Product Review

 

 by Amy B. Moreno

a single shot espresso

Product Review: ‘Jungle Fun’ Toddler Drum Kit – (with ‘real clang’ cymbal set)

Loud, obnoxious, and with no ‘off’ button, this toddler drum kit is bright neon in both colour and volume.

Perfect gift to the toddler of a parent you hate. 

Tantrums guaranteed (and not from the 2-year-old).

10/10 value for money. Would recommend!

 

About the author

Amy B. Moreno writes poetry and prose for adults and children. She writes in English, Scots, and Spanish, including multilingual pieces. She has recently been published by MsLexia (Little Ms), The Common Breath, The London Reader, and Dreich magazine. 

Wild Flowers

 

by Amy B. Moreno

a cup of tea, but made with real tea leaves instead of a bag. And drank from a cup and saucer.

Jimmy an’ me had nothin’ when we marrit young. My hands were empty ‘til wee Kitty came up an’ gave me a posie ae wild flowers – bluebells, cowslip, daisies, wood sorrel.  So young and bright.

Jimmy always buys me anniversary flowers; a fancier bouquet every year.  They crowd the mantelpiece, crying for my attention like the babies that never came.

I smile a thank you an’ he rests in the armchair, admiring his work, please with himsel’.  I sit opposite him and look out the windae.  It’d hurt his feelings if I told him I’d prefer the wild flowers.

About the author 

Amy B. Moreno writes poetry and prose for adults and children. She writes in English, Scots, and Spanish, including multilingual pieces. She has recently been published by MsLexia (Little Ms), Secret Attic, The Common Breath, The London Reader, The Scottish Book Trust, and The Ogilvie Literary Review.
Twitter: @Amy_B_Moreno 

A Time for Patient Waiting

 by Amy B. Moreno

a strong cup of tea with milk and one sugar

 The kitchen is cloaked in smells of comfort food; like it’s wrapped up in an old dressing gown.  Her hand trembles slightly as she pipes icing around the edges of the cake.  She’s never tried this recipe before, never had the time.  When the loop is completed, she brushes her hands together, wiping off the recent nerves.  As the icing sets, her eyes grow restless and are drawn to the kitchen window, and the garden outside.

            Today, it's coated in white, with all its softness curled up underneath; a cat tucking in her paws and closing her eyes.  Nature’s favourite sweets peek through the frosting – red berries, shiny ivy, the first brave crocus.

            The long-empty swings are silenced and frozen in time.  They have forgotten how to dance, ankles becoming heavy.  Memories of footprints pepper the lawn.  The pair of rowan trees sigh in relief and sorrow at no longer being demanded and pulled on, but they don’t yet know what to do with their empty branches. The deflated footballs and rebellious teenage cigarette butts remain hidden, in forgotten corners.  It’s a garden mosaic, measured on the doorframe with each growing inch, until the pieces were too big for the garden, too tall for the house.

            An icy breeze whistles through the edge of the window frame, mingling with the warmth beating from the oven, and brushing against her cheek as a kiss. The frame will need replaced; she’s never had the time before.  She begins to wash and tidy away the bowls and tools; she knows there are things she’d like to do, and she’ll find out what they are.

This is a time for waiting patiently – for the next season to arrive, and all it will entail.

 

About the author 

Amy B. Moreno writes poetry and prose for adults and children. She writes in English, Scots, and Spanish, including multilingual pieces. She has recently been published by MsLexia (Little Ms), Secret Attic, The Common Breath, The London Reader, and The Ogilvie Literary Review.
Twitter: @Amy_B_Moreno