The sun has hardly began to breathe life into the world when Catherine and Nathalie woke with a start. Something was tapping at the entrance of the shelter. A cinnamon colored eye peeked through a gap and they sighed in relief. It was Jacob, the robin carrier, with a message form their parents to inform them that the Gorm destroyed the warren and was last seen following footprints in between the two rivers. There was no time to lose. Nathalie checked the map with Jacob’s help and soon the group of rabbits set off through the fields, heading ever north.

Hopping through the fields, the land was silent. There was a lot of rain during the night and mud enveloped the fields, making walking harder. Leaves whirled to the ground, making it look like a mud cake with a couple of deformed sprinkles.

Nathalie knew that the Gorm could easily track the rabbits down with the intense smell of mother’s perfume they have taken as a memory, the aroma stayed on for hours. By midday, they were up on Rimbombee Hills and the rabbits came to a halt. Ahead, they could just make out the outline of a home. A hermit’s home. Perphaps we could hide there, thought Nathalie.

Several hours later, they found themselves walking up to the house, looking for an open window. The door was locked and none of them had any hair clips on hand. Trudging through the mud, Nathalie, Catherine and baby Maximilian went around the walls until they found an translucent window, probably leading to a bathroom, which was leaning forward. The darkness of the bathroom pressed in on them. Silently, they all tried to find the door but that wasn’t an easy task. When they found it, they crossed there paws and opened the door to find an old man watching the television. Fortunately, he didn’t notice them. They snuck upstairs into a bedroom which was being renovated. Catherine knew he wouldn’t come here in the night.

Scared, baby Maximillian leaped onto a mattress and was soon fast asleep. The bedroom had no wallpaper. Paintbrushes, paint rollers, trays, carpet samples and toolboxes cluttered the floor. Nathalie suggested that Catherine should go find some food since she is smaller. With these words, she crawled into the kitchen and manages to take a loaf of bread, butter, chocolate chip cookies, a cucumber, salt and a flagon of milk. At least they would not be hungry.

At that moment, there was a call from the living room, “What yer doin’ in m’ house?” A drunk ancient face stared at the kitchen. She climbed into a cupboard with the food, her heart racing. Catherine froze. The hermit was going towards the kitchen and he picked up a shovel and umbrella on the way.

Would Catherine ever go back to her siblings?

Have you just been given a post-it note unicorn to look after? Are you wondering how on earth you will manage to take good care of such a rare and precious creature? Fear not. Read these instructions and you will be able to enjoy playing with your pet and have the pleasure to let it develop into a healthy state.

What you will need: rabbit cage; post-it notes; crystals; a fluffy blanket; pancakes; water and plenty of time.

What to do:

First, put your rabbit cage in the garden. Place your post-it note unicorn inside so it won’t run away.

Next, take a fluffy blanket and crystals and put them in the enclosure.

Then, leave your unicorn for five days for it to get used to its new home.

Also, provide pancakes and water for the post-it note unicorn because eventually it will become hungry. Post-it note unicorns enjoy being hand fed.

After that, insert different coloured post-it notes inside the cage so that it can practice colour changing.

Later on, take your pet out for a walk on a microscopic leash( found in exotic pet markets) around town.

Finally, play with your unicorn so that it feels at home and cared for.

Post-it note unicorns make wonderful pets but will eventually lay eggs. Consequently, you will have to let your pet go. If you have shown a lot of patience and kindness it will come back and behave itself. This means you will be able to keep it inside your house. Post-it note unicorns are faithful to kind people.

What are frail? A falling friendship, a sheet of papyrus paper and a note in a tune of art.

What are delicate? A gorgeous glass, a happy heart dancing to its beat and a ruffled autumn leaf leaping to the dirt in Wyndham Park.

What are soft? Petals on a cherry blossom tree, a piece of homemade red velvet cake and my cousin’s cat Jerry’s fur.

What are thin? Thirty centimeters of thread waiting to be sewn, a metallic needle in a cushion and shed from a rattle snake.

What are fast? A cheetah leaping towards its prey, wind sweeping up grains of sand on Skegness Beach and a baby turtle racing to the ocean.

What are shiny? A brand new Jeep in the driveway, a polished mirror on a vanity and rows of sequins on a pencil case.

What are loud? A beating drum in a band, a crying newborn and a buzzing alarm clock roaring to wake my mother up.

What are dull? A piece of porcelain, an abandoned room and the paper in my package from Amazon.

A  shattered mirror by Roza @Belmont

I have never captured an onimous pencil army on a sidewalk zooming vigourisly to the end of the finish line
But I have seized a villianious video of a pigeon gyrating on the sage green fence in my garden.

I have never heard Queen Mary I squeal of joy as loud as an corrupt areoplane
But I have heard a full classroom whispering and giggling intensely.

I have never seen octopi camouflage into the grumbling ground of Kara Sea
But I have stared at my reflection in a precious puddle on Hills and Hollows.

I have never ridden a lucious llama into Lidi with a shopping basket in Grantham
But I have drove in a Jeep in Germany on the way to Poland.

I have never held Belmont Community Primary School in the air at dawn while all the pupils are still arriving
But I have held my brother’s Nintendo switch controller while playing Super Mario Party with him.

I have never befriended a tremendous television playing Countdown
But I have become friends with my stuffed animal octopus.

I have never thrown a shattered mirror containing fourteen depressed souls
But I have thrown a beach ball at my dad at Skegness.

I have never tased Indian herbs invading the taste of rice and curry
But I have eaten scrumptious pasta with rice and oil on top.

I want to paint

a vicious volcano erupting, magma mischievously melting everything in sight, a melancholy melody playing on Miss Crow’s radio hiding millions of memories within, a delicious donut delivered with your pizza, an iridescent igloo leaning in the blanket of the Arctic and a murmuration of swallows gliding in the sapphire sky.

I want to paint

the vermillion heart of a rose as happy as a hyena giggling after catching it’s prey, my auntie combing my hair as gentle as an axolotl swimming in the navy blue ocean, a teacher marking tests as busy as a buzzing bumblebee rushing around your garden searching for pollen, the water in a tremendous tea kettle as hot as fire cracking and sizzling in the fireplace and a broken heart, as weak as an ancient spiderweb, staring at it’s past.

I want to paint the taste of stretchy pizza cheese enveloping the dough in the oven. I want to paint the smell of cut grass, spreading the news of spring. I want to paint the sound of owls hooting in the deep, dark fearful forest. I want to paint the memory of meeting my friends after a tiring day of school. I want to paint the impossibility of the air collapsing. I want to paint the distance between a lonely lion and it’s precious prey. 

I want to paint the ends of this poem.