Writer's Reader
Wednesday, 28 January 2026
Expectations, a lyric by Alan Ewing
Monday, 5 January 2026
Winter Writing
Tribute (to my little punkette Sarah Sara)
Guess I'm livin' the dream
Twelfth Night
is not good.
Though it is.
Ride your bike
through the night
and try not to
ring your bell.
For she can never
tell
if you are in love
with her
God's Games we
play,
in romance anyway,
a simple chance to
be.
Monday, 24 November 2025
Late November Writing, by Alan Ewing
Sally Holly (2 paragraph story)
Sally Holly was in a horrible mood. "I am so ill and the world hates me; I can't trust anybody." Flocks of boys arrived to save her. Then she turned and said "So long, suckers!" Last we heard was that Sally Holly was living in a two-bit motel outside of LA and had not a friend or boy to chase after her in the world. SH had made the fatal mistake of loving herself. She never knew love because she could not see outside of herself.
Sally Holly decided to take the veil in order to escape her life. She eventually became Head of A Convent in Switzerland. She would frown upon the young novices, always wanting to stop their progress in case they became a power issue. She had taken the name of Sister Narci little realising the connotations. She still continues to love herself. Her God is in her Goddess self-image. Here at Vatican Headquarters we tend to her in her isolated cell of analysis. A truly fascinating human being.
Jottings
Took A Bunk (punky-wunky)
I took a bunk on life
Sick of it all
Tired of the strife
I decided to have a ball
I shot down annoyances
No more crap
Fed up with cloying
I really hit the mat
I got so damn annoyed
With frustration
I really got on a trip
Such anger I was making
The bunk stank as it would
I was really pissed
Decided to just chuck it all
Nothing would be missed
And so my bunk on life
Is today
Really just had to get rid
Of all in my way
True Love
True Love never runs smoothly ...
A Midsummer Night's Dream
and yet here we are in November,
with leaves off the trees
and all looking barren.
And yet romantic love abounds within this.
To be or not to be says Hamlet, may have
connotations that go beyond politics.
For did Orphelia not suffer due to
the protagonist's inaction?
The Abyss Nightclub
More Tales from 'The Abyss' the nightclub to end all nightmares with the biggest one. 'Don't arf fancy 'im'', sprung up Cheryl. Liz answered 'If you like seconds then you're okay, 'erd 'ee was sniffin' around Lesley last night'. Cheryl didn't care. And then somebody remarked: 'Is this the kind of tosh writing that we have to put up with on Facebook these days? I'll write to my MP about it.' The MP was at the bar getting smashed. It was that kind of nightmare. With no ending.
With God
With God, we are in it
Life, I mean
We feel such love
That's God in-between
We struggle for meaning
In our daily lives
Something beyond us
As in heart we try
A Lord who lives with us
In every experience
One who offers hope
If you would believe it
Even unto death itself
Walking by your side
Lord experienced it
Came back on this side
And so new bodies next
Your Lord has come through
Did you really doubt?
Oh silly old you!
Just Like Alice
Tweedle Dum said no
Tweedle Dee said yes
I was in a muddle
Just Like Alice
The cat was smiling
In its way
I was in a muddle
Just like Alice
The Red Queen was in a huff
The White Queen even more so
I was in a muddle
Just like Alice
The Rabbit in a hurry
Maybe off for a curry
I was in a muddle
Just like Alice
I grew so much taller
Then shrank again
I was in a muddle
Just like Alice
Another Car
If I ever get another car
You won't see me again
I'll take off into the distance
Life will never be the same
I'll drive through the mountains
Just like I used to in days gone by
I'll hit the pedal like no tomorrow
Not seen by even one little eye
And I'll laugh and shout 'whoo!'
As I drive through valleys and lakes
I will go so fast in the wind storm
I won't even use the brakes
I'll call the car 'sugar babe'
as she whizzes
She'll be my honey bee
She'll almost be my Missus
For if I ever get another car
That will make me happy
I'll drive in and out the wilds
Not on a motorway
Blogs
MASKS: So many to choose from. In acting and psychology then you try them on. You form an identity which may not be you though you love to try it on. We do this each time we walk out of the door. What was personal becomes public and the mask is required. The job mask, the shopping mask, the walking down the street mask, the going out to the pub mask, the church mask, the posing in the mirror mask ...the mask from yourself ...nothing quite like a good theatre night .
PREDESTINATION: John Calvin, theologian (1509-1564) held that that we are all simply living out all that is meant to be. Well, excuse me for staring at the wall with a blank expression, what if I deliberately go astray? Simple, says the Calvinist, that was in the script. So you see it can't be disproven. All swings and roundabouts and getting back on the bus! Doesn't that question free will? Calvanist replies 'not if it's written in the script'. – Do'h!
PREDESTINATION (2): John Calvin (theologian 1509-1564) got it wrong. God would never grant us free will to believe or not, and then in deception write a script in advance. That would go against God's Nature, and against Natural Law (Aristotle, Aquinas). The hypothesis is flawed. Now you know what I sit up all night thinking about 😌 That, and sitting by the window looking for Uranus, who is moving close. Must get a better telescope (in the loft with roof window, hooked up to computer). Love astronomy.
PREDESTINATION (3) I hope that I debunked the Calvinist theory (see earlier posts). I mean, it just isn't God to play deception with games/scripts. We do have free will to believe or not believe. That is core to how God's Love works. She/He is not a dictator ... He/She wants your love in genuine form. I do hope that we can just forget about being forced into God's Love for it is beauty itself and freely given and totally up to us to receive it or not ±
Gags
ASTRONOMY GAG: I spend my nights eating Milky Ways, Mars Bars and Galaxy Bars. Who needs a telescope!
COMPUTER GAG: Computers are like cars. They depreciate. When it comes to replace them you are always looking for the next MOT.
copyright dewyswriter 2025
Saturday, 20 September 2025
Late Summer Writing (3) by Alan Ewing
We
bid goodbye to Summer
As
it comes to an end
Planet
tilts, ardour wilts
As
our love we send
So
how was your little Summer?
Did
it treat you well?
Finding
love under the apple tree?
If
not then just as well
For
Summer's love ends forlorn
As
leaves fall from the trees
Though
Autumn brings love reborn
As
it refreshes with its breeze
Oh
your heart seems lost now
Though
you always get through
Always
a case of work on somehow
Because
Winter is kind, that's true
So
take your aching Summer heart
And
take lessons from the wind
It
blows, gusts as it plays its part
As
Spring promises a new start
LOVE GAG: I gave up falling in love because it drained my resources. Like her turning up for a bath, having my naps disturbed, having to go out, all the chocolate gone in fridge, being bossed around, not able to make a decision without approval, not able to set my own routine, debating about what to watch on TV, arguing about nothing, constant clashes about nothing, not able to move without being questioned about my intentions, told that I neglect her ... life is never the same
My Pen
What
happened to my pen?
I
must have left it there again
I
was just about to write lines
About
how my heart just pines
Oh,
gee, my silly old gold pen
Looks
like I've just lost it again
Typical
when I am in this mood
To
write something so crude
Now
where did I leave my pen
Did
I just leave it in my den
That's
The Study if you know
My
little place where I go
Now
someone knows of my pen
Maybe
it was stolen once again
I'll
catch that thief oh for sure
Regret
breaking through my door
I
will surely find my pen again
Without
it I would go insane
My
best friend all it means to me
For
my pen sets me free
There isn't one
At life's end
All love gone
Often a surprise
From distance
Those being eyes
Saw your existence
Angel from above
Not expected
Saw you love
And selected
A huge relief
To know that so
Inspires belief
The way to go
Who did you think
Was your best friend?
Just another link
To find God's end
Saturday, 13 September 2025
Late Summer Writing (2) by Alan Ewing
Late Summer Writing (2) by Alan Ewing
THE GREAT CHEESE DEBATE: Everybody knows it's made from Cow's milk' said Bertie. 'Not so', piped up Tommy, "It grows on Cheese Plants like my dad told me!" Graham laughed: 'You're both wrong. The Moon is made of cheese, as Wallace & Gromit proved. It gets imported to Earth by rockets!'
AI Gerl
Excuse me!
I asked.
Why should I?
She replied
Can you comply?
I requested.
No! I can't.
She answered.
Do you mind?
I stated.
Not a bit.
She said.
It was funny
And was sunny
She took time
No friend of mine
It was all AI
Latest model
Developed fault
Not worth its salt
Her name was Pepper.
101 Labradors
All I wish for is 101 Labrador puppies
With Siamese kittens to match
I'd be such a very happy yuppy
If life allow this without a catch
A few years to go with economics
Till I can find a bit of Peace
You know I'll go supersonic
When I finally find release
Sometimes I tire and want to be with The Lord
I long for Him to arrive to avenge with sword
Though I know that Love is so complicated
And I do not wish to end up exasperated
I just long for domestic bliss in life
Like cosying down after a day
With loved ones who actually care
And it's not put down to heresay
And so I wish for 101 Labrador puppies
With Siamese Kittens to match
For what is life without an aim?
A silly old troubled and futile game
The Great Cake
This was the day of the cake. Gerald had staked everything upon it to impress Geraldine. He told her that it would be the greatest cake ever made. It would blow off the Victoria Sponges, Swiss Rolls and Bakewell Tarts. Nothing would ever match it in history for sure. He was convinced that he would win her.
Come the day for his presentation to her, Gerald ended up in a mess. His cake was flat because he forgot to put in the Baking Powder. He was mortified. How could this happen? He had forgotten his own ingredient - arrogance. Geraldine laughed and said that it was a piece of cake to walk out upon him.
BLONDE GAG: How many blondes does it take to change a light-bulb? Answer: Too many!
My Church of England Rosary Bead
My Church of England
Rosary Bead
Means so much
At my touch
Not Roman Catholic
Anglo Catholic
My dedication
Oh my frustration
I pray for Love
To reign
An end
To war and pain
I need Resurrection
Within my soul
Holy Ghost
Is my goal
My Church of England
Rosary Bead
Means so much
At my touch
Fizz
I got in a bit of a tizz
Bottle of pop went fizz
Tried a little Brandy
Made me go randy
A Mrs from a Mizz
Tried to get my head
Together all said
Into a state of finesse
Tried for the best
I'd be better off dead
Tried to make amends
Ended up with dead-ends
You're taking the joke
When you really do poke
At the love that I send
Going out of my mind
You are really so kind
For a great cup of tea
That made me see
All that I could find
So now my mind is clear
It's very easy to steer
To where I should go
I'd like you to know
All is well around here
Move On
When I move on
I'll move
faster than sound
in a groove
When I walk on
no talk
silence of footsteps
I'll heed all sorts
When I leave you
just so
speed of movement
I will go
When it is time
on clock
take my steps
key in lock
When comes dawn
I will leave
que on time
you better believe
Frustration
When nobody is on your level
Like tuning in an old FM radio
When you feel like everyone
Is playing the devil
When you feel you are going
Out of your mind
And feel inclined
To go out and do some sowing
When life has brought you
All lemons, no lemonade
When nothing makes any sense
I've been there too
When there seems to be
Nobody around
Not even a sound
It gets hard to see
Though know that moments
Are only still
And you find within yourself
A symphonic thrill
The Pharmacist
My pharmacist
Is Abayda
Muslim gerl
Takes a twirl
Lovely Abayda
Gets my pills
On time
Wish that she
Was mine
Gorgeous Abayda
Sweet Muslim
Gerl
Head in
A twerl
Oh Abayda
Tradition dress
Never a mess
Hear it for
Beautiful Abayda
Always my friend
I say
Peace Be Upon You
Sweet Abayda
The Bum's Rush
Did you
Get it?
Saiddit
The Rush
Up yer
Bum
Hardly
Fun
Adorable
Got
Pinched
Ouch!
Surprise
In eyes
It came
For true
Hardly sit
On it
You know
Bum's Rush
Every Word
Every word
She says
I hang
Upon
My woman
friend
For love
is Anon
Trust given
All weight
Gone now
Oh how
Soul mate
not too
late
Take a
bow
Love
Oh how
So
So
this is
it
What
you
may
wonder
Is
going
on
Well
It
Is
You
Driving
Me
Around
The
Bend
Again
EXISTENTIAL GAG: I think, therefore I am a lunatic
copyright dewyswriter 2025



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