Millie Was Gray


“Millie was gray.”

“The two bitches was gold.”

The doors shut and the outside light slid over the train like vaseline

and nobody looked at anyone else

but everyone saw everything…

“Millie was gray.

The two bitches was gold…”

She had a head of ragged hair and a voice with a crack in the middle,

and her strange lit eyes never wavered from the space between her feet.

She sat,

repeating her lines,

in monotonous rhythm,

as the train played counterpoint.

Millie was gray…”

Ker thump 

Ker thump

“The two bitches was gold.”

There are rooms in trains and in boxes, 

and in alcohol wipe smelling corridors,

and inside heads,

that lead no where,

offer no exit,

and once inside let you bump endlessly into the walls

as you vainly try to progress.

While you remember that you have a destination…

Ker thump 

Ker thump

“Millie was…”

Watching the light tap the windows as the train accelerates,

anxious for the last lap,

gathering up newspapers and coffee cups

and confusion and broken bits of words and 

jettisoning them at the station.

The unseen wall still there,

still taking the battering,

still allowing no escape.

“Millie was gray.”


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This Strange Place


It’s a strange place, 

that louring sky and expansive sand swept landscape

 inside my head.

Where no one sits and sings, 

or bakes cakes,

or watches leaves turn colors,

or laughs.

Where nothing ever changes and no one ever wins…

no one plays at all.

A space kept blank and bland

with no moving parts or beating heart,

no favorite candy bar,

no late night thoughts.

It should be a clean place,

it should be,

but instead it’s greasy to the touch,

and rough on the lungs

 like breathing steel filings.

And it’s no wonder 

that no one wants to live here,

but the more I try to avoid it,

the fuller and more clamorous it gets.

And I have been cast,

by myself,

in the part of constant smoother

and placator,

to save anyone else

the rasp and sting 

of this strange place…




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The Elephants Graveyard

It’s a new moon in the elephants graveyard,

and the procession approaches with a thudding grace

 felt underfoot,

a ripple along the viscera.

And the trees rise black and sharp against the pewter sky,

and the bones

lie piled in solemn spacings,

all deckled edges and memory pressed,

as the moon stands silent sentinel overhead.

It’s a new moon in the elephants graveyard

and the packed earth rumbles in recognition

as the memory keepers close around.

The wise eyes dark with the burden of years,

the air full of tears and longing, 

even the hills sigh as they pass,

the ghosts following like pale mourners,

and the morning will rise only after it is certain,

that their time of committal is done.




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Some new friends for Mr Fray

#sendmeyourfaces  #friendsofmrfray



image1Mr Fray in artwork!


‘Mr. Fray’ is available at Amazon the world over!

and don’t forget to… 


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Show Me Your Faces!

Mr Fray is making friends far & near….



#showmeyourfaces  #friendsofmrfray

‘Mr Fray’ by Jaye Tomas is available at Amazon.





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Genre Wars

I knew this would happen….but I just didn’t think it would be this fast. As anyone who follows me knows, I recently launched my first children’s book ‘Mr. Fray’, the story of a grumpy hedgehog. It was quite a departure from my previous books of poetry, I grant you that. But my muse is not a gracious lady draped in shimmering robes and scattering helpful ideas like rose petals. More the overcaffeinated Miss Trunchbull type.

Anyway, the inspiration for the book came to me when I was gifted a raggedy looking stuffed hedgehog. I immediately christened him Mr Fray because he looked frayed (ahhh…the amazing power of the brain huh?) I had no plan, the story just kind of whomped out to my surprise – mine actually most of all.

Most of the people who have given feedback were lovely, and seemed to be enjoying the story. And then………

**insert Jaws theme music here**

What right do I have trying to bludgeon (bludgeon? really?) my way into kids books? 

Don’t I realize how overcrowded that genre is already?

And…my favorite (grimacing) so far….



I wasn’t aware of trying to kid anyone. Brilliant thing that I am….pulling the wool over your eyes by POSTING ABOUT IT and USING MY NAME. 

I also wasn’t aware that the genre you begin in locks you in for all eternity. (she typed sarcastically)


As always, the wonderful support and humor and feedback from most people is amazing and humbling. 

There is always a troll lurking somewhere, I hope it just makes me appreciate all the good people more. Hugs all ’round.


Genre Traitor
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TA DA! The moment you have all been waiting for…………(with apologies to Monty Python)

Please allow me to introduce you to….



My new (and only so far) childrens book featuring a cranky, grumbling, yet goodhearted hedgepig. (no, there is NOTHING autobiographical about this. Honestly….I have never, not once, been a hedgehog. heh…heh)

Followers of this blog, my previous books and other scribblings will know that this is a new type of writing for me…



But I was inspired by this little guy:


and I ran with it…and never looked back.

I approached a wonderful artist and showed her the outline of the story and she created the amazing images you will find in the book. Angelise Tomasino brought Mr. Fray to life and he is more than I had dreamed of. That’s what a brilliant artist can do for you. So applause please for the lady….she done good.

I know….I know….I know what you are thinking;

“Jaye…..your usual kind of poetry isn’t remotely child-friendly, how did this happen?”

And I will answer you honestly.

I haven’t a clue.

Maybe as I said before (or above) its was just time for…..


It happens! Sometimes it’s good to step out of the box. Sometimes you need to try, even if it isn’t comfortable. Sometimes you need to say….



Moving swiftly along….

Anyway, please get acquainted with Mr. Fray and his friends. I hope you like him.

I do.

Mr Fray is available at Amazons all over the world!

There will also be a giveaway soon….so watch this space!








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