The Jovial Writer

The Unsinkable Cat My fourteen-year-old owner, Esmeralda Berkley, is an heiress. She has always lived a life of luxury, but despite it all, she is kind and loving. Her parents try not to deny her, because she seldom asks for anything extravagant. When there was news of the world’s best ship setting sail to the Americas, Esmeralda made a rare request to go. Her family talked about it and decided they would send her with her friend Rose Bukater. Rose was getting married in America, and Esmeralda was to return home after the wedding. I am Esmeralda’s favourite pet. Granted, I am her only pet, but she loves me very much. I am a fluffy ginger cat, sprightly on my feet and very huggable. Esmeralda wanted to take me with her so her parents convinced the Captain to let me on. The day the Titanic was to set sail, my tail was twitching. It was a bad sign and I tried to tell Esmeralda. It was futile, because she was in love with ship already. “Oh Ginger,” she exclaimed. “Look how grand it

  Gifted “Kyle, take the new girl in your team.” said Julien bossily. “Why should I? You take her.” retorted Kyle. For a couple of ten year olds they were very opinionated. “I already have Snot Face and Computer Geek on my team.” said Julien firmly. “We all want a fair match and it’s only right if New Girl is in your team.” Kyle looked at Julien’s team of nine kids with varying degrees of athletism and sighed. “Fine.” he said turning to look directly at me. He walked up to me and said commandingly. “You are on my team. Now listen to the rules.” I didn’t like Kyle. He was mean, but then again, he took me on his team. It’s not like the new kid ever has a choice. I mean if they did, why would a new kid ever choose to be a new kid in the first place? “Can you kick?” Kyle asked, rudely dragging me to stand with his team, far away from Julien. I shook my head in response to his question. He sighed and I could tell he was disappointed. “Can you catch?” he asked hopefully. He looked different

A lyrical genius, musician King Charles combines happy tones and melodies to bring forth a wonderful song. At first listen King Charles takes us on a gentle journey of words and in a subsequent listen it feels as though we belong in the world that is created.  Track number 3 of his 2011 debut album Loveblood, the buzzing happy tune paints a picture and tells a story. Producer Mathew Wilder adds a unique touch to an otherwise almost acoustic performance. While it has been many years since the song has released, I stumbled upon an extended version on YouTube that has a few more verses. As a writer myself, I adore words of any kind and an extra verse upon one of my favourite songs is delightful to find. The song may seem long in its 3 minutes and 59 seconds, at first glance, however, one quickly forgets the time as the song picks up speed around the 36th second mark. The first half of the song is peppy and a song to a lover, where they use similes and juxtapose words to show one's lov

Smile when it's hard Like a child you seem not to care nor know, of how horrid people can be. you believe in beauty and love, kindness and occassional levity. I ask you  about the devastation and anguish that lurks behind the very eyes  that have seen it all. You answer with gentle pause, that everything - is but a glimpse, of who we were or might be one day, or that which we already are .

Sancastles and Football “Will you play in the sandbox with me?” she requests, offering me an extra tiny pink pail. Her eyes are chocolate brown and her smile is infectious. I am about to say yes. But she’s a girl . She obviously has cooties . Of course I don ’ t like her. “No.” I say instead and run off to play football with my older brothers. But when I reach, my brothers say I’m too young to play and only use me to bring back balls that fly out of the playground. It’s boring, and not as fun as building sandcastles. But at least, I am playing with boys . We don’t have cooties. My oldest brother is the meanest and he kicks the hardest. I hate it when he kicks because I have to run all the way to the end of the park to retrieve the football. Sure enough, he sends the ball soaring across the playground. My middle brother looks at me expectantly and gestures towards the ball. “I’ll get it.” I say and rush off to look for the ball. My brother may have sent the ball to another galaxy, be