Scrolling through writing sites last night and found a review of my novel KUNDELA, on the AustCrime website.

Not the best review one could hope for, but an honest and helpful critique of my work.

Take a look and see if you agree:

http://www.austcrimefiction.org/review/review-kundela-terry-l-probert#comment-664