A Sad Tale Of Toes, by Danny Kemp



A Sad Tale Of Toes

His feet were warm, having been spread out in front of the hot radiator whilst he worked at his desk. Hers, on the other hand, were cold. Freezing cold!

She had not worn slippers to protect her feet, preferring to simply tuck them under herself, sitting in a leather armchair watching the TV. Now they were about to strike!

After stretching his stiff legs against the crisp chill of the freshly laundered bed sheet, he lay on his left shoulder, his right foot slightly upon his left, keeping the warmth within his body as much as he could. Her right foot led the attack.

It was a strategy he was accustomed to, but he was not aware of just how cold her feet were. The big toe was first into the fray, surreptitiously sliding against the underside of his overhanging right heel. The next move was not her usual method of attack. She had recently read a recount of Nelson’s attack on the French fleet. Nelson’s innovative move had surprised them, now it was about to succeed in bed!

Or was IT?

Both feet then attacked simultaneously.

Raising her leg she placed her knee heavily against his kidney, causing her right foot to slide further up his pyjama clad leg, as her left foot slipped between both his feet. He could take no more……..

“Why dear love do you do make such a move,

When you have only to choose

My advances of thrills and bliss

Bestowed on your body but without the risk 

Of freezing my ardor before it does start

By allowing your cold to attack my heart?”

He was Russian. A man of few words.

She was Italian and the opposite, being verbose in the extreme. Only this time he never heard most of her words as she mounted the most ferocious physical attack he had ever been involved in.

She rolled on top of him, pinning him uncomfortably against the bed.

“Ardor you say? You obviously don’t mean harder,

As you couldn’t care less if you tried!

You keep your warmth to yourself, as if your skin’s been fried.

I’m sick of you with your selfish ways, and inconsiderate behaviour too.

You’re just about to be hit on the head, with this heel attached to my shoe!”

She pounded away, never stopping for breath, nor ceasing to curtail her blows.

She sneezed in excitement, but even that, didn’t stop her to blow her own nose.

By now she was away. Her body now warmed, even sweat appearing on her brow.

It was now that he flipped, no more could he take. He swore this solemn vow!

“I promise my love, that from this day, no more are my feet just my own.

I admit my faults. ‘Tis true that my love for you I have not always shown.

I will warm you through, be kind to you, by sharing my bodily heat.

Now please my love, be gentle with me, go lay on top of my feet.”

This tale of toes is not over, it never ended that night as if a sweet dream.

As his feet lost their heat, it finally ended in a terrible, piercing scream!

Her love had departed along with his heat, but that was not all that he lost.

He now saves money, by paying less, than his regular pedicure did cost!

Do take seriously all your wife’s woes,

Or else you too might lose some toes!

© 2014, Danny Kemp. All rights reserved.


Posted by on October 19, 2014 in Author/Writer, Raconteur


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DF Author 26.04.12_PD2026558_m

I am a sixty-five year old London taxi driver who wrote a book in 2012 that is now under its third consecutive years paid option to become a $30,000,000 film.

Six years earlier in 2006 I had a road traffic accident that left me unable to work effectively for almost four years. I was diagnosed as suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and as a consequence; scared stiff to drive!

I believe that my whole experience could be inspirational to others who have, or, are, suffering a stress related illness and a way of relating how life can change for the better even in those most darkest of days.

The opportunity of my novel becoming a film was never of supreme importance to me when I wrote it, although it is every writers dream. It was simply because I had found a divergence from real life. That initial necessity has since developed into a love of that art.



The story is centred on one family, the Earls of Harrogate, who since the fourteenth century have been the sole custodians of a secret and surreptitious bank in London’s Queen Anne’s Gate, affectionately known as Annies.

In 2007 Lord Elliot Patterson takes over the running of the bank from his father and decides to upgrade the old ledgers into digital format.

He discovers, in a hidden away 1937 ledger, a huge sum of money beginning to disappear. There is an address in Leningrad, Russia, appended in a margin along with two sets of initials. He suspects that his grandfather, Lord Maudlin Paterson, may have been funding a Russian spy!

Fearful of the disgrace this would cause, Elliot telephones his estranged eldest son, Harry, and tells of his suspicions.

Six months later Lord Elliot is found shot dead in the family’s London town house.

Harry, who on leaving the Army had been recruited in the Secret Intelligence Services, is recalled from the estate in Yorkshire to throw any light he may have on his father’s murder. He seemingly mets by accident an attractive woman in Duke’s Hotel, St James’s, whom he believes to be on the ‘pick up.’

However, she, Judith Meadows, works for the Home Office and knows more about his family than Harry does.

The story is told through the dialogue of the developing rubber band relationship the two have, whereby Harry doesn’t want to tell Judith of his farther’s suspicions, and Judith won’t divulge the full extent of her knowledge to Harry. Until at last they must come together to find whether or not there is a Russian spy, and who murdered Lord Elliot.

My journey has been one of differing sensations. The excitement of being a published writer, with the twenty odd Waterstones book signings and a recent appearance on ITV news at 6pm, set against the constant threat of losing our home.

In order to live through that time off work, caused by the accident, I incurred a mortgage excess of some £80,000 which the bank has now asked to be repaid. I received virtually no compensation for that event.

The only way my wife and I have to rectify this situation is to sell our home, a process we are going through now. We will not be in a position to buy another home!

That journey however, would never have begun without that first dramatic life changing event which I and my family lived through. Another is about to happen, and that too will be overcome.

Thank you for reading this.


Posted by on October 18, 2014 in Author/Writer, Raconteur


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A Poor World, by Danny Kemp


If I had more hair then I’d pull some out.
If I had a loud voice then I’d scream and shout.

But I’m just a single voice locked in a cacophony of sound.
Where in this world is there good news that could be spread around?

© 2014, Danny Kemp. All rights reserved.

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Posted by on October 16, 2014 in Author/Writer, Raconteur


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Write It For Her Anyway

Originally posted on Storyshucker:

My grandmother, Nannie, died over twenty years ago but I still tear up at her memory. At the time she died I had never written much at all, and certainly not attempted poetry, but the urge to express what she meant to me kept surfacing. Her love of God and her insistence that we would all be together again were on my mind as I thought about writing a poem. Nannie was a second mother to all of her grandchildren, helping our mothers raise us, watch out for us, worry over us and pray for us.

Just after Nannie died I mentioned to a friend while she and I were at lunch that I had a poem in mind about Nannie, one that kept surfacing when I least expected it. I wished I’d written something for Nannie before she died so she could have read it. My friend had one response.

“Write it for her anyway.”


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Posted by on October 12, 2014 in Author/Writer, Raconteur


A Comment About The Desolate Garden.


 People are all different. Some are kind in their comments, and others the opposite. But there’s a third type; those that go that step further with their warm-heartedness and compassion.

This is from Diann Polchinski. I hope she doesn’t mind me reposting it.

Diann wrote:

“Danny, I got your book on kindle for my dad. He read it twice and was so hoping to see it as a movie. Sadly he died almost two months ago. In the 8 years he lived with us he read over 300 books. Yours was one of the few he read twice and one of the very few he gave top marks to. So, when the movie is made, I will go to see it for him. Ok, for me to, lol. I thank you for giving my dad hours of great reading and please know, he hoped you would write more and never give up on seeing it make the big screen.”

It knocked me over!

The Desolate Garden…

The Desolate Garden…


Posted by on October 12, 2014 in Author/Writer, Raconteur


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BRAVO, by Danny Kemp


I am bored by banality,
Give me wisdom, show me hope!
You show me life through a one dimensional telescope.

Widen your views. Venture somewhere new.
You’re taking your opinions from the back of the queue!

Form your own thoughts, think something fresh.
You are not a machine, you’re made of living flesh.

Step away from banality. Walk away from the shallow.
Hear the cries ring out as the violin plays: Bravo, Bravo, Bravo!

© 2014, Danny Kemp. All rights reserved.

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Posted by on October 12, 2014 in Author/Writer, Raconteur


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As the clouds touch the mountains, and the sea washes ashore,

So my whole life I do devote to you; forever more.

As the sun warms our hearts, and the rain cleanses our skin,

Let love be our companion and we’ll stay; forever therein.

As our spirits never fade, nor our devotion never part

I wish these words to be engraved; forever in your heart.

As life closes in, and our earthly allegiance must die,

So my loyalty and respect for you will; forever lie!

© 2014, Danny Kemp. All rights reserved.


Posted by on October 5, 2014 in Author/Writer, Raconteur


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