Showing posts with label Writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Writing. Show all posts

Thursday, 25 February 2016

The Great Game

Hi Readers!

I hope you're having a great week! Today I have a story for you that I wrote yesterday.
Be warned, it is rather peculiar.




The Great Game

By Jemma Tainsh

On a hill covered in scraggly pines, a kangaroo was having an earnest discussion with his son. The road nearby was mostly clear, the only occupant being a squashed fox. The trees glowed in the orange light of the setting sun, and there was an occasional glint of light of a battered mailbox. “Son,” announced the kangaroo, “The time has finally come for me to tell you of-“   He paused for effect, “-The Great Game!”
Awed by the capitals, his son gazed into his eye, “Wow Dad!” he exclaimed, “It must be wonderful!”
“It is, son, it is” His misty-eyed father assured him, “all Joeys learn it as soon as they have left their mothers pouch! I remember when your grandfather taught it to me!”
“How do we play it dad?” the young Joey asked enthusiastically
“Well,” replied his father, almost reluctant to hurry the conversation, “You know the great Cars of the humans? They are majestic beasts and go by many names”
“Sure I know ‘em Dad”
“What we do is, we go down to the edge of their territory, The Road, and we watch carefully for Cars; my favourite is the bold Toyota, and we dash across the Road in front of them!” The kangaroo was practically hopping from excitement, his son however, was sceptical
“Why do we do that Dad?” he inquired, “Wouldn’t we die?”
“Ah,” said his father, a crafty look in his eye, “But we don’t, we speed across, swift and hoppy, it feels amazing! Dancing with the great beast of the Car! Such prestige in the roo community! The Most Important High Roo has hundreds of Cars under his belt!
“I see…” murmured the Joey thoughtfully, “I suppose it would be fun!”
“And that’s not even the best part!” squealed the older roo in delight, “Now listen carefully son, many wallabies died to bring us this news.”
‘I’m listening Dad!”
“It’s The Country Music Festival!” His father whispered as enthusiastically as you can whisper
“What does that mean Dad?”
“Why son, have you not learned anything!?” he exclaimed, “The Country Music Festival is when Cars from all over Australia come to visit our town! That means plenty of opportunities! Holdens! Toyotas! Mazdas! It’s the most amazing time of the year!
His father’s excitement began to rub of onto his son, “Wow Dad! Can we go have a go now!?”
“We sure can!” Hollered the jumping kangaroo, “Look! There’s one now! I'll show you how it's done!”

Greg drove along the road thinking about his sandwich. Soon he’d home and able to eat in peace. Something caught his eye. One those blasted kangaroos. It even had a Joey. Funny, it almost seemed to be pointing at his car. Suddenly the older kangaroo hopped wildly across the road. “What on earth!?” yelped Greg, “stupid kangaroo” he muttered, feeling slightly guilty as he hit it. “Oh, well.” And he went back to thinking about his sandwich.

‘Dang...’ Thought the younger kangaroo, ‘oh well, it happens. He’ll be much honoured by the community.’






I am absolutely certain kangaroos actually do this. 

By for now! Thanks for reading and have a nice week!

Wednesday, 17 June 2015

Of rainy poetry and stories to be told

Hi Readers!
It's raining here, yay! And so I give you a poem (in a loose definition of the word poem) about rain!

A Rainy Winter's Day by Jemma
Rain falls from the sky, mist rolls over the hills
rain drops sparkle on the bushes and everything is a brilliant green
miniature rivers run lazily across the ground,
and a little brown dog shakes himself vigorously.
The bare branches of the ornamental pear are laden with drops,
diamonds in the mist.

What do you think? It was kind of fun to compose - especially since I'm inside and cosy - not outside and wet like my dog, Jack.
In this post I would like to share a bit about some stories I'm writing. On the subject of rain, here is a snippet of an un-named story.

"Rain rain, have you seen my beloved?",The lover called to the rain,
"Not us, not us" the rain whispered back, "try the north wind, maybe he will have seen your beloved". And the rain pattered away on gentle feet.

I am writing a LOT of stories at the moment. A sleeping beauty retelling, a tale of a lover's search for her beloved, a Cinderella retelling and The Wacky Adventures of Septyc Hors.
The main one is Septyc Hors, it is about an evil henchman call Septyc Hors. A rather unsuccessful evil henchman.

Bye Readers! Thank you for reading!