A NEW micro poem

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A NEW Micro Poem

Our fast-paced lives leave little time to contemplate. These Micro Moments are designed to entertain in a few words, read them slowly and savour the essence. Be they ordinary or remarkable, they are all special in their simplicity. I aim to share experiences, to recapture images the reader may already possess. Occasionally they are vents for frustration but mostly they are light-hearted whimsical wonders of life that bring delight.
Regards from the author, Paul Douglas Lovell.

A recycled moment

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A recycled moment.

Our fast-paced lives leave little time to contemplate. These Micro Moments are designed to entertain in a few words, read them slowly and savour the essence. Be they ordinary or remarkable, they are all special in their simplicity. I aim to share experiences, to recapture images the reader may already possess. Occasionally they are vents for frustration but mostly they are light-hearted whimsical wonders of life that bring delight.
Regards from the author, Paul Douglas Lovell.

Recycled moment

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A recycled moment.

Our fast-paced lives leave little time to contemplate. These Micro Moments are designed to entertain in a few words, read them slowly and savour the essence. Be they ordinary or remarkable, they are all special in their simplicity. I aim to share experiences, to recapture images the reader may already possess. Occasionally they are vents for frustration but mostly they are light-hearted whimsical wonders of life that bring delight.
Regards from the author, Paul Douglas Lovell.

A second sample of my work in progress

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Thought I’d brave another sample share… It is very much a work in progress (So.. go easy on it.) It hasn’t seen an editor.

Carole and Paul approach the door with apprehension, afraid one of her teenage sons will answer it and chase them away like beggars. It has never happened, yet the fear is always present. As they creep along her gravel driveway they huddled together like worried primates. A debate as to whom should press the door-bell, initiates a Hokey Cokey dance. In, out, in, out they step about the front door porch.  Today it is Carole who is first to shake off her qualms and the inevitable happens. Ding-dong the doorbell song echoes it’s hollow tune. Waiting patiently for a moment they guess that perhaps she hasn’t heard it, so try again. Speculating that maybe Mrs McGaveridge is outside in the back garden hanging out her laundry. This convinces them to press a third and then a forth time. With no response the dejected pair decide to try again later. Paul suggests that they wait over the nearby Rec, a playground area beside the graveyard. The Rec is limited when it comes to entertaining children. It has no swings, no slide and no see-saw. It does have two concrete playground tunnels. One reeks of urine the other is strewn with fleshy pages of top-shelf magazines and glass from broken bottles. The jungle-gym climbing frame does manage to occupy the pair for almost ten minutes as they swing about apelike. Moving on, they look ridiculously awkward ambling about the play area. Both hoping their twisted gait of crossed fingers, arms, legs and eyes though not quite toes will bring them some good luck. It isn’t long before these monkeying antics lead them to a crumbling corner of the playground’s surrounding wall. With assistance from a sturdy branch, they hoist themselves up, over and into the graveyard.

Careful not to tread on anybody’s grave they weave around the enormous stone crosses and statues, peering up into the eyes of winged angels hoping to witness them blink. They read the headstones of beloved wives, fathers, daughters and sons. Discover tiny new-born graves and old moss covered relics. Some are so ancient it is difficult to decipher the faded markings.

“Arr… look, this one’s got no flowers” Carole gazes down to an empty vessel on a neglected grave.

“Yeah… and that one there’s got loads” Paul points to a well maintained plot with potted plants and green glass fragments. Sympathy strikes them both and they begin a redistribution of what Paul interprets as wealth.

“No… you must only share the plastic ones.” Paul informs his sister as she reaches out to a fresh bloom.

“Yeah, cause them ones last longer doe they?” Carole adds.

“No…It ay stealin’ cause them only plastic and we’m just moving um.”  This makes perfect sense to Paul who guesses that God would also agree that these faded flowers have long served their purpose and therefore it is all right to share. They continue the mission with a sense righteous holiness, selecting, thanking and placing the blooms with words of endearment upon lonely resting places. Carole spies a sunken grave, cracked open with a gaping hole. The broken headstone bearing their own family name. Freaked out they run from the graveyard with muted terror. Only when they are back beyond the broken wall do they release their gasps. Emitting something between a laugh and a scream they nervously hug one another. Carole suggests that perhaps it belongs to their real dad and at home sits an impostor. Properly spooked a seed of doubt takes root.

Recycled moments

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A recycled moment.

Our fast-paced lives leave little time to contemplate. These Micro Moments are designed to entertain in a few words, read them slowly and savour the essence. Be they ordinary or remarkable, they are all special in their simplicity. I aim to share experiences, to recapture images the reader may already possess. Occasionally they are vents for frustration but mostly they are light-hearted whimsical wonders of life that bring delight.
Regards from the author, Paul Douglas Lovell.

A recycled haiku

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A recycled haiku.

Our fast-paced lives leave little time to contemplate. These Micro Moments are designed to entertain in a few words, read them slowly and savour the essence. Be they ordinary or remarkable, they are all special in their simplicity. I aim to share experiences, to recapture images the reader may already possess. Occasionally they are vents for frustration but mostly they are light-hearted whimsical wonders of life that bring delight.
Regards from the author, Paul Douglas Lovell.

Recycled Haiku

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A recycled haiku.

Our fast-paced lives leave little time to contemplate. These Micro Moments are designed to entertain in a few words, read them slowly and savour the essence. Be they ordinary or remarkable, they are all special in their simplicity. I aim to share experiences, to recapture images the reader may already possess. Occasionally they are vents for frustration but mostly they are light-hearted whimsical wonders of life that bring delight.
Regards from the author, Paul Douglas Lovell.

A (very) micro moment

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A recycled moment.

Our fast-paced lives leave little time to contemplate. These Micro Moments are designed to entertain in a few words, read them slowly and savour the essence. Be they ordinary or remarkable, they are all special in their simplicity. I aim to share experiences, to recapture images the reader may already possess. Occasionally they are vents for frustration but mostly they are light-hearted whimsical wonders of life that bring delight.
Regards from the author, Paul Douglas Lovell.

Recycled Moments

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A recycled moment.

Our fast-paced lives leave little time to contemplate. These Micro Moments are designed to entertain in a few words, read them slowly and savour the essence. Be they ordinary or remarkable, they are all special in their simplicity. I aim to share experiences, to recapture images the reader may already possess. Occasionally they are vents for frustration but mostly they are light-hearted whimsical wonders of life that bring delight.
Regards from the author, Paul Douglas Lovell.

A Review (made me a bit weepy)

5.0 out of 5 stars Paul is a risk taker in the way only those with big brave hearts dare to be and this makes for a wonderful tale.
on 10 January 2016
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I read this book over the Christmas holidays and I think my husband may of regretted buying me my Kindle Fire as he barely got a word out of me for the days I was reading it. It is a riveting read! My initial interest in the book was due to the fact that I knew the author and his family from school days and I was naturaly intrigued and curious to see how life had panned out for the youngest Lovell, However I defy anybody to not be captivated by this story of a young gay man who leaves very humble beginnings to find a new life in the big city and what a remarkable life it is!
His entry into the rent boy scene is almost accidental and what follows is a fascinating tale of the years that follow. He tells his story with an honesty which while always endearing is at times also heartbreaking. That said what struck me most was the total lack of self pity that the author has for the difficult start he had in life, his indestrucatable optimism and his resiliance and determination to live his life his way, answering to no one (although frequently worrying about offending the man upstairs with whom he has a surprising and touching internal dialogue with throughout the book).
The book is full of colourful characters and encounters, Paul is a risk taker in the way only those with big brave hearts dare to be and this makes for a wonderful tale. Throughout the book he grabs every opportunity offered and runs and runs and runs with it, often without any clear direction but always with a total openess to just see where he lands which is both inspiring and uplifting.
While at times gritty this is a book that will definately leave you feeling good and maybe like myself a little humbled at what he has managed to achieve against some pretty tricky odds. Cannot reccommend highly enough!