Category Archives: Self compositions

Personal literary offerings

Ronovan writes #168 #Haiku

No more the sweet scent

of lavender and jasmine

Summer memories

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MLMM Elfje, Saturday mix #Lucky dip

Bronze

beaten shields

A God’s gift

seen in Autumn leaves

Civilisation

 

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Filed under Seasons, Self compositions, Uncategorized

#Daily prompt Leaf Leaf

Their day is done
Chameleon leaves,
 red,yellow, brown,
spiralling down
 to carpet the ground
and muffle wild sounds
once  English greenwood fair
stark now the grey and bare,
limbs reaching heavenly
bereft of their canopy
call out for the sun
stand in supplication
withering, slumbering
till Spring comes calling

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Filed under General post, Seasons, Self compositions, Uncategorized

Thursday photo prompt – Flow #writephoto

river-wye-weir

Just below the surface of the fast-flowing stream he lay waiting. Below the bubbles and foam the water was clear and cool, he could see all the way up to the steel-grey rocks ahead. He had waited here for many days, occasionally rising to the surface, looking upstream, judging the depth over the first stone. This morning was different, in the dark he had felt the raindrops crashing into the waters inches above his head. Now it had stopped but long experience and instinct told him that further up the valley where he would be heading there would be a rush as all the small streams emptied their collected waters into the river in which he lay. It took many hours but soon the level would start to rise and he could attempt to make his way further up. He would try to be early at the spawning ground, this year he was stronger and larger, his red-flushed flanks were brighter than the last throws of the sunset. His hooked jaw curved over his upper lip, making it impossible to feed. He was starving but he did not have time to feed on the juicy maggots, flies and morsels that drifted lazily over his head. He was only concerned with finding one of the many spawning females, ready to woo and persuade her to release her eggs into the sand in order that he might spray them with his milt. This would be his dying gift to the river, a new batch of young salmon to clean and purify the waters before they departed on their long journey downstream to where the river flowed into the dark sea and set off on their three year journey before they too returned to the place of their birth.

 

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Filed under Flash fiction, Self compositions, Uncategorized

Ronovan writes #167 #Haiku

I feel your touch

like a feather on my hand

and miss you Mother

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100 word Wednesday #Week 36

img_4064“Jeez man, I’m not trying to be funny but what’s with the dark glasses? Is it part of the uniform, you want to look cool or are you frightened of being recognised. I guarantee I’m not here to take photos of you so that we can target you. I’m just getting some shots of the cavalcade.”
            “You know who’s coming don’t you? The Great Leader, Light of the world. If he looks upon you in his majesty then the radiance from his magnificent gaze could strike you blind. You’d better have a good filter on your camera,”
“Jeez, you’re brainwashed!”

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Filed under Flash fiction, Self compositions, Whimsical

Ronovan writes #165 #Haiku Passion and play

Oberammergau,

decennial passion play

Celebrating Christ

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Colleen’s weekly challenge #49, part the third

Snipers lie in wait,

drones soar high above the sands.

Another ambush

 

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Colleen’s weekly poetry challenge #49 #Haibun, Soar and wait

Overhead she waits

soaring on her silent wings

while below life fades

I was once the King of the mountain. My voice echoed down the glens and valleys. My brides eagerly awaited my caresses. Now I am alone, a usurper has taken my throne. My strength flows to the ground in a crimson stream. I am weak and all I wish to do is rest. Yet I  cannot, I am old and tired. Betrayed by my own four, once sure, feet. The voice of a new champion rings out, incessant, challenging, mocking. It will soon be time.

A meal is waiting

this story can only end

in a lonely death

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Colleen’s weekly poetry challenge #49 Tanka 

Evening balloon.jpgThe balloon soars high

all the waiting is over

up to the heavens

Checking  the pressurised suit

ready for freefall descent

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Filed under General competitions, Self compositions, Tanka