As green shoots appear
in the springing of the year
Gaia is reborn
Category Archives: Inspired by fable
Heeding Haiku With Chèvrefeuille, April 10th 2019, new beginnings
Filed under As you read it, faith, Haiku, Inspired by fable, Old knowledge, Seasons, Self compositions
What do you See? April/09/2019
And God looked down from on high at the gathering below. She smiled in order to put them at their ease, for arrayed in a circle below was a representative from all the nations of the Earth. Chosen at random and summoned while in an enchanted state, none had a recollection of how they had come to be here or why they had been so chosen. God enfolded them in her arms and in soft tones began to speak. Speaking in tongues so that all the gathering were able to understand the message she imparted. To emphasise her imparted warning a loud rumbling began to emanate from the very bowels of the Earth and the earth opened giving all assembled a glimpse of the infernal future for the planet. A certainty if these messengers were unable to convince their fellow countrymen throughout the world of the necessity for change. God released the people from their spell to return and begin their work. It was now dependant upon the inhabitants of the planet if they wished to avoid the second great flood. A flood of fire of their own making.
What do you see challenge: 2nd April
His laughter was as the echo
of a thousand crows
lined in serried ranks
upon the branches
of a hundred graceful pines,
each silent, standing sentinel
over the boundless plains.
I realised my folly
for had I not stroked
the curving brazen contours
and in one foul stroke, released
the fabled genie of the lamp
Sue Vincent’s Thursday photo prompt #Threshold (Dawn of disgrace) #Writephoto
We stood up on the cliff looking down at the scene of destruction below. The gale force wind so strong that we could hardly stand. Waves crashed over the bow of the stricken vessel. We could not keep our torches alight unless we lay upon the ground sheltering them from the driving rain with our curled bodies. The cries from below sounded English but there were also high-pitched screams in a language I couldn’t identify. Daniel beside me had toshout to make himself hard, “I s’pect tis them Frenchies they’ve been tellin about, poor buggers.” I only nodded in agreement. There was nothing we could do till the sea and wind settled. Then we would go down to the beach to see if anyone had got off to the shore. All we could was sit and wait.
At first light the wind had lessened. There was no sound. Fearing the worst we climbed down the fisherman’s path to the shingle beach. The ship had completely broken up overnight. There were rough, broken planks of timber, chests and casks scattered among the rocks. Much more numerous were the bodies. Some lying face down, arms outstretched as if scrabbling at the sand. Some face up, their faces white, fixed in fear, eyes dull and lifeless. The worst sight were a group of both men and women lying like rag dolls close to a cave entrance.
Going over to examine them we were stopped in our tracks at the sight. All were wearing leg-irons and neck-braces chained one to each other. It was obvious, they were slaves being transported to the colonies. The sailors hadn’t even freed them at the time of the wreck in order that they might have a chance of escape.
I believe it was that one act that turned us against our sea-faring brothers. Without a word being spoken the vow never again to help them was taken. Not only that, our loathing at their cowardice was so high that we were encouraged to start the act of wrecking and thus gaining benefit from their distress. Much to my shame I can safely say that was how and why our terrible, callous and cowardly acts of piracy started.
Crimson Creative Challenge #19 #Limerick- Gunfight at the OK corral
Five young gunslingers from Tooting
fed up with the hollering and hooting
so with nothing to lose
but their necks in a noose
should either fight their way out or die shooting
Filed under Alternative history, Factual, Inspired by fable, Self compositions, Whimsical
Carrot ranch #99-word challenge March 14: #Flash-Fiction Challenge #chisel
I tossed the small, bronze object from hand to hand. Just lying in the sand, a chisel. I marvelled at it’s delicate, tactile, feel. I was familiar with bronze statues, sculpted, sensual, in gardens or on antique, period tables. This though, was a tool.
I placed it in my pocket, placing my palm on a giant limestone block, one of thousands shaped by such tools. The still bright, painted hieroglyphs telling their stories. Through my translation I realised that this one told of an overseer stabbed to death by a haunted chisel. My pocket twitched and suddenly felt lighter.
WHAT DO YOU SEE? MARCH 12, 2019 #Tanka
safe in ignorance,
silver-scaled serpent, slumbers
in his snow clad nest,
overhead his nemesis,
pennant raised, prepares his lance
Filed under Alternative history, Factual, Inspired by fable, Self compositions, Tanka
What do you see? Mar 5 2019
While the tambours played
Psyche dancing, offered him
the key to her heart.
MLMM’s First Line Friday: March 1st, 2019
This day was summer when the sun shone, and biting winter when clouds overtook the sky, a tumultuous mix of seasons in the span of an afternoon. An apt description of Exmoor, an unforgiving place. In one day you can walk through a whole year of weather, warm, wet, cold the whole shebang. It is all part of it’s magic and sometimes mystery.
A young family were staying in Porlock weir, the husband a warehouseman, his wife a part-time classroom assistant. She had returned to work after a two and a half year break after the birth of their first child, Millie. It was Easter half term and they had managed to rent a small cottage.
With Millie tiring of rock-pooling and net-dipping every day they decided to visit Culbone church, reputed to be the smallest church in England. Although a long walk, the path was suitable to take a buggy through the woods along the gently sloping cliff edge.
It was a glorious Spring morning when they set off, Millie well wrapped up but her parents dressed as if for a Summer stroll. A cloudless sky when they set out but while in the church it began to darken. On the way back the rain started to fall. At first just a few large drops but gradually increasing to a downpour. They had just passed what appeared to be a cave entrance. He took Millie by the hand and ran back to the cave while his wife dragged the buggy. A leaflet in the church had stated that charcoal burners used to live in the woods during medieval times, part of a leper colony so they assumed that this had once been a dwelling. In fact it was the entrance to an ancient, disused lead-mine. This was an industry that was not mentioned as it could be bad publicity for the countryside.
The rain was incessant and after a while where it had been seeping from above their heads it became a constant stream. They were amused when without prompting, Millie made a cup of her hands and started to drink the water and splashing it on her face. After about fifteen minutes the rain stopped and once more the sun came out. They hurried back to their holiday cottage as fast as possible ready to change and relax before the journey back to their home the next day.
In the car Millie started to complain of stomach ache and seemed in so much pain that they called into accident and emergency at their local hospital. After many anxious hours they were told how lucky they had been. Millie was suffering from arsenic poisoning from the water that had seeped through the mine roof. She had been very close to death. They would be prepared for any weather without sheltering next time.
Weekend writing prompt #94 #Indistinct
Circe raised the cloth covering the sphere, there, though indistinct, he saw the screaming face of his wife.
