Wednesday, 25 September 2019

Creative Writing- The sound of Tap, Tap, Tapping (250 word live snapshot)


The office had eeriness to it. One filled with the sound of tap,tap, tapping on the keyboards of over seventy- five workers putting out fires against paperwork piles and the constant ringing of the phones. What Simon was really good at however, was drowning out the dull drowning sounds around him. Focusing on the tasks ahead and leading the way across the team.

“Ok team” Simon said with motivating confidence as he stood up from his chair. “We need a plan, only 7 days’ notice has been given from this placement and transport needs to be arranged”.

Maylina was already feeling the strain from the duty task she had, and felt overwhelmed with the thought of more but she reluctantly took on the extra task of sorting out transport. Whilst organising and filing paperwork, she came across an old tea stained note hidden amongst referral forms and quickly opened it for clarification around its priority needs.

October 5th, 1991.
My darling May,
It’s been 28 years since I last held you as a baby. Just 2 hours old and I knew that giving you up, was the best thing I could give you. Please forgive me.

Maylina paused in hesitation, for her grandpa, the man who had raised her had always called her May for short.
Was this a coincidence, she didn’t know……..


Photo by Jan Kah├ínek on Unsplash

Written by LexiRose @ LexiRose.me

Thursday, 19 September 2019

Creative Writing: Social Work- I have three parents you know....


I have three parents you know….

Written by LexiRose @ Lexirose.me  

19th Septmber 2019

I have three parents you know? My sister Lily and me,
And I appreciate it’s difficult for you all to see.
But please take a seat and drink your tea,
whilst I take the time to explain how things came to be.

Parent one is that of my biological mother
I’ll tell you, it did not take her long to find another,
The next bad man with a Fix-er uper,
I cried when I almost had a little baby brother.

She left me alone all day and night,
and I was always thankful to be out of sight,
for when she and Steve saw only black lights
I new I could sleep and I would be alright.

Sometimes it was hard as Lilly would cry
And I was so scared someone would die.
Especially when mum and Steve were so often high.
I never knew the day would come where we could say goodbye.

A man in uniform came to my school, “Robyn, it’s time to go soon”
I was puzzled and confused because it was barely noon,
then I caught him looking at the mark from mum’s wooden spoon
and my teacher announced “he’ll be twelve in June”.

In the car I am silent and wishing for home,
I was worried my mum wouldn't answer the house phone.
“where is Lilly?” I started to moan
as I sat in the back of the Volkswagen alone.

It’s dark and it’s cold and I can see lights flickering
Inside this small cottage just above the clearing.
“where are we going” I start fearing
and I swear this uniformed guy is hard of hearing.

Parent two is that of my foster carer,
I really wished he wouldn’t come any nearer.
In the living room he had three two seater's’and
he said “sorry lad, I’ve got a fever”

Day one, day two, then three and four,
please don't think I was just keeping score,
but I was anxious because no one would tell me more.
And Lilly was gone and I couldn't save her like before.

But then day five began to change
when a “sibling contact” had been arranged
and oh my how happy I felt that finally, we were no longer restrained.
Lilly was smiling and so was I, as our very first hug was excitably exchanged.

It’s Monday afternoon and your on your way over
to do that last minute visit in late October.
Yes you’ve guessed it, your the controller,
Parent number three, My Social Worker.

You enter the house and talk as if I was not here,
whispering so quietly I can not possibly hear.
This behaviour of yours only makes me fear,
and then you proceed to ask me “Robyn, do you like it here?”

well Mrs Susan, my social worker friend,
I’ll tell you the truth because you drive me round the bend.
You come late and break your promise which you think you can just mend
but I am telling you now, you are not what I recommend.

“I just want my sister Lilly” I protest,
for that's the only way you can restore my trust.
You pretend you understand but still I’m repeating that the court must!
then you slowly walk away, leaving the door mostly shut.

Several days have past and Parent 2 tells me your back.
I was nervous and ready to attack
when you said “Robyn, just look behind your back”
I turn slowly, confused, scared it’s a hack

and then there she is, I see her clearly,
my beautiful baby sister Lilly.
With a snack in each hand I’m thinking “really?”
“The courts said yes” said Susan cheerily

I have three parents you know? My sister Lilly and me,
And I appreciate it’s difficult for you all to see.
One biological, one foster carer and one social worker from Dundee
and now I am ready to work with all three.


Written by LexiRose @ Lexirose.me  
19th September 2019
Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

Tuesday, 3 September 2019

Mr Woodchuck- creative writing/ Character builder


Mr Woodchuck, written and illustrated by LexiRose. 

James swore on his mother’s grave, but then he swore on just about anything. That was his “get out of jail” strategy to dodge facing the consequence of seeing Mr Woodchuck after school. He was able to visualise Mr Woodchuck almost instantly which quickly led to a racing heart and sweaty palms.

Mr Woodchuck had a stern stare, causing the room to go cold. His forehead was crinkled from always frowning. In fact, James had never seen Mr Woodchuck smile. Maybe he didn’t even have a smile?

His round football shaped head was perfectly positioned on his shoulders, wearing the same oversized and largely plain blue shirt, giving the impression that he didn’t have a neck. He always wore the same black tie with mild blue strips with out of place gold cufflinks on each wrist. Mr Woodchuck was a stocky man. Short, maybe five foot four or five, with some extra weight around the middle. His hair was wiry, brown and curly complete with an overgrown beard which housed leftover ginger biscuits. He wore authentic Burberry, wool tailored black trousers which were just the right size. Coming in at around five hundred pounds, James knew Mr Woodchuck was making a statement. Any shorter however and he ran the risk of exposing his socks or belly rolling from under his shirt. His office spelt harshly of fresh mint. The smell often dominated the room so much it would make James eyes water like leaky taps dripping.

As James entered Mr Woodchuck’s office, the first thing to catch his attention was that of a single, shiny, sleek apple placed carefully next to a beaten up mouldy orange, before noticing Mr Woodchucks stern stare, causing the room to go cold…….

A collection of Stamps- Why I Recommend Post- Crossing

Since the passing of my Nan, I've embarked on a journey into the world of stamps and stamp collections. Helping with the organising of h...