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Jimmy the Pigeon’s Worldwide Adventures – London by Niamh Mitchell

One day, Jimmy the pigeon woke up from his forty-winks with a rather splendid idea…     

“I’m going to take a trip to London to visit King Charles!” Jimmy exclaimed to his fellow pigeon family over his morning meal.

So that morning, Jimmy set of to the historical city of London for his exciting visit to the King. Flying first class (naturally) on his pigeon plane because as it stands, Jimmy is quite a lazy pigeon which isn’t very handy when your supposed to fly everywhere.

When Jimmy arrived, he took in all of London’s astounding sights. He could spy the London bridge, Hamleys the gigantic, epic 7-floored toy shop and peeking through the clouds the London eye and all its 32 pods. What a truly wonderful sight.

When Jimmy finally came across Buckingham palace (where the King lives) he noticed a window ajar. “What luck!” Jimmy thought as he glided gracefully into the room, not knowing what could be awaiting him inside. Sure, he was nervous but in that moment in time, excitement and adrenalin overcame the nerves.

When Jimmy flew in the window, he instantly spotted King Charles the 3^rd eating an assortment of delicious honeys, exceptional mueslis and some dried fruit- which is his favourite thing to eat. “This must be my lucky day!” Jimmy thought excitedly.

Looking up from is scrumptious box of goodies, King Charles noticed Jimmy fluttering about. Now, King Charles is an all round animal lover and was quite pleased to see Jimmy. “Oh, what a lovely, majestic pigeon,” he exclaimed. Jimmy was overcome with joy and happiness; the King had just called him lovely! Yet through all this excitement, Jimmy’s bottom half got the better of him. Luckily, Jimmy’s little “accident” (yes, I mean poop, stop laughing children this is serious) missed the King. Unfortunately, it landed on the King’s white, historic, spotless sofa…

Suddenly, the air was alive with honeys, mueslis and fruit and in addition to that there was some naughty, naughty words came out of King Charles’ mouth. “Guards, arrest this pigeon!” shrieked King Charles. Guards grabbing from every angle, Jimmy was caught and whisked away to pigeon prison (which is a thing by the way!) where a life sentence in the choky was awaiting him.

3 weeks later…

By this point ladies, gentleman, boys, girls and whatever animal you may be, you may have thought Jimmy our dear pigeon had given up all hope and was well and truly done for (quite sad I know). Well, let me tell you, Jimmy was very much alive and kicking, coming up with a plan to escape the awful dungeons. It so happens that there was another fellow pigeon in pigeon prison trying to escape, and his name was Stewart. So, Jimmy and his new friend Stewart did Pigeon Karate on the guards (which is also a thing!) and they zoomed out the door, far away from London.            

“Bye bye London!” Jimmy exclaimed.

The end

Callander Park by Amanda Anderson

A wish

A dream

A summer gone

In awe of morning glowing bright

I walk the paths in the basking light

Returning to my childhood home

The trees and benches memories remain

The water still the swans a plenty

Sitting looking me up and down

Still intimidating me as always

My bench has gone now

They took it away but the seat remains

My heart was lost here

My youth was saved

My soul wrapped in the grasses I sat on

A life from a youngster to adult

All in this sacred peaceful place

I used to sit under the trees and read

I sat next to the water to draw

Water trees the insects and bees

The swan boats of fun

Mini golf I never won

Chasing my friends

Summertime never ends

I walked the paths and steep hills

I found quiet I found freedom I found still

I found myself In the basking light

A wish

A dream

A summer gone

I am back

I am free

I am home

Covid Caledonia by Hazel Beattie

A crisp carpet of colours crunches under heavy feet

Russets and golds swooping in circles around bobble hatted heads

A new season arrives but brings no change for the better, just bitter.

Bitter cold, bitter people.

No more quizzes, just quizzical faces trying to face the future

Panes of glass separating generations with a pain that cuts deep

Empty chairs and empty tables, not just for the miserable

Staging protests for silent stages and masking the pain

Summer came and went with no Fringe benefits

No juggling the crowds, no crowds for the juggler

Scores of empty rooms replace scores of dancing dots

A measure of poor Auld Reekie’s unwanted rest

Positive. A terrifying word, but there was positive.

Released by our captivity we changed our habitat habits

Cleared our heads by clearing space in rooms and hearts

Parking our fears was a walk in the park

Cubes of community made us cackle and cry

Faces of the past we had forgotten why we had forgotten

We danced in our kitchens, froze with funny faces

Has it taken death to make us live?

Uncertainty is certain but we can pass this test

Isolating not our minds but reaching out for contact

Tracing the outline of the outbreak of a new community

Fairfaw this Covid Caledonia

Boltin Kye by Alex Grant

Soon as John graubbit ma collar, his een telt me that he wis whit spooked the kye. Mere seconds since haurin the hooves ae the beasts beat the groun and I was laupin among them, kennin that whitever John’d done wisnae summit fir whit we’d want tae stay and face the consequences. Folk were awreddy strawn aroon. We, lit bulls oorsels, trampilt ower them. The peace ae the toon sooth ae the tryst becam clear through the chaos, signalin a safety awa fae the bovine terror unleashed upon these puir fowk. As we passed, somewan tried tae tak a coo back unner control. Wi the animal mid-stampede, the act hud bravery and brawn but no much brain. We wir tae busy runnin tae see whit the ootcome wis, but I hoped he’d still huv a chance later tae try oot the latter.

I hoped tae God that naebdy hud seen John near the kye. The Lord deals in guid time wi whitever lies upon yir conscience but I thocht it unlikely that a judge wid tak a prayer or twa as penance enough. Thochts ae the Licht ae the Wurld wir fast replaced by those ae the lichts ae the toon. They wir oor new salvation, a still sma voice cryin tae us atween the hurtlin kye. We’d chance the pub, bide there owernicht. The anticipation ae beer hud barely settled when a coo clipped John fae behind. Hud the storm ae livestock no been thundrin roon us, I’m sure I’d huv cringed at the soond his shooder made. Clamberin up wi his guid airm he ran aheid, trailin the ither ahint like wan mair tail swattin in the daurk.

The silence at the edge ae the tryst contrasted the houls ahint. Safety and security fir certain. I went tae John tae see tae his airm but there wis little I could dae wi it, except mebbe mak it worse. I thocht aboot that efter whit he’d put us through. But naw, this wis a job for the doctor tae dae or the barman tae dull – whoever we foun first. Torches appeart at the end ae the lane an we slid intae a close, hopin we’d no be spotted. Jist in case, I looked aroon fir an escape. The back hud a low fence but John wisnae in ony state tae go hoppin through the backs ae the hooses. In time though, the torchlicht grew, peaked and faded intae the distance.

We stumbilt the last feet tae the noise ae the bar, John coverin his left side wi ma cloak tae avoid ony prying questions. I pushed the door open, appreciatin the warmth ae the hearth and the lilt ae a fiddler playin tunes I kent fae back north. Hame. The familiarity ae a chair aneath and the long draught ae a pint through ma lips softened ma fears as I cawed tae the fowk aroon us.

“Noo lads, ye widnae believe whit I jist haurd…”