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Rick Haynes

If you are healthy and happy then you are very rich indeed!


Rick Haynes Merits

20 most prolific18 most esteemed16 top drabble

A Trip To Remember

“What do you think of day trippers?'

“I love them, don’t you?'

“Sometimes they’re okay, but talk about noisy. Only yesterday a family of eight turned up on the beach right next to the pier.'


“The kids were screaming at each other and their parents did nothing.'

“It’s your favourite spot as well.'

“I know. But how could I make them move away from the ice cream man?'

“Difficult question. So what did you do?'

“Once I thought about the problem, it was easy. I nicked an ice cream and dumped my poo over them as I soared overhead.'

Bastion Boys

We saw a message about the boys away.

How long to go, how long to stay.

With the dust and the heat,

and the boot sore feet.

Of the longing to be home again.

We saw the need of a comfort or two.

From a reading book to a sweet to chew.

And thought of the need,

of the warrior creed.

And the longing to be home again.

So here we send to the boys away.

Some small comforts for their day.

On that foreign sand,

in that hellish land.

Of the longing to be home again.

So we pray to god and wish you well.

In that place you know, that living hell.

With knee unbowed,

it makes us proud.

And the longing to be home again.


“And gentlemen in England now abed, will hold their manhood cheaply, knowing that I fought so well on Crispin day.'

“And that’s your offering on Shakespeare, is it? Are you really called Crispin?'

“So what if I am?'

“Forget it, I don’t care who you are but you don’t know Shakespeare.'

“Yes I do, they fought as brothers, went whoring on the way home and everyone remembered them.'

“Please! You want a part in Henry V? Don’t make me laugh.'

“Did you say Henry V?'

“Of course I did.'

“Oh shit, I thought this audition was for Romeo and Juliette.'


The great pillars of Stonehenge have stood for 4614 years and pilgrims still flock to pay homage.

The blood of many has seeped into the ground over the years and yet only a few know the real truth.

We meet on the last night of the old year, the only time when rivalries are put aside. Long into the early hours we remember the dead.

But before the sun shows its face we return to our homes and plan.

As King of the badgers on Salisbury plain I must protect the stones from evil usurpers, or die in the attempt.

Missing Colours

Sitting at the window watching the rain fall in torrents, I wondered where the blue had gone.

I could see the green, in all its shades and hues. From apple to avocado, and olive to emerald, the garden offered them all.

But I wanted to see red flowers, big crimson ones, but I suppose any size would do.

And what about yellow, there were so many a few days ago. Surely, even on a wet day, I should see the colour of daffodil and canary.

Still what do I know?

Because isn’t the perception of colour, limited, for a dog?

The Homecoming

“I love you.' She tried again. “I really love you.'

Put feeling into it girl, she said to herself.

I know I had an affair, but he’s always away. I couldn’t help it.

They say he’s been injured, that he’s okay. What do I say when he arrives?

The tears steadily fell; the pain in her head refusing to abate.

She heard the car and raced to the front door.

“I love you Will, I really love you.'

She caressed the burnt face of Corporal William Harris, and for the first time in her young life, she meant every word.

At Peace


Holding hands we stood spellbound as we watched the stars way above in the heavenly black. The bright sparkles appeared to be looking down on us as if the majestic gods were riding their chariots across the universe.

As I looked into her orbs of wonderment, I shuddered. Her hand tightened on mine as I sank into her smile.

The gods may rule above but the love we share is beyond their understanding.

I am at peace with myself and my world and I need nothing more to be complete.

For the best things in life I have already found.

At War


I espied my feeble subjects far below.

Looking through the mists of time little had changed as man continued in his relentless persecution. From the beginning they had sought to conquer and rule. Countless innocents had died; men, women, even babies had been sacrificed on the altar of eternal power.

And now even my son has grown too powerful, too ambitious. If the God of War prevails, Earth will slowly die, and the power of the gods will fade into the darkness.

“I will never allow that to happen.'

I screamed, and the heavens shook.

“All they need is love.'


Where are you going to my little runaway?

There’s only pain today.

Is it true you are lost my precious runaway?

Just hunger pangs today.

There’s no one at home who understands you.

So how will you cope in the cold and the dark?

Your world so empty.

Your life so sad.

There are no answers little runaway.

Where will you be sleeping tonight?

There are no sympathies precious runaway.

So how will you feel tonight?

But maybe tomorrow will be brighter.

For maybe your star will shine.

So turn around my little runaway.

Heaven’s too full of your kind.


As the dew gently caressed the leaves in the wood, a soft light slowly grew in luminance. The coalescing sparkles began to take the shape of a young girl. A pure white gown swished and swirled around her as she moved towards the graveyard, her slender feet leaving no tracks in the soft soil.

The fresh grave had been hastily re-filled but all her attention was focused on the sobbing cries of a terrified infant.

Holding out her hands to the cold earth, she spoke soothingly.

“Come forth you beautiful child, for I will take you to your true home.'


Tears had flooded her face so many times that the well had truly dried up.

Justin had gone forever, his life taken by a drunk driver.

Driving a wreck of a car simply added insult to the pain constantly tearing her heart to shreds.

She believed in a punishment to fit the crime but the court had decided on clemency and he had served just two years in jail. She could never forget his smirking face as he taunted her in the shopping centre after his release.

But now, his face would perpetually stare at the bags of frozen meat.

Little Ed’s Dilemma

‘You’re behind in the ratings Ed.’

‘Don’t worry; my new style of Socialism will sway the floaters, as well as appealing to die hard Labour supporters.’

‘Oh yeah! What about the Tories? They’ve just overtaken us in the polls.’

‘Call me Dave has run out of new ideas. Europe hates him, the unions hate him and we hate him. What more do you want?’

‘The people hate us.’

‘Rubbish! Anyway I have a cunning plan.’

‘Not a coalition with the Lib Dems?’

‘Those lying cheating toadies? Never! ‘

‘What then?’

‘I’m following in my beloved father’s footsteps. We’re going Communist.’


The cup spilled over. The red ooze coalescing before it dripped to the bare floor. Small hands offered the handle to the man, urging him to drink the contents.

Any attempt to move seemed pointless for all feeling in his legs had disappeared some time ago. Shaking his head did nothing to deter the pixie from moving inexorably closer. Cup touched dry lips. Salt and sweetness assaulted his taste buds. A surge of energy flushed through his veins as the liquid burned his throat and warmed his empty stomach.

‘This is only the beginning, for one brew is never enough.’

That Woman

I thought, are you taking the piss?

The words streaming from her mouth were just too ludicrous. To condemn me, to castigate me, and to brand me sexist was both deeply insulting and wrong.

She started waving her arm in the air, pointing to something over her shoulder.

Suddenly she had something hidden in her other hand. I had to step backwards; was she threatening me?

I stood stock still as she continued her diatribe. I felt like a naughty schoolboy as my mind wandered back to the headmaster’s dark study.

She produced a card.


'Come off it ref.’

Over The Top

We wait, trembling with anticipation, as shortly we will launch a surprise attack.

We are as strong as they are weak, and thus we plunder, to prove that we are the masters.

A ripple, a surge, and we move out en-masse.

Silence reigns supreme as rank after rank of our army moves closer.

We reach our goal!

They counter attack!

Fight or die!

I fight!

The living and dying scream aloud, as the hellish battle unfolds.

A snap, a crunch and the claw of the termite embraces me.

I shall not return to the ant hill.


The sun was shining, the sky was blue and the 'postie' fell off his bike.

It was an old 'postie', on an older bike, on an even older road.

Just another everyday occurrence in a small Greek village.

Except of course that it didn't really happen like that.

The 'postie' was suffering from the previous night's party that ended at 4am. The bike was sort of 'newish' and the road recently resurfaced.

Still in times of austerity it's better to say that nothing works.

Today the 'sober postie' really did fall off his bike.



Here I sit, all alone on our faded cream sofa.

My feet are hanging over one of the dark wooden arms, as my hand grasps the tumbler ever tighter.

The half-empty bottle on the coffee table speaks volumes, as my eyes shed droplets, like the whiskey tears running down the outside of the glass.

Was it only last week that she packed her bags and left, clearing out the bank account on her way to meet her new lover?

Someone I knew so very, very well!

My mate! My best friend!

I really, really..........

Miss him!


I am awake!

Yet I am not here!

Sleep is beckoning me like a moth to a golden flame, and I can taste the call of freedom, as my mind yearns to fly free from my body.

Was it only recently that my feelings caressed my soul and heart, through throbbing ruby red veins? Are they not the very same feelings that now urge me, to sleep, to slumber, and to dream?

Thus I yield!

To dream!

I so easily succumb, for I know that....

I'll be travelling at the speed of light, when I leave this wheelchair.