Aug 07 2019

Antique Grandfather Clocks

grandfather clocks

@johnshoneclocks

You’re telling me that you don’t care and no longer want to share you live with me.
(link: http://antiquegrandfatherclocks.com)
www.antiquegrandfatherclocks.com
john@johnshone.co.uk
Tel 0161 428 1740

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Jul 27 2019

Antique Grandfather Clocks

Antique Grandfather Clocks

John Shone·Wednesday, July 17, 2019·1 minute3 Reads
Cream of the crop Antique Grandfather Clocks for sale. Have a word with John Shone
antiquegrandfatherclocks.com
john@johnshone.co.uk
Tel 0161 428 1740

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Jul 19 2019

Antique Grandfather clocks

Antique Grandfather Clocks
Cream of the crop Antique Grandfather Clocks for sale. Have a word with John Shone
antiquegrandfatherclocks.com
john@johnshone.co.uk
Tel 0161 428 1740

Tags: ,

Jul 11 2019

The Agendas.Starring Harry Tweed and Hi Der Queenie

The Setting is Tweeds flat. He and Hi Der are sharing a glass of wine together ,when suddenly Four Masked  Gunmen burst in open Fire and then disappear
Rat aTat  a Tat  a Tat a Tatt Tat a  Tat a Tat Tat rat a Tat -Tat Tat Rat a Tat  Tat Tat  Tat RAT RAT RAT Rat a Tat  and many more
The room is  full of  smoke
The Smoke clears
No smoke
There is a slight pause and then a  voice is heard
“Hy-Der”
“Yes Tweed “
“That was close “
Hy-Der
” Well actually Tweed, they broke my  glass “

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Jul 03 2019

On the Motorway (final part) by Corin Trivass

Not long to go now,not long. There’s the signs,follow the arrow
aim the car up the slite gradient to the roundabout
and away down a country lane. Leave the rushing,
pushing, crowded motorway to its  own devices 

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Jul 02 2019

On the Motorway part 4 by Corin Trivass

Bored  anonymous cashire, encased  in glass , make-up peeling,
stiff hair falling over eyes, which  dart from tray to hand to register.
Red gash in peeking face speaks.  Hurry passed to vacant table and
ease tired, aching body onto  slashed seat.
Look around and notice how garish  the friendly place really is with
its contrasting decor. Violent and  deafening children run, scream and shout stuff.
Mothers talk,call drink,smoke, and  put a shilling into the mouth of the
hungry fat Juke Box. Machinery  starts to move and an old battered
record drops snugly into place.  Leave coffee liquid half finished and
return refreshed to rejoin the  race

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Jun 26 2019

On The Motorway part three by Corin Trivass

The evening twilight,turning darker  in shades(everything is shaded)
serves as a signal (what we need) for lights to pierce the blackness
showing the way (what we  need) for weary vehicle and man.
On into the night,off  white,amber,glaring,winking twinkling(faltering)
Suddenly a bright neon fill the  sky, a welcome break
On the limited horizon (of  rush), Pulling in weaving though
lines of parked cars searching for  a place to rest hot tyres
Inside, warm air  hangs heavily,  getting staler by the second.
Close nostrils and stand in  line. Shufling scaping feet inch forward
The atmosphere is choked with  people.Cup of coffee fluid
spills into saucer as elbows from  all angles interfere with passage

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Jun 20 2019

Down the Motorway Part 2 by Corin Trivass

Cruising down the motorway (any  motorway) watching frail ,graceful  bridges,
decorated occasionally with  faces(any faces),loom from out of nowhere
to soar up and away overhead and  vanish rapidly from sight (there will be more)
On both sides, various, sparkling  cars of reds, blues, yellows, whites (any colour)
rush by resplendent in shiny chrome  glittering in a meage sunlight
each one as it nears turns into a  blurred streak of translucent pigment
spread with  knife onto a green  canvass of rolling hills(which glow
on the surface)

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Jun 19 2019

In the afternoon it stopped raining and my little box was illuminated by
glorious cascades of sunshine. Perhaps my stars were in the right position
or something but whatever the reason, everything, just everything was perfect.
I left at 5.30pm prompt, a minor miracle in itself, no overtime to , work and
proceeded  on my merry way home. Instead of my mouthful of abuse to fellow
motorists, I merely touched my hat and waved. Life was for living, I had
discovered the secret at last. I felt so snug, so warm so contented as I
rounded the hairpin at the top of the road.
“Oh hell,that bus is on the wrong side”
SPLAT !!!
The moral of the story is that it sometimes pays to miss the bus.

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Jun 14 2019

Roundabout Part 5 by Corin Trivass

What was the matter with me ? Why should I feel so good?
From the large glass doors, through to   the elevators and eventually
my office, I didn’t pass one soul without a kind word. My secretary’s
nervous grin was greeted by a cheery “ How do you do “ and the look
of astonishment on her face , was a gem of disbelief  “ Coffee please Liz
and have one yourself “ She wandered off dazed and mumbling. I laughed
It was good to be alive.
For virtually the first time in my life I was courteous to all my customers
ant they were courteous in return. I had steak for lunch (a rare treat) and didn’t even bawl out Liz when she cam back ten minutes late from lunch, after all  a girl needs time to p0wder her nose

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