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Merry Christmas Reading

Merry Christmas Reading

Stories for children and young at heart adults

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Aliens Landed in Ballykilduff

Aliens landed in Ballykilduff,

Aliens landed; that is a fact,

In the dark of the night it happened, it did,

At the end of my garden they landed, then hid.

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Christmas is Coming…

Christmas is Coming (the goose is getting fat)

 

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where you can purchase my eBooks

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The Brains of Branson

  Pumpkin Heads, at the Crazymad Writer's blog

The Brains of Branson

If I had the brains of Branson

His guile, ambition and throw,

I might be up there with him,

With an empire of my own,

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I might be sitting there pretty,

With the whole world at my feet,

With nothing at all to worry about,

My life would be complete.

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But I’m not up there with him,

‘Cos my vision was slightly askew,

Seeing things that bit differently,

My off was later, it’s true,

But now that I’ve seen that vision,

The route where my destiny lies,

I am catching up fast with him,

Make some room ‘cos I’ve nearly arrived!

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where you can purchase my eBooks,

 

 
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Posted by on October 24, 2013 in Stories for children

 

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The Witches

The Witches

It began one cold winter’s night, with the appearance of three witches flying around my bed on their broomsticks…

You may well ask, ‘Is this just another one of your fantasy stories, like so many others you have penned?’ My answer, the only thing I can say to you by way of reply, is read this story and find out for yourself…

CONTD

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Click HERE to be transferred to my online book shop,

where you can purchase my eBooks.

 
 

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Aliens Landed in Ballykilduff

Another great eBook

by The Crazymad Writer

Aliens landed in Ballykilduff,

Aliens landed; that is a fact,

In the dark of the night it happened, it did,

At the end of my garden they landed, then hid.

Chapter One

 

I was lying in bed, sleeping soundly one night, when something, a noise outside my bedroom widow woke me with a start. Sitting up in bed, I said, “What on earth was that?” However, despite listening intently I heard nothing else. Lying down again, I pulled the bed clothes tightly around me. “Brrr,” I said, shivering from the cold, “it feels more like winter than summer.” Pulling the bed clothes higher around me, I said, “This global warming thing, they keep telling us about, sure is cold.” With those words on my lips I fell fast asleep.

A few minutes the same noise woke me again. Rubbing my sleepy eyes, I said, “What on earth can it be?” Sitting up, I yawned, trying to figure it out. Scratching my head, I leaned over to the clock. Grabbing hold of it, I gazed it the dial. “It’s a quarter to four!” I grizzled. Scratching my head some more, I said, “Whoever is making that noise could have picked a better time in which to do it.”

Then I heard it again; the same noise, followed by the sound of banging and hammering. “Surely the neighbours aren’t fixing their car at this ungodly hour!” I groaned. “It has been giving them some trouble of late, but fixing it now, at a quarter to four in the morning, is going too far, so it is!”

The banging and hammering noises grew steadily louder. “It can’t be them, can it?” I growled. Getting out of bed, I shuffled across to the window. Pulling the curtains apart, I gazed outside, to their back garden. It was shrouded in darkness. “Well, it certainly ain’t them,” I said thankfully, “unless they can see in the dark.” Abandoning the curtain, I returned to bed.

I had only just laid my head on the pillow when the banging and hammering started again. Jumping out of bed, I groaned, “Will someone please tell me what is going on around here?”

Awakening from her slumbers, my wife, Breda, said, “What are you doing, Gerrard, standing at the end of the bed, ranting like a mad man?”

“I am sorry,” I answered. “I didn’t mean to awaken you.”

“Well, you did a good job of doing it,” she sarcastically replied. “What has you so worked up, anyhow?” she asked.

“It’s that noise,” I told her.

“Noise – what noise?”

“It was there a minute ago – honest it was.”

“Well, it’s not now!” she snapped. “Come to bed. You were probably having a dream.”

“More like a nightmare,” I grumbled. Approaching the widow, I pulled back the curtain, hoping to see the perpetrator going about his foul business. However, our garden, like our neighbour’s was shrouded in darkness.

“Forget about it,” Breda said to me. “On the morrow, we will go outside and see if anything is amiss. Meanwhile, get into bed lest you catch your death of cold!”

“Global warning, they keep telling us,” I said, grumbling about the weather.

“I’ll ‘global warming’ you if you don’t hush up and let me sleep!” she answered.

Suddenly, as I was letting go of the curtain an extraordinary bright flash outside secured my undivided attention.

CONTD

Click HERE to be transferred to my online book shop,

where you can purchase my eBooks.

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Time Does Not Exist

Time Does Not Exist

Time does not exist…

Ah, but here’s the twist,

It’s always NOW.

 No before or then,

No happy ever after,

For mice and men.

It’s NOW,

It has always been NOW,

Before and after,

Is just a silly dream.

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Stories for children and young at heart adults

by The Crazymad Writer – ARRRGH!

 
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Posted by on October 13, 2013 in Stories for children

 

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Paint The Roses, Quickly, Quickly!

Paint The Roses, Quickly, Quickly!

Hurry – hurry!

The Queen is coming!

Paint the roses, quickly, quickly.

Hurry – HURRY!

I hear her creeping,

As ever faster my heart is beating!

Sorry – sorry!

We’ve failed our duty,

The Queen has seen us, sadly, badly!

Hurry – HURRY!

We must scamper,

Lest our heads with them she tampers!

HURRY – OH HURRY!

(There is no hurry),

Our heads were targeted; we’re lost; they’ve parted.

All is calm.

 

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Conkers Bonkers

Click HERE to be transferred to my online book shop,

where you can purchase my eBooks.

Conkers is a pastime,

That we remember every year,

When September comes we search about,

To find these gems, so rare.

And when we’ve collected bagfuls,

Enough for you and me,

We rush them home to sort and grade,

Into classes one to three.

The first we use immediately,

To try our luck at play,

The second, we treat, cure and bake,

Into champions, I do say.

The third we leave for a whole year long,

Lodged in the chimney flue,

Until their day of glory comes,

I’ll make do with grades one and two.

 

 
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Posted by on October 13, 2013 in Stories for children

 

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