Category Archives: Otherworldly

Sue Vincent’s #Thursdayphotoprompt #Writephoto


Princess Murano

her face framed in furnace fire

slowly raised her eyes

memories of fragrant blooms

fragile, fading, as of glass


Filed under As you read it, Otherworldly, Self compositions, Tanka, Temperatures rising

Invitation to write from Willow poetry #poetry #whatdoyousee


As with a child’s eyes, I see

a wondrous world

arrayed for me,

each shelf book-lined,

offering such fantasy,

or half-truths imagined

to answer life’s mystery.




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Filed under As you read it, Otherworldly, Self compositions

MLMM’s #Heeding Haiku With Chèvrefeuille, December 5th 2018, Om Mane Padme Hum

Look unto yourself,

our spirit is our teacher

seek guidance within


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Filed under faith, Haiku, Otherworldly, Self compositions

Sue Vincent’s #Weeklyphotoprompt #Write photo #Untrodden


The only sound to break the silence of the cold, moorland peace was a solitary car engine as it proceeded along the narrow roadway. The engine tone changed and there was a moment of quiet before the sound of grating metal and the breaking of glass hinted at some form of accident. Then all was quiet again apart from the plaintive mew of a buzzard, circling high in the flat, grey sky. The only witness to what had befallen.

Sarah woke with a start. She shook her head trying to clear her thoughts and remember what had happened. The last thing she could remember wasf rantically trying to control her car as it span before sliding broadside into the hedge. To no avail, the brakes had had no effect due to the closely packed snow and she remembered the jolt as she came to a halt. She instantly regretted waiting too long in the town before setting off for her parent’s cottage on the moor. It had been foolish not to leave as soon as the snow started to fall.

The driver’s door was open and she reached to her left where  her bag was sitting on the passenger seat. Although her head felt fuzzy at least she was physically uninjured but she dreaded looking at the probable damage to her car. She reached into her bag and pulled out her phone. The screen was blank, no signal. Realising that it was unlikely any other car would be travelling on the snow-covered road she thought it would be best to find a farmhouse to make a call. Luckily the crash had occurred close to a gateway through which a track led up to the right. Hoping it would be a farm track she slid off of her seat and out of the open door. Sarah wrapped her scarf around her mouth but she had no gloves. Despite the snow though, it was warmer than she had expected.

Although she couldn’t see a building she could see a glow at the top of the track. It looked as though the sun was breaking through the cloud in watery beams. The snow had stopped falling and taking her bag she started to trudge up the track. Her footsteps muffled by the deep blanket of snow. As she neared the top she could see that the glow was not sunlight but curiously looked like the entrance to a cave carved out of a soft, rounded form of rock. It was hazy which she thought was probably due to a smoky fire although she could not smell it. Through the entrance she could make out two figures sitting at a table just looking at each other. She called out but they didn’t seem to hear her. As she approached one of the figures looked up and only then appeared to notice her approach. He or she raised one arm in a wave and appeared to beckon to her as if inviting her in. Sarah could see the figure’s mouth opening but could hear no words and their face looked shiny and flushed with a light yellow glow which looked welcoming and warm. Sarah became confused, she looked over her shoulder and was shocked to see no footprints leading from the car. She cast her mind back to how she had left the car without removing her seatbelt. Only then did she realise her situation and her tears began to flow.



Filed under As you read it, Flash fiction, Otherworldly, Self compositions

RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #225 Strike&Hunger


Let the clocks strike twelve

then the hunger will begin

that the hordes may feed


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Filed under As you read it, Haiku, Inspired by fable, Otherworldly, Self compositions

Sue Vincent’s Thursday photo prompt: Bone #writephoto


Over the western hills the sparse, silver clouds are tinged with  red. The sun, not yet set gives up it’s daily battle with the revolving Earth.

A slight breeze starts vibrations in the tall grass heads previously still  in  the heat of the day as the first chill wind from the shore  heralds the onset of evening.

The rain-washed,  sun-bleached skull lies on the path of low foot-worn grass between the heather tussocks.

Tonight there will be no moon to cast it’s glow over the silent tors. The evening air remains curiously warm, almost sultry.

Imperceptibly, as if guided by some gentle, unseen hand the skullbone is turne to face the darkening  Eastern sky. d

In the distance,  a low unearthly sound as of the moaning of the wind in the mast of a storm-tossed sailing vessel can just be heard. The skull shudders and begins to roll to the side of the path.  Like the growth of moss but vastly accelerated, a black downy growth begins to form a shadow on the stark, white surface. The black down grows longer until it resembles the short, thick fur of a dog. An impression helped by the impression of long limbs and thickset body of a hound which appear  to be forming around the single skull.

At last there stands a large hound. Saliva drips from the muzzle as the jaws open showing a row of strong teeth where once were just sockets. Red, unblinking eyes like cinders stare out as snorting nostrils flare and a snarl escapes the shaking head.

Darkness reigns but the black fur is embued with a dull, green lustre. If anyone was near they would start to sense a foetid smell,  increasing in strength with each shake of the thick flanks.

While out over the darkening hills the previous low moaning is now distinguishable as the baying of  a pack of hounds.

The newly reborn beast raises it’s head turning to the right and left. Upraised newly grown ears point straight up, cocked, listening.

With a snarl and a huge leap the beast  runs off in the direction of the approaching pack.

Across the moor a dark-cloaked rider sits atop a heavy black steed. His hood rolls back  allowing a glimpse of a white, gaunt cadaver-like grin. He frowns. he struggles to control his rearing horse, while in his free hand he holds a horse-whip which with every flick emits a stream  of red and gold sparks. Around the horse’s  feet a pack  of identical black hounds snarl, circle and fight, cowering  at every crack.

Soon the pack will be complete again and the Heath hounds will start their nightly hunt seeking out the souls of the wicked.


Filed under As you read it, Flash fiction, Inspired by fable, Old knowledge, Otherworldly, Self compositions

Museum exhibit four hundred and thirty nine

Having recently heard of the recent death of Rick Turner, the archaeologist who played a major role in the identification of Lindow man, I thought I would post a relevant poem.

For me no stone at head or feet,
Buried ‘neath the sodden peat,
Full three times I died at the hands
of former dwellers in this land,
messenger to the gods my fate,
my kinsmen’s problems to relate
our hunting failures, weather woes
humiliation by our foes,
my message to our Gods was clear
but they pretended not to hear,
With wrists behind me tightly bound,
A cord around my neck was wound,
a rock against my temple dashed
then with a knife, throat crudely slashed
my patriotic chore now done
in Eden’s glade my spirit runs,
though from the earth my body raised
my final bed a tomb full-glazed,
and as I lie in endless slumber
my name forgotten, now just a number.



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Filed under Factual, From the heart, History, Inspired emotion, Old knowledge, Otherworldly, Self compositions

#Weekly Tanka Prompt #Poetry Challenge – Week 114 – Emotions & Healing

Aroused emotions

yield to the healing powers

of quartz and crystal

with just one touch of the stone

regain peace and harmony


Filed under Old knowledge, Otherworldly, Self compositions, Tanka

Sue Vincent’s weekly #Writephoto beach frolics


Listen to the torpid, turquoise waters,
langorously lapping at the sun scorched sands.
Imagine the tall, curving, coco-palm trees
casting welcome shadow over gay steel-bands
Parasols swirling, laughing ladies, clutch their
high, iced glasses in painted, long-nailed hands.
Gaze upon the lithe, lissome half naked bodies
in their bold, bright costumes, showing golden tans.
When the bright golden sun’s rays turn to crimson
driftwood is gathered and barbecues are manned.
As the fading light becomes tropical evening
everyone’s dreams and pleasures on demand.
Tuned dustbin lids polished, glowing in the fires
while stamping  and dancing capture the rhythm of the land




Filed under Otherworldly, Self compositions, Temperatures rising, Whimsical

Sue Vincent’s #Writephoto #tanka Sky swimming



Swollen scarlet shoals

swim in the pale blue waters

framed for an instant

the golden halo stretches

out it’s hands to cradle them

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Filed under Otherworldly, Self compositions, Tanka