What are Ozlandish Writings?

From July 2010 to December 2014 we ran OZLAND PICTURE STORIES as described below. Sadly though the number of writers reduced over the years and we decided to call it a day. We leave these as a record of the good times we had.

Are "You" ready to challenge your writing skills? Then participate in our OZLAND Picture Stories writing series at The Ozland Art Gallery.

Each month a new picture will be picked, from our OZLAND Artist of the Month collection, with different themes. Your goal is to write a 500-1000 word... poem... essay... or story about the picture picked. This is a chance for you to challenge your writing skills each month. Story can be written in ANY genre... sci fi... romance... ghost... fantasy... fiction... non-fiction... biography... mystery... historical... whatever your writing genre... feel free to experiment. Send your writing inworld to Sven Pertelson as a notecard to have it included on the web site. We meet at the The Ozland Art Gallery each Wednesday at Noon and 6pm SLT to read the latest submissions on voice. More Information

Thursday, December 30, 2010

Monday, December 27, 2010

Rover’s Christmas Surprise - by lillian Morpork

Rover ran full tilt at his door, needing to get outside fast. He’d had an unusually big, and delicious meal, and his stomach was overloaded. He put his head down and aimed at the door flap, hit....and was sitting back on his haunches, with a pain in his head. ‘What’s wrong?’ he barked. ‘Why is my flap locked?’ Shaking his head, he stood up and looked at his master. ‘Why the miserable creature, he’s laughing! Doesn’t he know that HURT?’ Rover whined, and stood staring up. ‘Why did you lock my door?’ he rumbled. His master reached over and stroked the dog’s head. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed,” he said. “But it did look funny. Come on, I’ll let you out the front door. This one is frozen shut.”

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Christmas - by lillian Morpork

The winter cold is here, wind blows,
Fingers nearly frozen, so's my nose.
Sidewalks all slushy, slippery walking.
Have to mail those Christmas parcels
Buy some sweet tasty Christmas morsels.
Listen to sweet voices carol singing,
All done now, I can take my rest,
Wishes sent to those I love best.
Hearing all the church bells ringing.

A Nove Otto poem - 9 lines of 8 syllables, rhyme scheme aac bbc ddc

Gone? - and - Island Winter - by lillian Morpork

Gone ?

Christmas decorations
Shining brightly on the
Fence and door.
The house is empty

Island Winter

Wind is blowing
Waves are growing bigger, wilder,
Spray and water reaching the house.
Soon all is covered in ice.

These two are Naani poems an Indian style. 15 to 25 syllables in 4 lines, with a thought break between second and third or third and fourth

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

There's no place like HOME! By Llola Lane

Alone and frightened the little bear sat and wondered WHY on earth he had allowed his brothers and sisters to talk him into playing hide and seek? He thought this little ice cave was a safe hiding place. How did he know the earth would shake from under him and break it off into the cold ocean? NOW... how was he going to get home?

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

The Christmas Stranger - by lillian Morpork

“Dad, Bethy and I want to take the plane over to the island with the cousins for a winter picnic. Is that OK? I thought, if it is, we could check and see if there are any last minute supplies we could take for Phineas and Phoebe. Richard Pringle looked st his father, trying to hide his eagerness, and waited. James Pringle eyed his son closely, and suddenly realised that he was no longer a little boy. Richard was now able to look him straight in the eyes - he had become a young adult. Smothering a sigh at the thought, Jim gave a brief nod.

Monday, December 6, 2010

The Lonely House - by lillian Morpork

It stands, dark, quiet, alone
Blindly gazing out to sea.
No sounds but the sighing wind,
The seabirds, waves crashing on the rocks.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010


Star Light, Star Bright
The waves seem so white tonight!
Crashing in and out the shores
Bringing a cold mist to our doors.

A Christmas Gift - by lillian Morpork

Whisper Wallace staggered across the crunchy snow, so cold he could no longer shiver. This whole caper had gone wrong from the beginning, starting when he agreed to be in on it. Then Noisless Stalkerman had had to back out at the last minute due to a broken leg. Whisperer cursed to himself. If that fool hadn’t gone out drinking the night before they were to leave....! And the boat that was supposed to be available for their escape, when he found it, was sunk just offshore, with a big hole in it. Must have been wrecked on the rocks during the last big storm. And he had slipped on the rocks, and fallen flat in the icy water. He was soaked through.

Christmas on Cabbage Island - by Sven Pertelson

The red air ambulance was just starting up by the dock as I raised the flag from its half mast position. The chopper was taking the usual winter caretaker of Cabbage Island off to hospital in Lewiston where his broken hip could be treated. He was lucky that one of the passing fishermen from Boothbay on their last trip out before Christmas had noticed that the flag was not fully raised as normal.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Miracle Child - lilian Morpork

The little girl skipped along the shore, feet splashing in the shallow water. She hummed as she went, looking down, seeking pretty seashells and stones. Suddenly, she turned her head and looked up across the sand to where her mother sat under a shady tree. She giggled, and sang aloud: “Mother, may I go out to swim?” Her mother looked up and, smiling, sang “Yes, my darling daughter,” then they both sang “Hang your clothes on a Hickory limb, and Don’t go near the water!”

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Seaside Fun - by lillian Morpork

Come little sister, come with me,
Down to the seashore, down to the sea.
We’ll search and find some pretty shells,
And hear the stories the wavelet tells,

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Without a Trace - by lillian Morpork

                          Daughter of Canada’s richest man vanished while
                                      playing on private Florida beach.

A Timeless Treasure - by Llola Lane

She stood with the skeleton key in her hand... She hated this. The key found the lock and opened the attic door easily. She loved her grandmother and missed her. But this HAD to be done. Everything was left to her and it was her responsibility to go through her grandmother's things and sort them for the house sale.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

She is a Seaside Princess - by Llola Lane

She is a seaside princess
so pretty and so small
with lots of beaches to explore
she's sure to find them all!

Princess from the sea - by lillian Morpork

The woman stood on the shore, watching her seven year old charge, and remembering. It was that long ago that, saddened by the loss of her newborn daughter, lonely and depressed, she had walked through the forest, following a stream to the seashore, when the tide was on the ebb. She stood for a moment, then kicked off her shoes and started walking out toward the receding water. There was a rock out there that was submerged under at least four feet of water at high tide. She intended to sit on it and tie her legs down, and let the water take her. Life held nothing but sorrow and loneliness, and she was ready to give up.

Saturday, October 30, 2010

Monday, October 25, 2010

An Experience of Evil -by lilian Morpork

My name is Hannah Campbell, and I had a very weird and frightening experience. I had been attending an evening lecture at the university, and when I went outside, I found that the weather had deteriorated, and it was storming. The temperature had dropped, and the wind was howling, blowing sleet across almost horizontally. I had about ten blocks to go, but it was going to take me a long time, fighting my way through the storm. There was no hope of flagging down a cab, not in weather like this. I sighed, and set out.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Taken By the Sidhe - by lillian Morpork

Listen, mo ghra*, and you will hear
A tale that I swear is true.
It happened to me, at this time of year;
Take heed, lest it happen to you.
*= muh hraw = my love

Thursday, October 14, 2010

The Turn of the Wheel - by ranxid Mathilde

Miriam awoke, not with a start but with that slow sleepy draw towards consciousness that feels warm and embracing. Like the whole of the world were welcoming her back from a deep slumber of wayfaring dreams. She began to notice the shimmering sound of running water and the gentle chirping of birds singing their songs back and forth. A tiny liquid tickle ran down her cheek and she raised her hand to her face as she opened her eyes. She wiped the moisture to the back of her hand and held it out above her to see a tiny collection of dew and her hand framed by high, lush tree tops alive with the warm green colors of spring.

The Battle for the Forest -- The Gathering by Tito Bellic

The Wind howled through the leavens and branches of The Great Tree. Ancient and Wise were Her branches. She has felt an uneasiness growing over the centuries. Winter was approaching again, but this was not that cause of Her unease. The changing Seasons were the Natural Order of things. No, the coming cold winter or the falling leaves from Her branches were not the cause of Her unease. The Humans were drawing closer. Too close for Her comfort.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

“A Forest Fae Tale“ by Llola Lane

Once upon a time in a forest far far away there lived two fae sisters. One was a White Fae the other was a Black Fae. They both dreamed of marrying the White Fae prince, although neither one of them had met him before. But tonight was their chance. The great fae ball was tonight, in the center of the forest. It was rumored that tonight he would pick his mate. All the faes would be there.

Friday, October 8, 2010

Who’s Best? by lillian Morpork

One aeon, the Archangels Mihael, angel of Loyalty, and Ezekiel, angel of Death and Transformation, were walking around Heaven, chatting and watching various happenings. Mihael was tall, slender, and inhumanly handsome, gave off a subdued white glow. Ezekiel, just as tall and handsome had a darker aura, his glow was more shadowed.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Away with the Fae - by Sven Pertelson

I’ve been ‘away with the Fae’ for years. Some day, I hope,  I’ll find my way back to the real world. That is unless they kill me first.

"Good vs. Evil" by Llola Lane

Good vs. Evil
Black and White
Why don't we get along?
I don't wanna fight!

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Wednesday, September 22, 2010


As I stood in line waiting my turn I looked at the people waiting with me. An elderly gentleman held the hand of who I am sure was his wife in front of me. I wonder if they will survive the trip. Elderly people were told to stay in their homes because they may not survive the long journey. These two must really be willing to gamble their lives literally away. My attention turned to a mother with a small toddler. Surely the child was too small. He didn't even come to my waist. What was the height restriction I wondered? Behind me a dog barked. Animals WERE allowed. So far all animals had survived the trip.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Who am I…? - By: LorettaYoung Khaos

I laugh to myself as I think of mankind. Silly little beings with such diminutive lives, how easily they are confused. I am so much more than their underdeveloped minds can conceive, so much greater than anything they have yet, or will ever realize. I have been mistaken as many elements thrown together by early thinkers. I was described as a rudimentary, lifeless lump, massive disorder. Who am I you ask?

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Memories - by lillian Morpork

Sitting quietly in the darkened living room, with only one candle burning, I look out the window. The storm has been raging now for what seems to be hours, but is really only about half an hour. It is one of the wildest thunder storms I have ever seen. Lightning streaks the sky, dancing on legs of fire over the rooftops of the buildings. There is no more than a heartbeat between flashes, and the thunder growls and crashes continuously. I have seen the CN Tower struck half a dozen times. Sometimes the bolts start at a distance, and then seem to make a right angle turn before they strike. It is a spectacular sight.

Saturday, September 4, 2010

Thor’s Apocalypse by lillian Morpork

He’d been sleeping, mighty Thor,
A sleep that lasted aeons long,


And the gods said... LET THERE BE LIFE... and 10 gods united and mighty lift up their arms into space and bolts of lightning grow from their arm to the space close to the sun. KA BOOOM!!! A seed planted. The seed swirls and grows getting bigger and bigger to form a planet. It shoots mountains into the sky and sinks deep crevices into the earth. And the crevices fill with water and tiny fish appear. And the gods smile.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

The Apocalypse from Space - by lillian Morpork

The attack came, unseen, unexpected. Thousands of drones hidden behind the moon struck, and all communications satellites failed, the space station disintegrated and the settlements on the moon and Mars died in flames. We saw the flares from earth. We had no communications left but line of sight, here on earth. Then the drones flooded down and within twenty four hours, billions were dead and the last of the power grid was gone.

The Thunder Rolls - by Llola Lane

The thunder rolls across the desert...
making loud noises as it passes
and blinding light as it flashes.

Shelter from the Storm - by Sven Pertelson

Warm air, like an oven door opening, swept across his face as the storm drew closer. He had seen the thunderheads growing for the last hour and could still see no signs of shelter. This was going to be a monster of a storm. Looking at the barren land ahead, treeless, dusty brown he could see nowhere to hide from the approaching maelstrom.

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

OZLAND Picture Story for August 2010

Your inspiration for stories in August 2010

Sunday, August 22, 2010

The Night Ed Died - by lillian Morpork

“Did I ever tell ya” the old geezer said
As he ran his hand ‘cross his round bald head,
“Of that turrible night in Morgan’s Town
When Big Bart Barker shot Ed Stanley down?
‘Twur an awful sight!

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Ed is dead at Morgan's saloon - Amythe Moonlight

Ed is dead at Morgan's saloon
I heard them shout  in various shades of panic
Is it true? I asked  you. Yes you said .Ed is dead

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Hot Chow in the Hoosegow - by lilian Morpork

Zeke and I had been prospecting in the mountains for nigh on two years. It turned out to be a total waste of time. In that whole time, we didn’t get enough gold to fill a tooth. We finally decided to head back to civilization, or as much as we could find in the area around the foothills. On the way down, we ran into an unseasonal snow and sleet storm, and had to hole up in a small cave. We were stuck there for three days before things cleared enough for us to move on, and it stayed cold for the next week.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Farewell to Morgan’s Town - by lillian Morpork

The young woman slipped out of the shadows by the saloon and approached the Stage Coach driver. “Sir, I have my ticket, sorry I am so late.” she said softly.

He had just finished loading passengers and luggage, and was about to mount to the box, so he turned angrily at her voice. Taking in the slender body loaded down with luggage and baby, his face softened.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

The Gimmick - by Sven Pertelson

The mood was ugly in Morgan’s Saloon . I sat at the bar with both my hands in clear view . In the cracked mirror over the bar I could see Ed lying by the poker table. I was pretty sure he was dead .

Monday, August 9, 2010

“MEMORIES” by Llola Lane

“Bang… Bang… You’re dead,” said the little girl.  “Ugggh… Ya got me” said her father as he fell to the floor, the toy gun falling to his feet.

It had been years since she’d been back to Morgan’s Saloon but she could still see the look on her father’s face as he clutched his chest and fell to the floor.  Those were happy times… She missed him.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Hit or Flop? - by lillian Morpork

“Hey, Sheriff! Ed’s dead!” Cassidy raced into the jail house yelling, almost bowling Sheriff Armstrong over. Armstrong grabbed Cassidy by a shoulder to slow him down, and to keep his own balance.

Poor Ed a Fibonacci poem - by lillian Morpork

Is dead!

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Food for Thought! - By Llola Lane

"TIMBER!!!"...the little mouse yelled at the top of its lungs, as the giant gunslinger fell to the floor. The little mouse made it out of the way just in time. The gunslinger moved.. groaned.. lifted himself partway off the floor, then fell flat on his face. The little mouse sniffed.. Was the man drunk?? Was he dead?? The gunslinger did not move again and no one came to help him up.

Ed is Dead - by Llola Lane

Ed is dead
he's lost his head

in a gunfight no less
about a lass

Saturday, July 31, 2010

OZLAND Picture Story for July 2010

What does this picture inspire you to write?  Please see the Guidelines

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

The Night After Christmas - by lillian Morpork

The Night After Christmas
by lillian Morpork

‘Tis the night after Christmas, and all through the house,
Everyone was a-stirring, except my dear spouse.
The gifts were all opened, the feasting all done,
And stomachs were groaning, oh yes, every one!

Friday, July 23, 2010

Hot and Dry by 7Gems Bluebird

Hot and Dry by 7Gems Bluebird

Living in a house, in a land that's hot and dry, snow I have never seen.

Angel Christmas by Zarah Frostbite

Angel Christmas by Zarah Frostbite

In a cold winter land, there are beautiful houses all around, but there is one in particular which has a great story behind it.

House Chrismassy by Monk Faith

House Chrismassy by Monk Faith

Laying here, uselessly staring at my monitor
Fiddling with Mouse, clicking here and there
And letting my mind wander everywhere
Far-far away, but reaching nowhere.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Christmas Love - lillian Morpork

This is an Ekphrastic poem - the style is old, a graphic and often dramatic description of visual work - art, literature or other. Ekphrastic is from the Greek words 'ek'=out and 'phrastic'= speak. Contemporary ekphrastic poetry may be any of a wide range of responses to many visial arts. It may be a 'conversation with, or a spoof of the art, or a start to a longer work. It expresses the writer's response to the art.

Christmas Love - picture The Little Blue Hose
by lillian Morpork

It's Christmas eve, the house is dark,
All is silent, everyone asleep
Except us. We lie, joined, intertwined,
Sweating, resting, waiting for the next bout.
After all, Christmas is a time of love,
And what deeper love can there be but
The passionate love between man and woman?

The Last Christmas - lillian Morpork

The Last Christmas
by lillian Morpork

She sighed as she kicked off her slippers and climbed into bed. Three o’clock on Christmas morning, and she was so tired. ‘I’ll be lucky to get three hours’ sleep,’ she thought. The children had been up late, too excited with expectations of what that special day would bring. Young Susie and John, in particular had been hard to get settled. It had taken three stories and two lullabies before they finally drifted off.

Now, at last, all was quiet, lights off, Santa gifts arrayed under the tree in the parlour. Light shone through the window, and she realized that she had neglected to turn the outdoor lights off. She shook her head - let them go. It was the last time they would glow outside this dear old home.

Santa's Helpers - lillian Morpork

Santa’s Helpers

Christmas Eve. The house is dark, the only lights those on the lawn decorations.
“Hssst, Jake,” Sam whispered. “Looks like we can get in here! I tried this basement window, and it isn’t locked.” He turns to Jake and grins. “Good luck for us, our Christmas present. Probably lots of good stuff here. Maybe even some good jewellery.”

Jake grinned back as Sam opened the window and slid carefully through, then followed. They turned on their flashlights, being careful to shelter them so the light wouldn’t attract unwanted attention.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Grrrrrrrrrr... It's July! - Llola Lane

Grrrrrrrrrr... It's July!

Why DO we have snow??? Why DON'T we have green grass???
Why DO we have blizzards??? Why DON'T they just pass???

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Christmas Light - Sven Pertelson

The Christmas lights shine on, but no-one there
Wilting sad garlands, bright once, fading now.
Soft snow, on iron hard streets, muffles slow bells.
A home no more. The empty windows stare
Where laughter gaily rang, mute silence dwells.