between the two world wars
hustle and bustle
and open doors

The old walled city
of a thousand minarets
about the great Citadel
of so very few regrets

Sublime Islamic creations
upon which greedy eyes must feast
tobacco burning in a sheesha
the naïve one will get fleeced

Pickpockets and charlatans
the thrill of both threat and romance
Heaven there and Hell as well
the humility of the dervish dance

Backgammon and dominoes
within the ancient bazaar
a beauty from England’s shires in
The Ambassador’s open top car

Just a discreet driver and Matilda
a governmental spouse
on her way to a clandestine meeting up
with yours truly in a squalid mud brick house

I am the black sheep of the Empire
the one that got away
she is mine tonight and most nights
for I have led the gal astray

Such is the power of lust
to entice Matilda so very bored
anxious to embrace intimacy
away from the prying eyes of her Lord
and Master, the top envoy
and thus she seeks my bed
who am I to refuse her
or the sustenance of fresh flesh over flat bread?

Of course the affair was temporary
it well suited us both that way
ripped clothes, a mattress on the floor
me the hunter she the prey

Gossip and rumours did for us
and as such she falls from grace
for my part I shall do a runner
thus helping her save face

Traders banter, traders barter
selling all there is to sell
steeped black tea with sugar cane
Cairo, I bid my sad farewell

blue eyed cat full print cover

Herewith the ‘Blurb’ for my new book, a fictional story entitled ‘The Blue-Eyed Cat’;
‘A book of mind boggling time-travel, feverish sex, syrupy romance, ho hum history, a dark future, The Moon, Constantinople, Paris and Berlin, human consciousness, infinity, a tongue in cheek take on all things carnal, art for art’s sake and three thoroughly mad yet oh so delightful gals’

Should it take your fancy it can be found at;
I am not entirely sure of other Amazon global links and thus I apologize for not revealing them here. However, were you interest in this book a search on local Amazon using my name should suffice.



    1. Cheers, Ms S. Shamefully in these last 3 years I’ve only mamaged to read four books in total…one of which was yours, a book since leant to a gal from the Midlands who when visiting spotted the cover. Insisting she had read you previously she asked to borrow it as romance was her genre. Some weeks later during a phone call she sung of the virtues of said book but yet has to return it. I shall have to kill her, of course.

      1. I was at odds to explain to her that I care much for my collection of books by others who I’ve met on WP. Over the years I’ve built, albeit small, maybe a dozen books, perhaps 15, a collection that means something to me. I shall probably not kill her but wish people would return what they have borrowed…most likely because I’m a miserable old sod!

      2. I never lend books for that reason. the Mr buys tons and tons whereas I only buy as keepers. There is something about books that seems to make people feel there is no need to give them back.

      3. That is so true. I recall years back our then dog nibbled at the spine of my Simon Mawer book The Glass Room. It wasn’t ruined, yet as the best read ever…subjective, of course…I just had to buy another copy much to Shirl’s bewilderment.

      4. That is akin to my early addition of The House at Pooh Corner. Battered and beaten I shall never bin it. I particularly liked the map of Hundred Acre Wood. That’s how old I am!

  1. This is a passionate and steamy tale , it’s my desire to visit the infamous yet sadly deserted mud brick house. I wonder if it still stands and the lovers too. Take care young Mike. Another delightful look to the past.

    1. Worry not, young Holly. I still, even after all these years, keep the mud brick house as a holiday home. Matilda never did take to it. A dusty floor you see. The poor gal had to wear slippers when there. Slippers, to Matilda were a no, no…‘a lack of panache’ I recall her saying. Regardless, I’ll send the chaps who pilot my Dakota over to your place and drop you off in Cairo…my place is just off The Citadel. Should you get lost just ask the one eyed snake charmer…you can’t miss him on account of his limp and amazing earlobes…and he’ll show you the way. Regards, The Old Fool

      1. ‘Tis not occupied save for yours truly. I’ve already donned my fez, my monocle and dressed in the old smoking jacket, ear trumpet at the ready, a chilled bottle of bubbly at my side, my Havana still not lit.

      2. I await your arrival, young Holly. It’s a great pity Rick Blaine never had need of an ear trumpt. Otherwise I could immitate him and your arrival would be the moment I’ve craved for all my life, a ‘Casablanca’ moment. Never mind. I get around the city in my trusty Bath chair. I just need a willing soul to push it.

      3. Do your best , if not too exhausted I will push you about and together we can visit the markets. My ship the Queen Mary is listing so I may be late, don’t give up on me.

      4. Hell’s bells. A listing Queen Mary, no less. As I understand it my Aunt Maud, a goliath of a woman… who favours a multiplicity of clotted cream buns over a simple undressed salad…is journeying on the self-same vessel. You must advise the captain that Aunt Maud be moved to an owner’s suite midship on deck 5 as a matter of grave urgency for the ‘listing’ is of her making…just as it was on the Titanic!
        I trust you will arrive in Cairo none the worse from the North Atlantic experience.

      5. Dear Mike, Aunt Maud was discovered having a noon day nap on the port bow and hastily moved to deck 5 midship as you advised righting the vessel avoiding a capsize. I’m told Liquor is taboo in Cairo so my stay shall be short.

      6. Thank the Lord, Aunt Maud got moved to a safer environment for one and all. She’s more ballast than she is lifebuoy.
        Worry not, I have membership of the good old Gezira Sporting Club for British Officers since the beginning of time. Jolly fine grub and all the tipples anyone could wish for…that’s where I chanced upon wretched Matilda, if the truth be told.

      7. But for your warning we would all be sleeping with the fishes right now. The adjustment went smoothly, Aunt Maud slept peacefully though out the location change, muttering but once “where is the bar”. Cheers to you and the Gezira Sporting Club, I shall prepare to stay on a few days.

      8. I think of camels often…in a good way, I stress. I thought you may like to flit across the desert sands and visit the pyramids? I shall ensure your safety carrying with me on this occasion my famous old blunderbuss. I still have regrets having lost Svetlana to the slavers when last crossing said desert. What a to-do! I understand she fetched a good price at the market in Constantinople, and plainly I cannot allow the wayward Arabs a repeat performance. At least she was in good form sending me a postcard advising me that life with The Ottoman sultan is a million times more exciting than the tedium of living with me. The cheek of it!

      9. Shockingly cheeky! You’d think you deliberately sold her into slave labor. I’m afraid I won’t have time to trek over to the pyramids. Don’t misconstrue that as any lack of confidence in you and your Blunderbuss. Till soon, we’re pulling into port.

      10. Sorry I didn’t get back to you on this thread. I’ve been all the place these last couple of days, young Holly. I’ve been enjoying them immensely. The thought did strike me that they’d likely make for a super blog post. Say, a story told in translated Morse code? There really is a classic Twattersly Fromage tale here…he’s my useless alter ego and his stories always end with him losing out to the victorious gals, saying, ‘I left…wherever it was she had been living or staying at…a broken man’. What do you think? I could turn these exchanges twixt the pair of us into one such story…with credits all round. Worry not should you think this a rubbish idea.

      11. I would love that Mike. Our adventures would surely amuse the sane.

        I must say it has been a bumpy boat ride and should be shared. Aunt Maud has come to…awakened… and the entire crew has gathered in an effort to hoist her onto the lift. Don’t give up on me, I shall arrive by camel near sundown.
        Hopefully the den will still be open for business.

      12. Jolly dee. Then we’re on a roll!
        Do take care when it comes to puritanical Aunt Maud. She has an annoying habit of chaperoning gals journeying alone. Her devout lifetime quest…when not filling her face with Black Forest gâteau…to ensure that such gals who are under her wing remain celibate at all costs. Then there’s the camels to think of. A sizeable woman…some local rascals steal her knickers from her washing line to go hang gliding with…I fear should she get within a hundred yards of a camel that said camel would no longer sport its hump. Best you try and avoid her henceforth. That said, I await your arrival. Fond regards, Twattersley

      13. Aunt Maud has slept most of the way, I had nothing to do with that, though it has made the trip more enjoyable for me and some of the crew. Don’t imagine me a disheveled strumpet, heaven forbid. I shall arrive prim and proper. As for Aunt Maud, I have arranged a lift to heave her upon a camel hair tent strung between two of the largest bulls available. I am growing weary Twattersley, I look forward to our reunion.

      14. Hell’s bells, does this mean the old boot is heading this way? Can you not point her in the direction of the Indian sub-continent? At least there the camels of Egypt will be unharmed, for in India, the jewel in the Empires crown, there are elephants rides aplenty available to one and all…even Maud…at very keen prices.
        There’s no ruling that demands you make your entrance prim and proper; the elan of seductive dishevelment works for me, it always has. And please do not grow weary. My muscular, giant African manservants do a wonderful job fanning gal visitors with ostrich feathers I’m told…personally I’ve never got my head around it but for reasons unknown you gals swear by them.
        Regardless, do try you level best to rid yourself of Aunt Maud, for with her in the vicinity there would be little scope for romance.
        The wait has been too long. Travel safe. Kisses from Cairo, Your Humble Servant, Twattersley

      15. Dear Twattersley, my spirits were lifted profoundly by your wire. By a stroke of good fortune ( bless the púca) I was able to separate myself from Aunt Maud, disposing of her as we made our way through the market. The last I saw she was entangled among the head scarves at the Hijab bazaar as I made my escape. Glorious scarves they were too, I purchased several and some spice scented candles anticipating our rendezvous. I hope you don’t find me forward but I must admit the mention of the African man-servants perked me up, I do love a good fanning. Expect me by midnight at the latest, the desert is especially difficult to traverse in this altered state of anticipation. Yours….

      16. It seems good fortune is on our side save for a small errand I must undertake for Her Majesty. She requires my presence for just a day or two at Buckingham Palace in order that I brief her as to the pitiful plight of the polar bears of the desert. Rest assured I shall return with haste. In the meantime I have instructed my brawny man servant Kayode to attend to your every need. He’s a decent sort and will certainly give you a good fanning while you’re lying supine upon a deck chair under the midday sun. Worry not that he dons just a loin cloth…unless the heat is too much cope with, then best close your eyes! Others speak well Kayode. I recall Matilda once saying that he was ‘a bit of a handful’ although she never did elucidate further. Even after spending three days and nights in her quarters with him she spoke little of what they got up to. When she did finally make her presence known to me it was a ‘grinning like a Cheshire Cat’, Matilda who advised that she was off to bed, to sleep for the foreseeable future, saying, ‘I am so, so worn out…catch up with you later, Twatto’. To the best of my knowledge they’d been playing one hell of game of chess for she then took a deep breath and gently sighed as she added, ‘It felt like I was his Queen, and he my chivalrous Knight, oh that he might whisk me away on his stallion.’ All innocent fun I feel sure. Nevertheless, Matilda is history now and I can barely wait to be at your side. My Love Assured, Twattersley

      17. My dear Twatto, of course I am disappointed that our reunion must be postponed but when her majesty calls…well, there is little choice. The polar bears are at the top of the list of concerns for the Royals these days. Meanwhile, I will make myself comfortable with the assistance of Kayode, you are too kind to make special arrangements to distract my longing to lay eyes upon you once again. I am running rather low on funds, forgive me for burdening you but might you be able to forward a quid, express post please. Looking forward…..

      18. You’re shy of a few spondoolies? Worry not. I’ve left a worthy sum in golden guineas under my pillow. Help yourself at will…perhaps better put ‘help yourself as the fancy takes’ as Will is another of my manservants. We don’t want things to get complicated do we? Besides Will spends most of his time with the chamber maids for reasons I’ve never quite understood. As to Kayode, he seems rather chuffed at the prospect of taking you to new places you’ve never been before. Only this very morn did he cast his eyes upon the treasured photo of you I keep in my bedside cabinet at all times. He remarked to me that for you he would be sure to keep on top of everything while I’m away. He’s a decent sort. He added that you can look forward to your short time with him as he’ll ensure that it will be full of vim and vigour…such a trustworthy chap. So loyal I feel I could trust him with both my daughter…if I had one…and my wallet.
        I shall be with you again in two moons time. I can barely cope with the wait. So soon, so soon we’ll be together

      19. I will miss you until you return from Buckingham Palace but I shall think of you every waking moment. I’ve was waylaid by a trickle of intrepid travelers and presently find myself in the heart of old Cairo completely lost dear Twatts and without a quid in my pocket, but don’t be concern, I will get by and soon be back on track. Your gift left under the pillow is most appreciated and you shall be rewarded.
        It would be wise to allow Will to assist in my accommodation (surely the chambermaids would be of help to me as well) without you there I’m afraid Kayode will not be able to take care of all of my immediate needs. In two moons….swoon.

      20. Oh do remember the one eyed snake charmer with the limp and amazing earlobes who hangs out at the bazaar close to the Citadel. He’ll show you the way. Just let the old boy know that I’ll bung him a few quid upon my return. Presently I swimming back to Cairo…Her Majesty took a liking to my aeroplane hence I gifted it to her. What else could a loyal subject do? Already I’ve left behind The Bay of Biscay; the Straits of Gibraltar and am presently on the island that is Malta. It is from here I send you this message. I anticipate I’ll be with you within just a few hours’ time…my backstroke is swift and like no other.
        Since reading your own message I’ve already been in contact with Will. It is thus that in the meantime he will be the chosen one and chaperone you on my behalf. He makes claim to have a better backstroke than I. Personally I can’t see that as he cannot swim. When he said, ‘I bet my front crawl and breaststroke are also better than yours, just ask the chambermaids’ I took the view he was merely joshing with me. Will is a bit of a wit most times!
        So soon, so very soon we shall be together. Yours for eternity, Twattersley

      21. Malta! How exciting, however I am concerned you will exhaust your backstroke, I hope it is not too swift. I have a bad feeling about this. Just as you predicted upon finding the one eyed snake charmer hanging about the Citadel he has agreed to guide me but very insistent on assurance that he will be compensated. I was able to assure him in less than an hour and we are on our way. The bloody gall of Will to challenge your backstroke in such a way, not even able to swim. I will be sure to put the lie to his swaggering braggadocio, let the chambermaids bear witness. Waiting patiently, hopefully not for eternity.

      22. I can confirm that, as of now, I’m merely 10 miles from Cairo. Thank the Lord for dry land at last. Regrettably, I did have an altercation with great white shark just off the coast near Tripoli. The beast nearly severed my arm. Luckily, good fortune smiled when a local fish gutter, noting my plight said she would give my appendage a jolly good seeing to and fashioned for me a sling. ‘Twas that that delayed my arrival for with just the one viable arm I spent a considerable period of time swimming in circles. Once I’d got the knack all was well. As of now, with blisters on my right foot, I am hopping my way, ever forward across the cruel desert sands. Rest assured that we will be together within the hour. My how I pray that nought else blights my path to paradise.

      23. My poor darling, do take your time, we are holding our own here, however difficult it is without you. Bless the kind fish gutter for tending your appendage, such kindness! You could always overcome the cruelest of obstacles, we must try to my brave dear Twatts, I feel certain that we will find something to replace your missing appendage. I must close and hastily arrange our abode for your homecoming, thankfully walls cannot talk, you would not want to hear the wails and moans of grieving your absence has wrought. Smiling through the tears I await your arrival.

      24. My telescope tells no lies. ‘Tis you I see in the distance and what do I spy? From my vantage point it would appear you are locked in the loving embrace of Will, my manservant. Many a chap would be disheartened at such a sight. Not me though. I well recall long gone Matilda and Will in a similar…to ignorant eyes, that is.. romantic clinch. However and as I suspect the view I’m getting through my lens is, just as it was with Matilda, nought but an act of chivalry on Will’s part. With Matilda and Will I was given to understand that the poor gal had a lozenge fixed firm in her windpipe and Will saved her from choking to death using just the tip of his tongue thus allow her to breath once more. I recall at the time one of my many chambermaids passing by mentioned she thought me, ‘A sucker if you believe that load of tosh.’ I had to remind the gal that I never suck my lozenges, preferring to bite instead. Yes it’s caused me a few lost teeth such is the density of the average lozenge, yet it is of my choice.
        Now lightning strikes twice. Perhaps I should never have left the strawberry lozenges at my bedside. Still, it matters not a jot. I am merely a stone’s throw away my sweetheart. I shall be tapping you on the shoulder any minute now, forever thanking Will for saving the very being of the gal I love.

      25. Cough, cough, were it not for Will I would surely have choked but I am deliriously joyed to learn you are within a stone’s throw. I had no idea you had binoculars. I think I hear you tapping now, I’m coming my love.

      26. Gosh Holly, we are now perilously close to the end game. I shall reply to your latest edition tomorrow after a jolly good think. You have played this game with panache. I do believe that tarted up a little in terms of just layout upon a post we’ve a fine blog here. The very fact you’ve taken your own lead and not once come back to me re the Twattersley Fromage template I’ve worked too for over two dozen skits truly earns my respect. You see, you are a proper writer…one who does it herself in her own way; one who doesn’t take metaphorical prisoners. How I play my next card will leave you at a crossroad and I can hardly wait to see which sign you follow. Should it help, here’s the link to my last Twatto skit…no need to read the whole damn piece, more the ending. Forever, Twatto loses the gals to another and finishes with the ‘…broken man’ tag…yet nothing is forever.
        As mentioned, tomorrow I shall reply. Best of regards, The Old, Most Impressed, Fool

      27. Dear Twa….Mike, I’ve had such fun with this. Laughed out loud many times at on lookers dismay and wonder. If you must be the broken man I shall follow with remorse. Tis’ the end we come to, but wasn’t it all along. Cheers my friend!

      28. It was the glimpse of bare ankle that did it for me…set my heart beating, my pulse racing. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a glimpse of gal with a pulse, yet there she was as lovely as ever. What a corker of a gal and so soon to be mine all mine. So innocent; so pure, one can fully understand why she is the sought after muse for nude painters of New York, Paris and beyond. I did once ask her why it was the painters took their kit off when capturing her image on canvass. With that adorable quizzical look on her face she answered, “They do what?” after which she shook her head and got lost in a trinity of what were surely lovey-dovey sighs.
        Yes, she was still in the arms of Will, locked in what others…abject fools the lot of them…might think a loving embrace. I knew better though. It was clear that the poor gal still had that damn lozenge stuck in her windpipe and Will was merely helping remove it. I thought to myself that this was my time, hence I shall take over where Will left off and save her very being…after all my tongue is longer than Will’s. I’ll have that lozenge dealt with in a jiffy. It was with that in mind I gently tapped the gal I love upon the shoulder, she immediately unfastened herself from Will turned about face, smiled as only she can smile and spoke words of romantic liaison that would change my life forevermore…words I would never forget.

      29. At last, dearest paramour, I’ve waited patiently for your arrival. Seems a fortnight since you promised your return but finally here you are tapping my shoulder. I have chased Will away with his own fan. I’m aghast that he would take advantage of a poor girl pining away for her distant love. I’ve scoured my limbs for feathers and hiked my skirt just a tad to show a bit of ankle, the least I could do at the end of your long and treacherous journey to join me.. Come dear Twatts, let us begin our long awaited liaison as soon as you catch your breath.

      30. Well Holly, your latest comment is perfection itself. Forever, poor Twatto, without fail, loses the gal to another. Not this time. Oh no, the only way he can lose your gal is through his own stupidity and what I particularly loved is that you have given subtle scope for such stupidity…genius. The gal is his…or is she? What could possibly go wrong?…If you are good with this being the ending then I’ll set to work producing a blog. If not, than we take it a few steps further but I think Twatto’s last words speak for themselves!
        “My life so often sabotaged, the love of many a prospective inamorata within reach, yet stolen away from me at the last minute in just the blink of a notorious rakes roving eye. It has been a curse I’d come to reluctantly accept. Yet now my time…our time…has arrived. Bloody Will can go forth and multiply for you are my gal. To discover there was no lozenge impaled within your trachea a blessing. Even so I think it for the best I no longer favour the impervious lozenge over Belgium chocolates. For you my love, nothing short of the best. I am minded to smother you all over in such sweet fondant and say goodbye to lozenges forever…I should qualify that saying only if you have no cocoa allergy. So many times I have been left bereft as yet another gal slips through my hands as time upon time I have found myself broken-hearted only able to say, “She left me a broken man.” Not this time though…not this time my sweetheart of the sensual bare ankle. This time I’ll say and do all the right things thus bonding the pair of us forevermore. Just one impassioned hurdle to jump. You see, I never did catch your name.”

      31. I adore the strawberry lozenges and have become quite addicted, how clumsy of me to choke , I do feel you should keep Will on out of gratitude. I love a happy ending as you know dear Twatto, from here on the world is our oyster. Forever, Rosebud. 🌹

      32. Brilliant. I never expected that, young Holly. A gal’s prerogative way outside of Twatto’s template comfort zone…you’ve nailed it. This is new territory, a good thing as I have to come up with a riposte. I’m loving Rosebud. The wild rose from The New Lands of America, not the swoony English boring counterpart. A Harry and Megan equivalent perhaps? I’m off for a jolly good think, and express my thanks. I shall return asap. Regards, The Old Fool

      33. How could I be such a fool. There was I thinking that sweet Rosebud was hankering to be smothered in Belgium chocolate when all along ‘twas strawberry lozenges she craved to be covered in. To make due amends I sent a maid out to purchase any amount of those strawberry beauties she could find. Armed with vast quantities I sought to smother sweet Rosebud only to find that with the lozenge it was more of a balancing act than a good old fashioned smother. Still, patience prevailed. The plus was the magic of the sun’s own rays glinting off each and every lozenge creating a multitude of strawberry coloured shadows upon our bedroom wall. The minus, the fact that the maid had bought sugar-free lozenges. It was only after the event when I had romantically, nay erotically, scoffed the lot from about her personage that I was to discover that the lozenge sweeteners contained a cocktail of isomalt, lactic acid, sodium lactate, and sucralose…in short the most effective laxative known to mankind. I shall say no more upon the subject!
        She was so very excited to learn she and I would soon be travelling the globe visiting each of the seven wonders of the world. While I took to my office to plan the itinerary, sweet Rosebud passed her time with Will. A good chap all told. Together they play tennis, badminton, squash, table tennis, snooker and some form of poker I’ve never heard of, along with afternoon visits to the lake for a swim. That she has no swimming costume to the best of my knowledge I find a little odd and assume she merely bares those lovely ankles paddling rather than swimming.
        Sweet Rosebud has suggested that Will accompany us on our grand tour of the planet. As she rightly put it, “He can do all the humping.” What a jolly fine idea as I loath carrying suitcases and am well aware that Will humps like no other.
        Life has become a dream I don’t want to end. Sweet Rosebud is an angel and at last I have found true love. It is good to know that despite all my millions that sweet Rosebud loves me for who, rather than what, I am.

      34. I thought you’d changed your mind and opted for the joys of the strawberry lozenge, sweet Rosebud, yet as ever, a gal’s prerogative to change her mind wins the day. I shall ensure you have all the Belgium chocolates you desire as we travel to and from The Seven Wonders of the World. Just think, Catacombs of Kom el Shoqafa, Rome’s very own Colosseum, the Great Wall of China, Hagia Sophia…whomsoever she might be…in Constantinople, the Leaning Tower of Pisa, the Porcelain Tower of Nanjing and…I must admit this one has never been to my liking ever since a surly Druid made fun of Her Majesty, the swine….Stonehenge, all chocolate friendly destinations. Our journeying begins come morn. I shall be flying the new Dakota. The only issue outstanding the thus far are the misplaced parachutes. I can’t for the life of me fathom what I done with the damn things. Still, we have umbrellas aplenty. They could be of worthy use in a crisis. Until tomorrow my darling gal.

      35. I’m excited beyond words dear Twattersley, perhaps you could send Will and I ahead to ready our lodgings at the Catacombs. Please bring as much Belgium Chocolate as you can carry aboard the Dakota, perhaps attach it to it’s own umbrella, just a suggestion.
        Your darling gal.

      36. What a spiffingly sound plan sweet Rosebud. I shall flit over to Belgium in the aeroplane and gather up all the choc I can muster and catch up with you both at the Catacombs. Sterling stuff for sure. I feel you’ll love this little treat I have planned for you. You see I’ve just this minute I booked your travel upon the luxury steam engine in ‘first class’…we can’t have you hanging out with all the plebs can we! The first class carriages included a private bathroom, all the bubbly you can drink, devine cuisine, a deluxe lounge and a super king size bed, no less. Regrettably, there was just the carriage available, yet I feel sure Will will not mind sleeping on the floor…all things said, he’s only a manservant. See you at the Catacombs asap, Yours for eternity, Twatto

      37. Dearest Twatto. To have found you is a true serendipity! First class on a luxury steam liner, my heart bursts with gratitude. You are so thoughtful of my comforts. I am a bit fussy regarding cuisine, I do hope my dining expectations can be obliged. Call ahead so that the head chef is well prepared with lobster bisque , pate, and caviar. The finest champagne of course.
        Whatever Will is charged to do he does so with a smile, a loyal man servant indeed. Until we reunite at the catacombs, my second encounter with a world wonder! Yours forever. Rosebud.

      38. Well young Holly I’d hate to play chess with you…I mean that in a good way. You’re that clever that every time I predict what’s coming next, I’m completely wrong. Loving it, I might add. That is the way it should be of course as your latest reply confirms. I’m also loving the fact that Twatto is now so out of his depth as Rosebud takes subtle control of the relationship. I need to pop out for morning coffee and have a jolly good think. He’s certainly in check, so soon I suspect, in checkmate! I shall return later.

      39. Bolly galore…only the best bubbly for you my dear…plus the king of the crustaceans of course. It has to be the Breton lobster no less and regal caviar all the way from Mother Russia. All have been ordered with just you in mind. Oh that I could scoff along with you. Still, I’m on my way with more choc than you could shake a stick at. Catacombs here I come. Presently I am in the eye of an electric storm somewhere over The Pyrenees so ‘tis a tad wobbly up here in the aeroplane, that’s for sure. A couple of pigeons have taken shelter on the starboard wing perilously close to the turbo prop and a desperate seagull is tapping his beak upon cockpit window blocking my view. Never mind, I been through worse. I do trust that Will is tending to your every need and that you don’t feel lonely in that mammoth bed. I shan’t be long, hang in there my lovely gal. Yours ‘till sun doesn’t shine, Twatto.

    1. My thanks. Velvet Underground’s artitic, gentle lunacy has forever appealed. Whether this song fitted the tale within my words I’m not sure, yet what the hell, it almost does. Regards, The Old Fool

    1. Cheers Syd. Jolly decent of you, Sir. Do brace yourself for the out of the ordinary. On a serious note, my thanks and I live in hope that you enjoy the read. Regards, The Old Fool

      1. That’s exactly what the first wife said to me on our wedding day! I live in dire hope the book’s reception surpasses that terrible day of yore. Once more my thanks, Syd

      1. No apology needed in the least! That is the problem with internet communication. I didn’t mean you were suggesting I didn’t like it. I was just emphasizing my like by saying it again. If we were talking to each other you would know by my enthusiasm that I was just re-iterating my response. You have a great day, too!

      2. Sincere thanks, kkessler. I would never, ever deliberately do anything that might offend a gal, ’tis not within my DNA. Best wishe, The Old Fool

  2. Hey Mike, I was sorry to hear you went down in a plane crash in Beetley Pete’s story.
    By the way, i love the title, “The Blue-Eyed Cat”!

  3. Ok, Mike the poem was great…AND a comment happened to catch my eye and i ended up reading the entire exchange betwixt you and Holly…Fabulous Fun 😀 You really should turn it into a post! ❤

  4. I want to say something about this poem, that I like.
    Let me see
    Velvet Underground has
    Distracted me
    Sweet to your poems bitter.
    I might not know what I’m talking about….. yet….

    1. My thanks, Resa. This verse was simply a bit of streotypical caddish fun…I agree the Velvet Underground number is a perfect distraction. I miss those few years when they were together making music that would, in part, change my entire life.

      1. Yes, Lou Reed the genius. I once had a fine vinyl collection. These days a similar iPod collection. My favourite album? ‘Magic & Loss’. The thing I particularly like about his work is that he doesn’t pull his punches hence he goes to places that other songwriters rarely…if ever…visit. I know well Walk on the Wild Side. Bowie’s…whose work I’m not that keen on…did a wonderful production for that whole Transformer album.

      2. Transformer is fab! I just checked out his discography. Boy did I ever miss out on a lot of his work. What was I listening to? Hair bands? Disco? Hard Rock for sure, and anything by Cher!

    1. You give me more praise than you should, young Ms Lee. I love Hercule Poirot on the TV…but only the episodes that do not include Captain Arthur J. M. Hastings, OBE. I cannot see how Hercule could put up with such a dull companion who adds nought to the story. No Hasting episodes and I’m glued to said TV. Regards, The Old Fool

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