Paris for my birthday

Saturday afternoon in Paris,
rushing for our plane.
We hit the sights one by one
whilst hopping on the train.

The sun is shining hot in the sky
there’s not a spot of rain.
I hope we make it to the airport
for our two ‘o’ clock plane.

Time goes so quickly,
we’re at the airport and feel so sickly.
We catch our flight just in time.
And now for a rhyme within a rhyme…

“AirFrance you are the best.
Complimentary drinks and the rest.
You fly so high, you beat the rest.
We enjoyed the flight you are the best.”

We arrive in Manchester
in just over an hour.
We go though customs with speed,
such power.

We jump in a cab,
this trip has been FAB.
33 hours we have been away,
but now we’re back home and here to stay.

Our trip to Paris was one to remember.
It was for my 50th, the 14th of September.
We saw the Tower the windmill and more,
now my wife’s feet are so very sore.
At the end of the day the trip was a thrill,
Paris, the city, you are just brill.

We will be back to enjoy the Seine,
even in the pouring rain.

The man that walked a million miles

The man that walks a million miles
has on his face a thousand smiles.
His body burns from head to toe,
his muscles burn and his tendons glow.

The man that walks a million miles,
his life is full of turmoil and trials,
that’s the man that walks a million miles;
but he keeps a thousand smiles.

His life is hard but he doesn’t moan,
because in his mind he sits on a throne.
That is the man that walks a million miles.

He never gives in,
he never moans aloud;
his voice is too calm.
He will never shout;
that is the man that walks a million miles.



With my birthday just a day and a few hours away, I wanted to pass on some very interesting facts for the birthday boys or girls who share the same day as myself.

~We have slept for 6,087 days or 16 years and we have been on this planet for 438,240 hours.
~Yes you have guessed it correctly we are 26,294,400 minutes old!
~We were born in mid-September on a Saturday.
~We are Virgos and we are always very open-minded and we are constantly thinking, analysing and striving to better ourselves.
~Our birthstone is the Sapphire and it’s energies protect us from envy and harm.

This is for anyone else who was born with the same name as myself – Mark.
~It was number seven on the list of ‘most popular baby names’ in 1968.
~It is a polite, strong and emotional name and in the United States there have been a total of 1,356,156 males named Mark and 4,490 females.
~Our birth flower is Aster – I personally have never heard of it.

In the age range of 39-57 years old we were part of Generation X.
Time Period: 1961-1979.

Some facts are…

~Generation X grew up right at the start of the technological revolution.
~We are considered comfortable with technology, but not tethered to it as younger generations may seem.
~Generation X were born soon after the ‘baby boomers’ and are associated with the ‘hippie era’.
~They are often perceived as directionless and disaffected.

~Baseball player Denny McLain, who played for the Detroit Tigers back in 1968, ran his 30th victory of the season.
~USSR’s Zond 5 launched on it’s first circum lunar flight.

Last but not least is the title to this blog – it is the Roman Numerals for 9-14-1968.

Happy Birthday to you all.
Love Mark Quinn.


We have cats,
five at that,
they live in our house
with a toy mouse.

They keep us going,
they keep us alive,
that is why
we have five.

Bramley Apples is our first,
she can run with a burst.
All black and can attack,
three single strands of white hair
and her green eyes have a hypnotic stare.

Next in line is our little swine,
Branston Pickles is his name,
he keeps all the girls on their game.
Tabby and white is his fur
and he has a lovely purr.

Then comes Ginger Nut,
her bell-bell is the best;
full of fur, it beats the rest.
She sleeps in the bathroom within the towels,
then when it’s dark she’s on the prowl.

Then the twins, Thelma and Louise;
and believe me they are a tease.
Thelma is a tabby and white,
she always jumps out and gives me a fright.
Louise is a black and white,
she can scratch and she can bite;
but only in play I must add,
and she never makes us sad.

Our furry family give us joy;
four girls and a boy.


If I was a bird I would fly so high,
I would fly that high I would hit the sky.

I could pass people by,

because I would be that high.
If only I could fly…

If I was a mole I would live in a hole,
underneath the busy street.
I would munch on many a treat
and be way under the marching of feet.

If I was a monkey, I would live in the trees
and swing along with such ease.
I would eat the fruits that fall from above,
and give the trees all my love.

If I was a snake I would slither along
whilst singing a happy song.
My heart would be full of glee
and very grateful for all I could see.

I am a man who feels all above,
in my heart is so much love.
I can be what I want to be
and in my soul I feel so free.

You, only you…

Don’t blame your parents for the way you act;
they gave you a body, now that’s a fact.
Your mind is your own of endless powers.
You’ve been in the making for as long as time,
and if not yet, your time will shine.

Be yourself and don’t be hard;
you are what you are, you have come far.
So shoulders straight and head up high,
don’t be negative say goodbye.

Positive motivation is what you need;
what you become is what you feed.
Live your life with no regrets,
no hard feeling or heated threats.
Let your soul be free
and be happy with loads of glee.

The room

I walk up to the dark wood-stained door of my hotel room and place the key in the worn brass lock; you can hear the pins drop inside the lock as I turn it clockwise.

I push open the door and the hinges creak with a sigh of relief.
The sight of mustard-coloured walls and old wooden furniture greet me as I step on the brown corduroy carpet that could do with a vacuum.
I can hear the light bulb straining trying to stay on; flickering from very-dull to dull.

The reflection of the ‘Le Hotel’ neon sign outside reflects in my wardrobe’s full-length mirror.
On closing the door behind me I place my suitcase on the floral bedspread. I walk up to the window and take a look outside; I see a French baguette walking along eating a man, and a dog riding a bike with a string of onions following behind.

I spot a reflection in the window pane and quickly turn to see a scantilly-dressed maid with a glass of milk; she slowly hands it over and I take a sip.
“The milk is warm,” I say whilst licking the remaining drips from my upper lip.
The maid adjusts her left breast with her wrist in a upward-heaving movement.
“My pleasure!” she says, turning on her heels as she quickly makes her way out of the room as quietly as she entered.
I place the milk down – I don’t quite fancy it now – nor do I want the cheese and crackers she left behind.

I walk into the bathroom and look into the oval mirror and I see a reflection that is not me.

To be continued…

My little room

To celebrate the new bureau in the writing room, where all my inspiration comes from, I just want to say thank you.

Writing room,
yeah writing room,
you give me so much zoom.
You cancel all my gloom
and it all comes from within this room.

My inspiration comes from within your walls;
like the leaves when autumn falls.
You make my blood run cold
when a story of murder unfolds.

I look out your window at the night sky,
then I hit a high with a story about a guy.
There’s nothing special about this guy,
until I finish his profile;
then he’s a spy.

Then when I get writer’s block
your vibes give me such a shock
that I start to think of mister spock!
And then I write a space story that will shock.

The pictures on your dark blue walls
help me think; then a character calls.
The ink in my pen starts to run,
as I write about a dangerous nun.

You are so ace,
you truly are my special place.
If my next book is a boom…
it’s down to you, my writing room.

Pendle witch

Lancaster Castle many years ago,
the court rooms did put on a show.

Up Pendle Hill it was such a hike
to find the tower of Demdike.

Was she a witch?
We’ll never know.
Could she do magic?
Or was it a show?

August 1612 was the day in court,
throwing her life away and held
in the Well Tower for months on end;
sending poor Demdike around the bend.

Her grand-daughter, only nine
had her time to shine.
Jumping on the witness stand
and sending ten to hang.

Pointing the finger at all her clan,
was the court just an almighty sham?
It did not matter that fateful day
for in the end twelve did pay.