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Laura Sheridan
Laura Sheridan

968 Followers

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Published in No Crime in Rhymin’

·Mar 11

The Ballad of Jan and Sly

an unlikely couple find love — I’ll tell you a heart-warming story which starts with Sylvester McRawn, he’d done time for breaking and entering, and lived in a bedsit, alone. He picked up a habit in prison and now he smokes twenty a day. …

Humor

2 min read

The Ballad of Jan and Sly
The Ballad of Jan and Sly
Humor

2 min read


Jan 18

I like your quirky sense of humour. Nice to have you back.

I like your quirky sense of humour. Nice to have you back.

1 min read

1 min read


Published in No Crime in Rhymin’

·Jan 18

After the War

A sonnet — And now, the dragons come, clouding the sky, Their leather wings gleam grey as molten lead, They screech and howl as overhead they fly, Swoop down, snatch-claw the bodies of the dead, And in the sea, Leviathan ploughs waves, Its mighty jaws encompass Spanish galleons, Yet now they swallow men in briny graves, Whose bones and flesh are fit only for carrion. Gigantic wurm-life creeps forth, sniffing blood, Their ring-toothed mouths in greediness devour Cold corpses in the sour sanguinous mud, And surely, this must be our darkest hour, For naught is left but broken stone and glass. Our sons and daughters curse us as they pass.

War

1 min read

After the War
After the War
War

1 min read


Published in No Crime in Rhymin’

·Jan 7

The Mad Ecologist’s Song

(with apologies to Lewis Carroll) — He thought he saw a seagull sitting 0n a rocky crag, he looked again and saw it was a wind-blown plastic bag, then thousands more along the shore — a flock of warning flags. He thought he saw a gathering of pretty floating birds, he looked again and saw it was a mass…

Pollution

1 min read

The Mad Ecologist’s Song
The Mad Ecologist’s Song
Pollution

1 min read


Jan 7

Salt at the Soupçon Café

and unrequited love — Darkday afternoon, when all is sleepiness, lights on at three, indoor headache. The café pours out golden light, a waft of rich blend raises the spirits. She comes here to meet him — wheat and rye hair and a scholar’s brain, but his commitment is not to her sex. Salt crystals spilled, gritty to her fingertips. On the street, umbrellas turn up like the frill of a ptarmigan’s tail; coat hems flap, heads bow to the wind, rain spatters the window.

Romance

1 min read

Salt at the Soupçon Café
Salt at the Soupçon Café
Romance

1 min read


Dec 25, 2022

Beautiful, Mabel.

Beautiful, Mabel. Peace and happiness to you and your loved ones today and have a wonderful Christmas x

1 min read

1 min read


Dec 25, 2022

Beautiful, Mabel. Peace and love to you and your family and have a wonderful Christmas x

Beautiful, Mabel. Peace and love to you and your family and have a wonderful Christmas x

1 min read

1 min read


Dec 11, 2022

‘Tis the Season

How do angels fit into the Christmas story? — In this season of wise men, donkeys and a bright star, one’s mind could turn to the subject of angles. Sorry — angels. Always get those two mixed up. Never was much good at trigonometry. Christmas, of course, is the time of Jesus’ birth. Except it isn’t. Some experts place…

Humor

3 min read

‘Tis the Season
‘Tis the Season
Humor

3 min read


Published in No Crime in Rhymin’

·Nov 11, 2022

Trench Life

Remembrance Day November 11th —

War

1 min read

Trench Life
Trench Life
War

1 min read


Published in No Crime in Rhymin’

·Nov 5, 2022

Lancashire Lyric

A tribute to my old home, in the north of England — Near the railing, by the water, where the narrow boats go by stands a mountain of a figure, chimney pointing to the sky. Stretching over in a handspan, iron girders net the air, bridging banks of littered crabgrass to the factories laid bare. …

Lancashire

4 min read

Lancashire Lyric
Lancashire Lyric
Lancashire

4 min read

Laura Sheridan

Laura Sheridan

968 Followers

I write to entertain, explain…and leave a tickle of laughter in your brain.

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