For The Sunday Muse Prompt #175, and the shades of that garden it reminds me of: ** I am dreaming again of days gone by, of nights - heavy with the weight of solitude - lightened by the joy of discovery, a light born of tumult in an age of innocence. This is what the glow-worms in their flitting feel, each shimmer of light a whisper into the night to see and be seen.
For The Sunday Muse Prompt #174: ** The empty glass catches the fading light, its pale blandness turned in an instant into a merry band of colours wending their way around its rim. In the still moments of yielding to the night we see, through heavy eyes that in the brilliance of the radiant light, and the shadows too there is beauty, everywhere
For The Sunday Muse Prompt # 173: Self Portrait with Accordion, (original image by Guido Vedovato) and How To Paint A Self Portrait by Nicole Tinkham. ** First form the silhouette, press the mound of wet earth thin till it yields, pliant, to the probing of the finger and the thumb. Place the eyes, in the space between the first and the middle third, let the ears and the eyes align: two eyes, two ears, one mouth ...
For the Sunday Muse prompt #172: ** When the rain comes breathe in the clarity it brings- savour the stillness you remember from the times it came before, the delights the memories of past days and gone weeks and seasons long disappeared, bring you. Cherish the muscle memory of the steps that draw you along this path to the days of innocence, because drop by drop, the sorrows of the far country are dissolving in the rain.
Photo by Hermes Rivera on Unsplash. For The Poetic Asides prompt #554 ** Sometimes I think that my sight is leaving me, the common, quotidian comfort of seeing the world that touches me slowly slipping away, taking flight but not yet gone; only a little less close the next time morning rolls my way. Maybe it is my mind forgetting where the thin discs of shimmering glass that bring the light end, and where my rods and cones ...
For The Sunday Muse prompt #141: ** Each whirl of the earth around the Sun’s well of power and of light brings us back here. Like a boat dragged inexorably by the rising tide to shore, the swell of the sea brings us peace, to a season of reflecting, of contemplating and of pause. Time’s rhythm like the faint echo of a distant drumbeat is welcome whisper in our ear. Yesterday ...
For Day 30 of the November Poem-A-Day Challenge. Photo by Marco Ceschi on Unsplash. After Dilruba Ahmed \\\* And I am learning to forgive myself, to not let the weight of the worries of the world hang heavy on my head, to accept that sometimes the broken things around my feet are the world being itself, that sometimes beauty slips out like light through a cracked down from the riven parts of a fragile bowl, ...
Photo by Hannah Olinger on Unsplash. For Day 14 of the November Poem-A-Day Challenge ** Her voice is an echo from afar, the song one that I remember her singing over me. Sleep - child sleep, London bridge is falling down, black sheep have no wool for you. The world has snatched her presence but the memories etched in the linings of my mind linger and remain.
Photo by Olesia Misty on Unsplash. For Day 13 of the November Poem-A-Day Challenge ** You have carried yourself into a far country untethering yourself from the strings of domesticity and caring and the hold of warm soup bubbling over the warm embers of Mother’s hearth. You have dragged your portion of our things over the misty mountains into a strange place where the voice of the Matriarch is obscured by the cooing of the birds and the singing of the sirens. ...
Photo by Douglas Bagg on Unsplash. For Day 7 of the November Poem-A-Day Challenge. ** may the ones that death took this time not have been lost in vain. may the scars etched into our bodies, our minds and our skins by the daily pressure of oppression be a reminder of what was but no longer is, because this time we pressed through against the odds and found light for the future ones.