Poetry - Lynn White

  To The Moon Come fly with me, my fancy man and I’ll take you to places   that you haven’t been, but only if that’s what you fancy. Come fly with me, my fancy man, hold on tight as we climb to the moon, and come sliding down moonbeams under the clouds, but only in our fancy. Come fly with me, my fancy man. We’re still tripping the light fantastic, still frantic to find our fantasy land at the end of our flight of fancy. https://masticadoresusa.wordpress.com/2026/08/16/to-the-moon-by-lynn-white/

  Morris Minors This is a tale of three Morris Minors, once upon a time. Liz had an old green Morris Minor. It knew the road between Liverpool and Derbyshire  intimately and she was generous with her lifts until the day the breaks failed completely. We had just passed the Cat And Fiddle, right on the tops   with the long steep decent ahead. Liz was a good driver. My Morris Minor was black with stripes of rust in its wheel arches and no floor at the back. Back seat passengers came away  with wet feet. Even the patching with beer cans  made little difference. It failed the test. Alan had a white Morris Minor with a perfect body, breaks and floor, but the gear box was shattered. The gears didn’t work. Still no one could steal it. The three of us put our heads together and came up with a solution. We would put the best bits together to make one car which we would share. Liz and Alan were cool mechanics and I made good coffee to keep them going. We were pleased with ...

  Red Car The abandoned car stood on the waste ground, rusting away, doors hanging off, leather seats ripped. The children played there on warm summer days but I was not allowed. The place was dangerous and the children were rough. It was the first time I had ever been in a car. I sat behind the wheel to drive it making engine noises like a bus. It was a black car. In those days all cars were black. Any colour you like, so long as it’s black. I thought that a red one would have been nicer. https://4fpcar.blogspot.com/2026/08/lynn-white.html

  Beetle They had a reputation for reliability but there’s always an exception to the rule. Mine was the exception with an inclination   to come to a halt for no reason, just a whim. It was worse after it was fixed, it’s tappets adjusted or perhaps renewed. It became so afraid of stalling   that it was reluctant even to start. One part of the car park was on a slight slope. I got to work early to make sure of my place. I switched on the engine, gave it a push, leapt inside and put it into gear. Usually that did the trick and the engine spluttered into life. No way will I let anyone fix tappets on my car again. https://4fpcar.blogspot.com/2026/08/lynn-white.html

 His first morning Their move to north Wales didn’t go to plan. It was so different from the south of England and the house, bought in a phone call was not as she expected. There was so much she hadn’t been told over the phone, and so much more she had forgotten to ask. There were more leaks than expected, but she had expected a bathroom, however basic and even the old toilet outside   didn’t work. There was a lot to think of a lot to sort out in their new home in this new place,   in a new country where she knew no one. So, she could be forgiven   for forgetting to warn him. She picked him up eagerly after his first morning in school. “Was it good?“ she asked. “Were the other children nice, did you have fun?” “It was great, Mum,” he answered. She sighed with relief. Something had gone right. “There was one thing   that was really strange   though.” She looked up alarmed. “Oh no, what was that!?” “They all spoke French!” he said. https://poetrywivenhoe.org/...

  Ageing I was young once, unbelievably young, almost a child playing. Oh I was young once, waiting for life to begin to grab me   take me up and over. Yes, I was young once playing   waiting. No end to it just waiting playing ageing waiting. https://latinosenglishedition.blog/2026/08/13/poems-on-aging-by-lynn-white/