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A Savored Embrace



All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or in part, or stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Copyright © Robert Dotchin 2017

Cover illustrations by Jessica James http://www.fiverr.com/pro_design

Robert Dotchin has asserted his moral rights.

This book is a work of fiction. (See exceptions) Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental, apart from the exceptions listed below.

“Mumbo Jumbo” is a protest about the mass slaughter of elephants. “A Flood of Gray” was inspired by the initial apathy of the government, who did nothing for months after horrendous flooding in this country. “Aliens” is a protest about the crimes committed in this century in Eastern Europe. “Fro’n to the Bone” is about the freezing aftermath of Germany’s failure to take Moscow in WWII. “Stop The Torture” is a protest about atrocities committed by the North Korean regime. “The Butcher of Syria” is about the Syrian killer Assad, who has been annihilating his own people for years. “The Ballad of Noodlyneeps” was the result of an article that a friend of mine published in The Long Distance Walkers Association Forum. She walked around the Isle of Wight in May 2008.


The dedication of this book is split too many ways to mention everyone by name. It is dedicated to my family and friends all over the world and to friends, family and former colleagues that I have lost touch with. It is dedicated to you, dear reader.


Mumbo Jumbo

A Sinkhole Ate My Car!

Capture Every Moment


I Killed the Easter Bunny

The Gomp

Master and Creator

A Flood of Gray

Recapture the Past

The Scone Drone


An Interesting Soul


Vegas Lady


Little Ted Johnson


The Little Boy’s Adventure

At the End of the Day

Death Wish


Bitter and Twisted


Fro’n to the Bone

The Crazy Kook from Kazakhstan

Bread is Dear

Defying Gravity

The Lazy Brown Dog

Poem of Love

A Blowout at Sixty

The Block


Evolution Revolution

My Best Friend


A Perfect Stranger

The Thumper and the Harlot

Wanted Man

Join Me in a Cup

Open Your Mind

Date Surprise

The Butcher of Syria

The Little Girl’s Adventure

The Rhyming Curse

Calm Before the Storm


When the I Love You’s Stop

Stop the Torture

I Want a Lover

The Ballad of Noodlyneeps

The End

About the Author

Coming Soon by Robert Dotchin


I would like to thank my knowledgeable friend Megan from Las Vegas for her constructive criticism, advice, observations and constant support. I would also like to show my appreciation to my daughter Sallyanne and my friend Anita for their thoughts and assessments.


Jumbo’s just a baby,

Whose mother has been slain.

Poachers coldly killed her,

With a bullet to the brain.

Mumbo’s tusks were hacked off,

By the evil men.

Jumbo now has nightmares.

She relives it all again.

A kinder man helps Jumbo,

To be happy and survive.

He does what Mumbo use to,

When she was alive.

Jumbo misses Mumbo.

The man stays night and day.

He gives her milk and plays with her,

To brighten up her day.

The man is sad to see her go.

She is fully grown.

Jumbo thinks of Mumbo,

Now she’s on her own.

A shot rings out and Jumbo,

Falls lifeless to the ground.

Jumbo’s nightmares are no more.

The poachers gather ‘round.


A sinkhole ate my car,

Then it ate my home,

Then it ate the London Eye,

And the Millennium Dome.

The Angel of the North,

Was gobbled up so fast;

Then Blackpool Tower vanished,

As I was going past.


Now Newcastle underground.

Stonehenge and the Isle of Wight,

Went without a sound.

A hole appeared where London was.

The streets just disappeared.

A sinkhole then took Glasgow,

And the town of Windermere.

Every sinkhole filled with water;

Completely changed the place.

The whole world watched a sinkhole,

As it stuffed its face.

Scotland, Ireland, England, and Wales,

Sank into the sea.

We reinvaded Normandy,

And Sark and Alderney.


Capture every moment.

We know not when time ends.

Savor every hour,

With family and with friends.

Tell them how you love them.

Give them precious time.

Fill their minds and hearts,

With music and with rhyme.

Kiss the ones you love,

And tell them “I love you.”

Show them how you love them,

And the things they do.


The aliens came disguised as men.

Nothing was ever the same again.

They snuffed out their lives and took their land.

The world just watched as the cameras panned.

The green men killed. They had no shame.

Blood was spilled, and still they came.

The red flag flew, but had no face.

The whole world knew; ‘twas their disgrace.

The ball was kicked and people clapped,

While a nation’s strength was sapped.

No-one cared about their plight.

They watched the ball, as it took flight.

The country sank into despair.

The world just watched. They didn’t care.

Perhaps they’ll wake when aliens land,

And burn their skin with their brand.


I killed the Easter bunny,

Many years ago.

I told those silly fairies,

Where they ought to go.

Santa Claus came creeping ‘round.

I kicked him in the butt.

The tooth fairy better learn,

To keep her big mouth shut.

I grabbed a leprechaun’s shillelagh,

And tears welled in his eyes.

Bigfoot was sent packing,

Though he was twice my size.

I caught a feisty mermaid,

And kicked her into space,

And put the willies up a ghost,

When I slapped his face.

I don’t care what color cat

Walks in front of me.

Witches run and disappear.

Now that’s reality.

A werewolf and a vampire,

Were in a nightmare that I had.

I gave them each a bloody nose,

Which really made them mad.

I killed a hundred dragons.

The others live in fear.

With the power of my mind,

Flying saucers disappear.

There were no alien abductions.

They were crazy or they lied.

The jokers with the little green men,

Took us for a ride.

Astrology is nonsense,

Something to avoid.

Crystal balls and tarot cards,

Should all be destroyed.

I don’t believe the charlatans,

Who say they can talk with the dead.

If you believe all that crap,

There’s something wrong with your head.

I burned Noah’s ark,

Before it had chance to sail.

I vaporized your invisible god,

And the Holy Grail.

Jesus disappeared,

When I wished it to be so.

I wiped out heaven and hell,

And the whole ridiculous show.


It was the thirty-third of Joolember,

On the planet known as Ember.

I was attacked by a giant Gomp.

He wanted to take my womp.

“Womp? I haven’t a groot!

Unhand me you brute!”

He told me he wanted some food,

And was sorry for being so rude.

So I took him home with me,

And my wife nearly threw a mullee.

She finally made us some grite,

Which he ate with just one bite.

We both had a grall of co.

He drank it all in one go.

He thanked me and said good-bye,

And winked with his one red eye.


The birds rejoice in the trees,

And darkness embraces the light.

Leaves are dancing in the breeze.

The moon is losing height.

The day is new, and glad it’s alive.

The morning’s a mountain stream.

The stars, no longer, can survive.

The night is just a dream.

The grass is kissed with morning dew;

The looking glass, a lake.

Inside, the land, is all askew;

Both solar kings awake.

From my precipice survey,

Perfection to behold.

The virgin sand reflects the day.

The zephyr’s life’s been sold.

The bouquet of the air’s so clean.

The tranquil water waits.

Nature’s tapestry in green;

The gentle wind dictates.

Some caribou quench their thirst,

And fish come out to play.

Pain and suffering dispersed;

The clouds are kept at bay.

The time and patience I will need,

To capture everything.

I’ll need a steady hand indeed;

A painting for a king.


It’s a gray world outside my door,

With gray people walking around.

They walk past each other

With heads bowed low,

And never utter a sound.

The cars speed by and now and again,

A driver blows his horn.

Some look up and walk on again,

And still they look forlorn.

A rainbow appears and fades away,

As a gray cloud gets in its way.

A dozen horses appear in the sky,

All various shades of gray.

Gray birds land in trees, that are also gray,

To hide from the gray that’s coming.

They don’t wait very long as the gray rain falls.

On the ground it starts its drumming.

The gray invades everyone’s homes,

And nobody seems to care.

They wake with a fright; they’re horrified.

There’s gray almost everywhere.

They look outside, and their gray car has died,

As the gray rushes swiftly by.

The gray men in charge, sit at home with cigars,

And spout the occasional lie.

“If we wait long enough, just a few weeks,

I’m sure it will all go away.”

Still it goes on, for days and for weeks,

And months of nothing but gray.

We don’t want to know how long it’ll last.

We want our lives to resume.

We’d like to escape from the gray but we can’t,

And we’d like to see flowers bloom.


In 2020 he was ninety-five,

Depressed, on his own, and barely alive.

No one to hold and kiss goodnight,

He was weak and cold. His skin was white.

He woke with a start, no longer alone.

There were voices, and faces

Of people he’d known.

His friend said “Come on, there’s land in sight.”

He felt so alive, shouted “Great!” in delight.

There on the dock was the love of his life.

His eyes welled up as he looked at his wife.

She was happy and lovely and waving her hand.

It was good to be home. To see her was grand.

They laughed and cried; a savored embrace.

He wiped the tears from her beautiful face.

The feeling arrived and was so intense.

Their love had taken precedence.

The last few years were a nightmare, it’s true,

But the war was hell and broke families in two.

They lay together entwined through the night,

Then the morning sun said “Hello” with its light.

He had a good life. He was ninety-five.

Alone like that, he couldn’t survive.

“They’re together now,” someone remarked,

As the ship to his wife, once again, he embarked.


There was a king of Tyrone,

Who sat alone on his throne.

He said to his queen Simone,

“Your cake is as hard as a stone.”

She didn’t like his tone,

So she picked up the telephone,

And phoned the cook called Joan,

Who was like Simone, but a clone.

Joan laughed at her on the phone,

And told her that she had flown,

Off to another time zone,

To places completely unknown.

This news caused the king to moan.

He was angry with Simone and Joan.

He said he fancied a scone,

But there were none in County Tyrone.

“Why don’t you build a drone?

Then it can bring you a scone.”

So he invented the first scone drone,

And bought his wife some cologne.

There were scone drones all over Tyrone,

From there to Sierra Leone.

The press wouldn’t leave him alone,

Because of the first scone drone.


The prince of darkness harvests the flower.

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