Tag Archives: Dragons Rule OK

serial, short story, stories

Finding Family: The Journey of Emily the Orphan. (Goldie and the Beare Family: Part 6)

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Mrs Beare looked at the child, who had cowered away at the mention of the orphanage. She frowned. “What is it, child? Surely the orphanage is better than your Mr Smith?”

“Ma said it was a bad place. When I were bad, she said she’d send me there.”

Mrs Beare put her head on one side. “So you have a mother?”

“No. She went to heaven. Annie found me and took me to Mr Smith. She said I’d be one of her girls when I’m old enough.”

Mr Beare strode into the room. “That settles it. She must go to the orphanage. We cannot allow her to become a fallen woman.”

His wife sat on the bed with an arm around the little girl. She turned to her. “What’s your name?”

“Mr Smith calls me Goldie.”

“But what did your mother call you? Can you remember?”

 Mrs Beare had to lean forward to hear the whisper.

“Emily.”

“Well, Emily, tell me what you did for Mr Smith.”

“Begged. He said I’m pretty so people’ll feel sorry for me and give me more.”

“Emily, I will not let you go to either Mr Smith, or the orphanage. I have an idea, but I need to talk to my husband about it.” She stood. “Stay here. Harold, come along with us. Bring a toy to play with, but leave Jacob with Emily.”

“But, mother…”

Mrs Beare frowned. “Don’t argue, Harold. Do as you are told.”

He handed his rabbit to Emily with a sullen look, and followed his parents. “What if she runs away with him?”

“We will be outside the room. She will not be able to leave without us seeing her. Go and take your train into the sitting room until we call you.”

Mr Beare stood, head cocked to one side. “What is it, Grace? What’s going on in that head of yours?” He laughed. “I can’t see what alternative there is to the orphanage.”

“Oh, but there is, Albert. You know how I…we…wanted more children, but none came after Harold? Remember our prayers, asking God to help us? We thought that He had decided we should have no more children.”

Mr Beare nodded.

“Well, I think He has answered our prayers after all.”

“You mean… .” He looked at the bedroom door.

His wife nodded, a smile covering her face. “Yes. Emily. I think that God has sent her to us, both in answer to our prayers and to help her, too. I think we should adopt her.”

Mr Beare frowned and shook his head. “I’m not sure, Grace. Adopting a street child? She’s a thief. She entered our house and took things.” He gazed at his wife. 

“She took an opportunity that presented itself. She only did it from fear of this Mr Smith. She’s a beggar, not a thief.”

“It’s a big risk, Grace. Suppose Mr Smith still has some influence over her?”

Mrs Beare sighed. “If she’s living here with us I do not see how Mr Smith, whoever he is, can get to her.” She held onto her husband’s arm and gazed into his eyes. “Please, Albert. You know how I long for another child, especially a little girl. And here God has provided us with one. Are you going to reject God’s gift?” She opened her eyes wide and smiled at him through her eyelashes.

“You know I can’t deny you, especially when you look at me like that.” He bent and kissed her. “I won’t reject God’s gift, either.”

If it had not been unladylike, Mrs Beare would have jumped up and down.

“You realise we’ll have a difficult job getting her civilised?”

She grinned. “Yes, but I like a challenge.”

On entering the room, Emily was huddled in a corner of the bed, holding Jacob the rabbit tightly. She stared at Mrs Beare with wide open eyes.

Mrs Beare sat next to the little girl. “How would you like to live here with us, Emily?”

Emily frowned. “You want me to be a maid here?”

“No, no. I…we want you to be our little girl. Our daughter. We want to adopt you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You will live here with us. We will give you clothes and food. You will go to school. You will have toys. You will have everything our son, Harold, has. He will be your brother.”

“Not go back to Mr Smith?”

“No.”

“And have a rabbit to cuddle, like Jacob?”

“Yes. And other toys, too.”

Mr Beare entered, looking severe. “You’ll have to be good, though. No more stealing.”

Emily put her hand in her pocket and drew out the brooch she had taken from Mrs Beare’s jewellery box. 

She held them towards Mrs Beare. “Sorry. Mr Smith would beat me if I had nothing to give him.” She hung her head as tears filled her eyes.

“You will call me ‘mother’, or mamma, if you prefer, and Mr Beare you will call ‘father’ or ‘papa’. But first we must get you clean and see to those wounds.”

Mrs Beare called Jane and told her to prepare a bath. When the hot water had been poured into the metal bath set before the fire, Mrs Beare washed Emily’s hair and gently sponged her back. Her clothes she gave to Jane with instructions to wash them, and to dry them as quickly as possible before the range. She then plastered a salve on the raw switch marks.

“What are we going to dress you in? You can’t walk around naked. It is indecent.” Mrs Beare thought for a minute. “Wait here, Emily, I won’t be long.” She left the room and sought her husband.

As she crossed the hallway, Jane rushed up the stairs.

“Ma’am, Mrs White says the dinner is ready, and will be spoiling.”

“Oh, Jane, tell Mrs White I’m sorry. We shouldn’t be too much longer. Try to keep it hot, please.”

Jane dropped a curtsey and went back down the stairs. 

Mrs Beare entered the dining room. “Albert, we can’t have Christmas dinner with Emily with no clothes. The vicar has a little girl about the same size as Emily. I’m sure his wife will not mind lending us an old dress of hers.”

Mr Beare rose and tapped his pipe on the side of the fireplace, where a fire blazed. “And you want me to go and ask.”

“Yes, please. She can’t put her old clothes back. Not only are they ragged, but they were filthy, so I had Jane burn them.”

“And I suppose I’ll have to ask for some underwear, too. All right. I’ll go straight away.”

Mrs Beare reached up and kissed him on the cheek, then returned to the sitting room and Emily.

If you would like to read more of my writing, you can click on the books in the sidebar. You will be taken to a page where you can choose your favourite on-line book store.

christmas, Holidays, Poetry

The Littlest Christmas Tree. A Poem

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This is from the second book in my 2 book series of poems, ‘One Poem a Day.’ The first one is called ‘From January to June’ and the second ‘From July to December.

This poem is from Book 2 and is today’s poem.

Image by V.M.Sang and Bing AI

December 16th.

As it gets nearer to Christmas, Christmas trees are going up everywhere. Yes, I know some have been up since November! Here’s a poem about one.

The Littlest Christmas Tree.

The other trees looked oh, so tall
To him, who was so very small.
And now it is the time of year
When everyone is filled with cheer.

Some men came for the tallest tree.
They took him with them, full of glee.
He was going into town.
In Market Square he’d wear a crown.

The littlest tree watched on as folk
Bought others. He was full of hope
That soon he would be picked to go
To a home to put on a show.

But people passed him by and said,
“That one’s too small. That one instead.”
His branches drooped. He felt so sad,
Until a man came, with a lad.

Most other trees had long been sold.
The little tree stood in the cold.
“Look, there’s a small one,” said the lad
As he turned towards his dad.

“It will just fit in our hall.
We can’t have one that is too tall.”
And so they came with spade and dug
Around his roots, all in the mud.

The littlest tree went home with them.
The lights and baubles gleamed like a gem.
He was so happy in that home
With all the love around him shown.

But Christmas passes soon away.
Then there came that dreaded day.
They took away the lights and balls.
“What happens now?” was all his thoughts.

He saw the tall trees passing by
On lorries, going off to die.
Their needles withering and brown
On their proud branches, drooping down.

Fear now filled the littlest tree.
“Is that what’s going to happen to me?”
But then the Dad came with a spade.
“I’ll not throw that for which we’ve paid.”

He dug a deep hole for the roots
And tamped it down with his big boots.
“We’ll let him grow, and then next year
We’ll bring him in again. Don’t fear.

And so the littlest tree was glad
That he’d been bought by this kind dad.
For now he has nothing to fear.
He’s decorated every year.

If you enjoyed this poem, and would like to read more, you can buy from the online store of your choice by clicking the cover below or in the side bar.

The books are available as ebook, hard back or paperback.

Here is the blurb for book 1

Take a lyrical journey through the first half of the year with V.M. Sang’s FROM JANUARY TO JUNE.

This anthology captures the essence of everyday life, nature, and the world around us through the versatile medium of poetry. From haiku to narrative poems, and the humor found in limericks, From January To June is a diverse collection of poetry.

A calendar in creativity, a diary in verse; this collection is the perfect companion for daily reflection and inspiration, providing a poem for each day that resonates with the diverse experiences of life.

And the blurb for book 2

The second book of poetry in V.M. Sang’s One Poem A Day Series takes us through summer to midwinter.

Each day there is a poem to read. These poems are often related to the season, for example, Harvest, or the first flight by the Montgolfier brothers, and of course, Christmas.

The poems are varied in type and length. There are haiku, haibun and tanka, limericks, sonnets, odes and narrative poems among the collection. Some poems are comments on serious subjects, while others are amusing and entertaining.

Many of the poems in this collection are in the traditional vein, so if you enjoy this type of poetry, this book is for you.

history, Poetry

We Will Remember Them: Reflecting on WW1’s Legacy

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Today is Armistice Day. World War 1 ended at 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month.

I wrote a poem to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the end of WW1. I’ve published it before on Dragons Rule OK, and make no apologies for re-publishing it now.

For those of you who haven’t seen it before, I hope you enjoy it and that it makes you think of the futility of war. And to those of you who remember it, similarly.

War is evil and should never happen. It’s always a result of greed and/or hatred; two emotions that should be relegated to the deepest depths of Hell. And as all wars end in talks, why not begin there?

Here’s my poem.

We Will Remember Them.

I’ll never truly understand
How World War I began.
The death of Archduke Ferdinand
Started the deaths of many more,
The young, the old, the rich, the poor.
All died with guns in hand.

    My Grandad went with Uncle Jim 
    And Our Poor Willie, too.
    They sent them off, singing a hymn.
    Grandad went to Gallipoli,
    Uncle Jim left his love, Polly.
    Gas in trenches did kill him.

    I cannot see, in my mind’s eye
    Grandad with gun in hand.
    A peaceful man, sent out to die.
    He fought for us, for you and me
    So we can live and so that we
    Safely in our beds may lie.

    Granddad came home, and Willie too,
    But millions more did not.
    Their duty they all had to do.
    They died in fear, in noise, in blood.
    Everything was caked in mud.
    Yet in those fields the poppies grew.

    The War to end all wars, they said,
    So terrible were the deaths.
    The youth of Europe all lay dead.
    Yet 21 short years to come
    Another war. Once more a gun
    In young men’s hands brought death.

    One hundred years have passed since then.
    What have we learned? Not much!
    Too many men are killing men. 
    Wars still abound around the world.
    Bombs and missiles still are hurled
    At those who disagree with them.

    Uncle Jim was my Grandfather’s brother. I never knew him as I wasn’t born when he died.

    ‘Our poor Willie’ was what my grandmother said when referring to her brother. No one ever knew why he was ‘Our poor Willie’, except that she didn’t get on with his wife and thought she made his life difficult.

    I hope you enjoyed my poem. I wish I thought it might make a difference to the terrible wars going on at the moment, but I’m just a teeny drop in a vast ocean. Sadly, my voice is only heard by a very few people.

    Please let me know what you think in the comments box.

    You can read more of my poetry by clicking on the cover in the side bar. This one comes from Miscellaneous Thoughts.

    book reviews, novel, relationships, romance

    Review of Devilfire Book 1 of American Hauntings by Simone Baudelaire

    5 Comments

    Overview.

    This exciting paranormal romance is set in Texas in 1886. Quite a page turner. There is some explicit sex, but not too much. 

    I am pleased to see that it is book 1. That means I can spend more time with these characters, and see how they continue their development, and if Gavin can come to terms with his own unacknowledged talent.

    Although I don’t usually enjoy graphic sex scenes, there wasn’t too much in this book and it didn’t bother me. What I can’t stand is what seems to be a story simply to carry the sex scenes.

    And I love the cover.

    It is an excellent read.

    Blurb

    Texas, 1885

    In the aftermath of a deadly fire, Dr. Gavin Morris, on hand to render aid to the few survivors, runs into someone he does not expect. Medium Annabelle Smith has arrived to help the dead cross over. Despite the grim work, the two find themselves immediately drawn to one another.

    But this one chance encounter does not end their unexpected connection. Time and again, fate draws them to scenes of destruction, until they can no longer pretend that the fires are natural…and cannot deny that their connection also transcends the ordinary.

    But Annabelle is not all she appears. One of her many secrets may be what saves them… or what ultimately leads to their deaths. Are Gavin and Annabelle doomed to burn with more than passion?

    This western historical/paranormal contains strong religious themes and graphic sex scenes.

    Story.

    A mysterious fire breaks out in the southern states of the US destroying a complete village and killing most of the inhabitants.

    Doctor Gavin Morris is trying his best to help the dying and injured when he meets Annabelle Smith. She appears to be speaking to the ghosts of the dead.

    Gavin does not believe her, but she explains how she has been called here to help the dead on their way. She is emaciated and obviously poor, so Gavin feels sorry for her and wishes to help.

    Not to give too much away, there are more inexplicable fires, and the pair decide to investigate. During their investigations they grow closer. 

    They find themselves in a terrifying situation, being stalked by an entity far more frightening and dangerous than the ghosts.

    Characters 

    I liked the main characters. They had their struggles with both the paranormal and the romantic feelings developing between them. 

    They developed nicely throughout the novel, with Gavin reluctantly accepting Annabelle’s work, and the fact of the ghosts.

    Secondary characters were also well developed, including the ghosts, some of which had to be told they had died. They also kept their worldly characters, especially one rather unpleasant woman.

    Writing

    I thought that Ms Beaudelaire gave us a clear feeling of both time and place. I had a clear picture in my head of every setting, and believed in the characters.

    No grammatical mistakes, nor typos.

    I give this book 5*

      My ranking of books. In order to get a particular number of stars, it is not necessary to meet all the criteria. This is a guide only.

    5* Exceptional. Wonderful story. Setting well drawn, and characters believable–not perfect, but with flaws. Will keep you up all night. No typos or grammatical errors.

    4* A thoroughly enjoyable read. Great and original story. Believable setting and characters. Very few grammatical errors or typos.

    3* I enjoyed it. Good story. Characters need some development. Some typos or grammatical errors.

    2* Not for me. Story not very strong. Unbelievable and flat characters. Setting not clearly defined. Many typos or grammatical errors.

    1* I hated it. Story almost non-existent. Setting poor. Possibly couldn’t finish it.

    Have you read any of Simone Baudelaire’s books? This is the first one I’ve read of hers, but will certainly be looking out for more.

    nature

    In Defence of the Wasp

    19 Comments
    wasp-2300988_1920

    This morning I was watching a wasp flying around the flowers in my garden. It wasn’t bothering me, just going about its business, gathering nectar.

    I remembered that I’d posted about wasps at an earlier date, and so decided it was time to repost it. So here it is!

    I’ve decided to do a post about a much maligned insect. The Wasp.

    We all know the nuisance black and yellow striped creature that buzzes round us when we want to eat outside, and I’ve heard it said, ‘What is the purpose of wasps?’

    Well, here it is. Something that I hope will help to mollify your thoughts on the creatures.

    I was brought to thinking of them last September when I got stung. In all fairness, it wasn’t the wasp’s fault. Well, not entirely, anyway. I saw one in my daughter’s bathroom and decided to let it out of the window. I failed to get it out, and it must have ended up on my clothes, just under my arm. When I put my arm down, it stung in self defence. Still, it didn’t half hurt, and continued to do so for days!

    What we think of as wasps (and hornets), those black and yellow terrors of picnics, are not the only insects to be classified as wasps. Wasps belong to the order of insects called Hymenoptera and there are over a hundred thousand species.

    The black and yellow terrors are communal insects. They build nests of a papery substance created from wood. It usually begins in the spring when a queen lays eggs that hatch into workers. The workers are all female, and their ovipositors are what have become their stings.

    Each spring, a new queen that has hibernated over winter, begins to build a new nest, built of wood she has chewed and mixed with saliva. Then she lays a few eggs. She has to forage herself for food for the hatched grubs until they become adult worker wasps.

    the-hive-3724761_1920

    These wasps only become a real nuisance in the late summer when the queen has stopped laying and no more workers are being produced. They search for food—sweet, sugary substances usually—and that is when they come into contact with humans.

    And we don’t like it.

    Most of the rest of the year, they are happily capturing insects and feeding on nectar from flowers. In fact, they are important pollinators. Not something most people know, but with the problems with the bee population recently, perhaps we should consider them more kindly.

    wasp-3603869_1920

    Most wasps are not social, though, and live a solitary life. Some live in communities, with nests close to each other, but do not interact, except to sometimes steal each others’ prey. Some species actually build communal nests, but each adult wasp has her own cell, and there is no division of labour or community work. The females each catch and feed their own grubs.

    The prey of these wasps is spiders and insects. They feed them to the grubs, which are carnivorous, but the adults usually feed on nectar. As such, they are useful to help get rid of unwanted insect pests.

    Then there are the parasitic wasps. They lay their eggs in the body of the prey animal. The grubs then eat their way through the insides of the poor creature. Others lay their eggs in the tissue of plants. The plant responds by creating a gall around the growing grub.

    ichneumonoidea-2181464_1920


    I admit I’m not the most generous of people to wasps. It’s now spring, and the queens are coming out to find a place to build their nests. Just this morning, while I was working at my computer, I heard a buzzing by the open window. It disappeared, but returned soon after. This happened several times and so I got up to investigate. A wasp was clearly inspecting the brickwork around my window. It then had the temerity to enter and start to look around my husband’s computer.

    I went downstairs and got the Wasp and Fly killer and zapped it as it went back to the window. (I didn’t want to spray the killer onto my husband’s computer, just in case! I’ve no idea what it might do to it.) I might know they are important predators and pollinators, but I don’t want hundreds of them just outside the room where I work.

    So please spare a thought for the poor wasp. They aren’t as useless as you thought.

    Please leave your thoughts on the wasp in the comments box. Do you think they are useless, or do they have some use after all?

    announcement, fantasy, novel

    Unmissable Deal: Bestselling Elemental Worlds Collection Now Available at 0.99 ($ or £)

    7 Comments

    The Elemental Worlds duo has been added to Next Chapter Best Sellers page. I’m thrilled about this.

    Amazon ranking:
    Best Sellers Rank: 820 in Kindle Store (See Top 100 in Kindle Store)
    1 in British & Irish Literature Anthologies
    1 in Fantasy Anthologies (Kindle Store)
    1 in Fiction Anthologies (Kindle Store)

    Currently, the duo is available for the low price of 0.99 ($ or £). Don’t miss this chance of getting two bestselling books. This offer ends next Wednesday, 21th August, so don’t delay.

    You can buy the Elemental Worlds Collection by following this link.

    Don’t hesitate. Click the link NOW before it’s too late.

    The books are available in other formats, paperback and hardback, and also as an audiobook.

    See other Next Chapter Best Sellers by clicking here.

    fantasy, novel

    Jovinda’s Court Presentation at Aspirilla: A Noble’s Exciting Experience

    13 Comments


    I asked Jovinda to tell us about her visit to Aspirilla, the captial of Grosmer, when she went to be presented at court. Here is what she told me.

    Me: Hello, Jovinda. I hear you recently went to court and met the king, queen and Crown Prince Gerim.

    Jovinda: Oh yes! It was so exciting. I’d recently celebrated my sixteenth birthday and so I was now of age. When girls of the nobility, or from other important families, come of age, they usually get presented at court.

    Father received a letter with the Royal Seal on it. He wouldn’t say what it was and took it to his study to read. I was jumping up and down, wanting to know what it said, but he made me and Mother wait until dinner time to tell us.

    When he read it out, my stomach turned over. I was included in the guest list! I could hardly eat my dinner for excitement.

    The next day, we went to see Madame Frimb, the best dressmaker in Bluehaven. She made a wonderful dress in green velvet. It set off my auburn hair perfectly.

    The dress had a high neckline with small pearl buttons sewn around it. The buttons ran down the centre of the bodice and the sleeves stopped at my elbow with pearl buttons around the cuffs. The skirt flared from my waist to give my feet room to move during the dancing. And it had more pearl buttons around the hem.

    I was so excited I hardly slept that night. Nor the others before the banquet. I was dreaming of dancing with the prince. I thought I would look so beautiful that he would fall in love with me at first sight.

    That didn’t happen, of course, but something even more wonderful did. I met my true love, Nolimissalloran, know as Noli. He was an elf, and so beautiful.

    But that’s another story. If you want to learn about what happened, you need to read Jovinda and Noli.

    It’s available in all formats by clicking the link on the name, or the book cover in the side-bar.

    Here is a short extract from the book:

    Jovinda and her parents stood at the top of the stairs leading down to the reception room in the Palace. Jovinda scanned the room looking for Prince Gerim. The prince was not quite sixteen, but would be at such an important banquet as the heir to the throne. She frowned slightly as she noticed a young elf watching her as she descended the stairs.

    Ellire had decided the best style for her dress for the banquet would be, not like the elaborate dresses they saw hanging in Madame Frimb’s workroom, but a simple style.

    Jovinda saw the green velvet fabric and fell in love with the colour. Ellire agreed it would look good on her, and then went to discuss a style with Madame Frimb. The dress she now wore had a high neckline with small pearl buttons sewn around it. The buttons continued down the centre of the otherwise plain bodice with sleeves that stopped at her elbow. They also had pearl buttons around the cuffs. The skirt flared from her waist giving room for her feet to move when dancing, and more pearl buttons graced the hem. She wore small pearl drops in her ears and a white orchid in her hair.

    The family walked down the stairs as a butler announced them. Jovinda stared around. The stairs descended from the balcony where they had entered, and flared out towards the bottom. A red carpet ran down the centre. Large floor to ceiling windows to her right opened onto the palace gardens, and doors carved with vines and fruits stood open on the opposite side. Torches in sconces lit the room, and glinted on the gold-leaf that covered the cornice. More gold covered a few chairs scattered around for those unable to stand for long, and at the opposite end of the room was a dais with two thrones, again, covered in gold leaf.

    A waiter brought a tray of drinks.

    Jovinda took a glass of Perimo, a sparkling wine from the islands, as she chatted with many of her parents’ friends and acquaintances, feeling very grown up.

    Suddenly, a horn sounded. Everyone stopped talking and looked towards the stairs. The Royal Family entered and made their way through the crowd to the dais.

    As they passed, people bowed their heads or curtseyed.

    Once the king and queen settled onto their thrones, the butler announced the first of the young people to be presented.

    As it was her first social occasion, Jovinda was one of those young people. When the butler called her name, she looked at her father who mouthed “Go on, Jo”.

    Her mother gave her a little push to start her on her way.

    She took a deep breath to try to calm her racing heart, and ascended the dais where she curtseyed to the king and queen.

    The king smiled and his eyes twinkled. “We are delighted to meet you, Jovinda. Enjoy the occasion. There’s nothing quite like your first ball.” 

    Then she moved on. Prince Gerim smiled at her and shook her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Jovinda.”

    Jovinda curtseyed. He’s quite good-looking. I wonder if I can attract his attention? He may even ask me to dance. I wonder what kind of girls he likes?

    If you decide to buy and read this book, I would be grateful for an honest review.

    Warning: It contains adult themes that some might find upsetting.

    short story, stories

    What we can learn from Goldilocks?

    4 Comments

    I just read this post. I’d never considered this as the theme of the story.

    DID GOLDILOCKS HAVE A POINT?
    entertainment, fantasy, Give Away, novel

    A Fun Romp.

    Leave a comment
    The day after tomorrow—April 1—Kor’Thank: Barbarian Valley Girl will be FREE on Kindle for five days!
    grammar, Grammar Help

    Slack Use of Language

    17 Comments

    First of all, apologies for no post last week, but I had visitors and didn’t manage to find the time.

    I have noticed a decline in the use of the English language for a while now. It is especially concerning in people who should have an excellent knowledge of the language. People such as Radio and TV correspondents, journalists and well-educated experts.

    On Sunday there was a news item on Radio 4 about another eruption of the Icelandic volcano that’s currently active. I was on my way out of the kitchen when I heard the ‘expert’ say a word that made me turn back and ask, “Did she just say ‘vigourent’?”

    My nephew, who was staying with us, said, “Yes, she did.”

    Vigourent!

    From an ‘expert’.

    I looked it up, thinking it might be a word I don’t know, but it doesn’t appear to be.

    This morning, on Sky’s scrolling news, it said, “The Princess of Wales has been seen in public for the first time after her operation at a Windsor farm shop.”

    It would have been slightly better with a comma after ‘operation’, I think, but not much.

    What’s wrong with, “The Princess of Wales has been seen at a Windsor farm shop for the first time since her operation”?

    Syntax has gone. The latter happens all the time. Ambiguous statements.

    As to making up words–yes, I know Shakespeare did it–it confuses the issue. When The Bard made up a word, it was obvious what he meant from the context. And he was William Shakespeare! An expert in the use of words.

    Finally, there’s a confusion amongst some people as to when to use the past participle. (This is often amongst sports reporters). I hear , ” He has went,” or “She has ran,” and other similar things all the time.

    Grrr!

    How do you feel about the slack use of language? Let us know in the comments box.

    Thank you for reading.