What am I

I belong to every one
but no one can controll me,
they devide me into peices
but they never do consult me.
I always travel forwards
never going back,
even if I surround people
some will always lose my track.
the poorest people always have me
the richest use me up.
I am neither solid, liquid or even gas
so I can't be kept in a cup.


What am I?

What am I

When people blink
they don't see a sec,
but when I blink
I do.
It's not often I can see
but when I do
It's something new.
sometimes I see
an owl in flight
or sometimes
a stary night.
I can have my eye
focus in
far and wide,
which brings me to ask the question...


What am I?

The Wish Fish

On the third Tuesday of July, a man by the name of Alex Gibbons was leaving his bungalow to meet one of his few friends at a fishing lake that he had never even heard of before, “Wish Fish Lake”.

As Alex pulled out of his drive in his battered old mini he looked down at the piece of paper that Roy had written directions on. After ten minutes of coiling country lanes, Alex arrived at a woods with a sign hanging between two trees that marked the entrance to the lake. The sign was a basic yellow, with two silver fish pointing inwards to the name of the lake.

As the scratched and dented, glitter green mini passed tall oaks with waving roots lying out across the ground, the leaves that formed the green canopy overhead blocked off most of the light and the steady stream of road side primroses fell into a thin trickle. When his car broke through the blanket of shade, Alex slowed it to a snail pace crawl and looked out across the lake. Alex rolled his car round the edge of the deserted waters, looking at each of the fishing bays in turn, searching for the perfect spot.

Alex’s dad had taught him that Mother Nature hid most of the best spots for herself and therefore to look down every half hidden spot you could find. Alex was doing just that and on the occasion that he did spy such a path, he would get out of the car and weave his way through the brambles to try and find a suitable spot.

On his fifth battle through the thorns and nettles, he found an area that had been badly neglected by a gang of young kids. Beer bottles were strewn and smashed over the ground and they had made a camp fire in the middle of the bay. Alex left the area and was just opening the driver’s door when he spotted a goose sitting in a nearly invisible path. The goose saw him and took off with a flurry of wings and flying feathers. Alex was just about to venture down the path when his cell phone rang; Roy was on the other end of the line.

"Hi Alex, how are you doing mate? Sorry but I can’t come and the missus is fuming with me."
Alex ventured to say “You forgot that it was your anniversary today didn’t you? It’s my fault too you know, if I had known that it was today then I would have reminded you... sorry.”
“Ah, don’t worry yourself, it’s my stuff to take care of but you just enjoy yourself. See ya.” And he cut the line.

Alex pocketed the phone and tried to remember what he was doing, and then he recalled the hidden path right beside him. When he stepped into the waist high nettles, Alex encountered more obstacles like the brambles and for some reason the ivy had stretched from tree to tree like cobwebs. After he had passed all the obstacles that lay in his path, Alex came into the most perfect and natural fishing spot anyone was likely to find on earth.

The shingle that lay at the waters edge was as clean as if someone came down here regularly and polished each pebble in turn to perfection, and the grass that grew around it was the most brilliant green. There were two weeping willows on each side of the shingle and each one had golden leaves where as the other trees were still green. The water was as pure as if it had not been disturbed in years by algae, and in the middle of the lake sat a tiny island which supported a red-leaved silver birch and the roots spread out of the earth and weaved through the water. When Alex had finally got all his fishing equipment down to the bay he unfolded his chair and sat down, after first casting out his line.

Three hours later, seven fish sat in a large black bucket by his chair waiting to be sold to the local pub. Suddenly the float bobbed under the water so he jumped to his feet and started reeling the unfortunate fish in; first a fin broke the surface with a mass of froth as it flapped and flopped around. Alex waded into the water and lifted his rod high, hauling the fish out of the water but before he could grab it, the fish wriggled off the hook and fell back into the water with a small “Splash.” The small fish knew more than it was letting on and it knew precisely what to do. With a sharp flick of its tail it swam off towards the silver birch island and into the tangle of roots while calling out in the fish language...
“Wish... Wish... WISH!”
And from the darkest tangle of roots came the soft golden glow of the wish fish.

Alex was once again waiting for a fish to bite the hook while he sat down and relaxed, and as quick as lightning, the rod started reeling out. Alex snatched the rod and started pulling back but as he grabbed hold of the spinning handle it wrenched his wrist. The line kept dealing out like there was a shark on the end and suddenly, the whole rod was jerked from his grasp and flung five meters out into the water where it sank but that’s when something else caught his eye.

Slowly extracting itself from the roots of the silver birch was a soft golden glow and when it was free, it picked up its pace and swam steadily towards him. Alex dismissed the wild ideas that came to his head when he saw it and brushing it out of his mind, he set about packing up.

“If you are leaving then please release my friends.” Came an unexpected voice from nowhere.
“Sorry? Who’s there?” called Alex.
“I am.” Replied the voice and Alex was able to pin point it and looked down at the water.
“I spoke.”

Down in the water was a fish with its head cocked on one side but the fact that it could speak was not the thing that stunned Alex. The fish that looked up at him with one eye had scales that looked like silver and polished beyond even a mirror and its fins were a pure gold and gave off a golden glow. In all, the fish looked like it was made up of both silver and gold from another, purer planet.

"If you are leaving then please release my friends.”
Alex was so stunned, he obliged without even thinking.
“Okay.” And lifting up the black bucket he released the captive fish by gently pouring them into the clear lake but the gold one stayed where it was.
“Thank you for releasing them. Why did you capture them?”
Alex frowned and replied with a slight blush. “I needed money so I intended to trade them, I’m sorry but I am close to losing my house and everything I own so I had to do something.”
The fish did something close to a nod and said “I understand, everyone needs something and wishes for it. What do you wish for?”
Alex laughed and said “An endless supply of money!”
The fish said “Granted.”
Looking down at the fish Alex said

“You may be able to talk and look like you’re made of gold and silver but I doubt that you can make wishes come true.”
“They don’t call me the Wish Fish for nothing.” And with a flick of his tail he swam back towards his island and vanished into the roots.
With a sigh, Alex packed his things up and drove home.

When he opened his door there was one letter on the floor which was unaddressed. Opening it he read the four words that lay on the paper “Look on your bed.” There was no signature, but attached to the paper was a silver scale.

Alex walked to his bedroom and pushing open the door he saw a black, iron safe with old fashioned gold patterns on the front. Sitting on top of the safe was a key that matched the patterns on the safe. It was sitting in the dead centre of his bed. When he took the key and opened the safe, his jaw hit the floor. The interior of the safe was a sort of Tardis and stretched for miles and miles. Alex wasn’t even sure that it had an end. When he stuck his head through the door it was like stepping into a different universe for its size. Every few meters in every direction was a pile of gold and silver coins stacked to the size of a house and they continued beyond what the eye could see.

A few months later, Alex had bought Wish Fish Lake from the counsel with a generous amount of money and had built a mansion on the edge of it. When the money exchanged hands Alex had quipped “Money is no object.” And now he had a home which he would never lose and a lake which he would sometimes go rowing in, but most of all, he had made another friend.

The End.

The Ivy House

First the ivy climbs through the vent
Of the deserted house's ground floor,
After spying for a while
It starts it's own slow tour.


Slowly, ever slowly,
It spreads like a disease.
Up the walls, over the floor,
Any way it is pleased.


Snaking through the door,
Hanging from the light.
If someone were to walk in there,
They would see a growing sight.


leaping up the stairs,
Holding on to the rail,
Slowly pulling the wood apart
Separating oak from nail.


Finaly on the landing,
Ivy is on the top floor.
Making up it's wooden mind
It goes through the bathroom door.


After a year or two
The house is barely there
And inside that lush dark green
With mice the house is shared.

What am I Riddles

Many things may come and go
But I stand firm and still,
For me staying in my place
Is of but, god’s will.
My weathered face is battered and cracked
And with stinging salt water, my foot is slapped.
A gull on the wind, in carried in and lands on my green hair.
I have a foot, I have a face
But no body or chest to fill their place.

What am I?

The Smiling of the Stars

A twinkle here, A sparkle there.
Their light shines down
Like glowing hairs.
For them to fly
up in the sky
They must promise the moon,
that jolly guy,
That for them to glow
up in the heavens
They will shine on every
new born Tom and old Miss Evans.
Their ever lasting job
is not just to shine
But deliver happy dreams
Time after time.

Oh, Duck

Oh duck of green and brown and yellow
Also orange and milk white,
Up and down the river
Do you often see such a lovely sight?

Upon the time
Where the sun does shine
Which you people call summer,
The banks that keep thy water in
Do flourish with such bright colour.

And what does it feel like
Ripples lapping at your feather,
And what does it sound like
The gently swaying heather?

The ripples feel gentle
But my feathers, dry they keep
And in the gently swaying heather
I often like to sleep.

Well Duck, I thank you for your time
But alas I hear the church bells chime
So now honestly I must go.
But still I thank you ever so.