poverty stricken
but hoping to do their best
for their gifted child,
they sacrifice everything
for a prosperous future.
Category Archives: Self compositions
#WEEKLY TANKA PROMPT #POETRY CHALLENGE – WEEK 113 – POVERTY & GIFTED-Sacrifice
Filed under As you read it, From the heart, Self compositions, Tanka
Colleen’s Weekly #Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 101, “Plan & Finish,”
Start with an outline
then expand your ideas
end with a flourish
the layman’s guide to writing
just another fantasy
Ronovan writes #Weekly Haiku #218
The steam underground
built using cut and cover
London pioneers
Filed under Factual, Haiku, History, Self compositions
Sue Vincent’s #Thursday photo prompt: Early snow #writephoto
Patrick reached up to the last berry on the low branch. Nervously looking to right and left while occasionally stretching his neck to scan the skies above. No dark shadows were visible, no signs of a soaring bird above. He felt safe, camouflaged in his brown, mottled gold and fawn, feathered coat but one still had to be wary or they could be unlucky. A badly timed movement could be notification to watching eyes on the ground or in the skies, then with a pounce or a swoop life could rapidly be cut short. Patrick listened intently and sniffed the air, he felt something amiss. Gradually, like a mist forming in front of him he saw small feathery white flakes starting to fall all around. “On no, he thought, I will be caught out here in a minute, the snow has come too early. Quick,quick, I must go and hide”. With a rush he ran into the heather and nestled down onto the cool pine mat, crouching as low as he could. With his head tucked under his wing he soon relaxed and pondered his best methods for keeping warm. His feathers provided excellent insulation and if it got too cold shivering for short periods warmed up the blood. He hated the snow, he would have to dig through it every time he went to eat and often the water would turn to ice so he couldn’t drink or bathe. Like most birds Patrick enjoyed a bath, fluffing his feathers right up and letting the water splash over his exposed flesh. Of course there were times when water wasn’t available and this meant he had to take dust baths, this was quite exhilarating too especially when he could sit on top of an ant’s nest. Though feeling guilty he knew that the ones he beheaded and rubbed into his skin were so soothing. Getting rid of any itchy little ticks that had fastened on, irritatingly sucking his blood and so difficult to scratch and dislodge. Anyway now was not the time or the place to daydream. He would have to run back to the copse before the snow covered the ground like it had the hills in the distance where his white cousins lived. He didn’t envy them sitting out in the cold snow. He was happiest when he sat dozing with just one eye open in his warm heather and bracken bed
Filed under Flash fiction, nature inspired, Self compositions
#TMAT120 #writing #prompt for September 2018
For twenty years Snoopy was my constant companion, whether out walking or sitting on the couch. When my relationship broke down we had to move out. My new accommodation did not allow pets so I took my dog to stay with a good friend but lived many hours drive away. Snoopy seemed happy. She sent photos of her lying on her new bed in front of the fire and looking happy. I wasn’t able to get back to see her for four weeks and the two of us went for a slow walk before I again left. The next morning my friend called to say Snoopy had died in the night. Perhaps she could not bear me leaving her again.
Filed under As you read it, Factual, From the heart, Inspired emotion, Self compositions
#Weekly Tanka Prompt #Poetry Challenge – Week 112 – Hope & Observing, An optimist’s view
Through the fields of hope
we walk, eyes and ears open
but often blinkered,
observing yet ignoring
the obstacles in life’s path
Filed under nature inspired, Self compositions, Tanka
MLMM’s #First Line Friday: August 31st, 2018
Summer died that night. It was a time of celebration, the deep fire-pit, filled to the height of a man with peat, brush, bracken and branches ready to be lit. The cattle, pigs, sheep and fowl driven in to the central enclosure ready for the elders to carry out their grisly task,
The children had asked the usual questions which we had asked when we were young. The answer was always the same throughout the years. “This is the way it has always been.”
“The beasts we have nurtured lovingly throughout the year must repay our kindness. There will be feasting for everyone before the dark days come as they surely will. There is not enough goodness in the fields to keep and sustain our flocks and herds. Only the necessary few will be kept for our daily needs.”
“The offering we make now will be noted by the sky-dwellers and if pleased they will send the bright sun back to lighten our days once more when the time is right. This is as it has always been.”
As we watched the great fire was lit. Bright scarlet and yellow tongues of flame leaped into the not yet dark sky. Our animal’s eyes rolled at the sight. As each one was led through the narrow entrance between the stakes into the very heart of the village the remainder started to grow restless and were snorting, bleating and clucking wildly. We could hear the loud cries of pain from within and panic started to spread through the now terrified animals. We beat them furiously to try and stop the by then dangerous mayhem.
A greasy cloud of dark smoke hung motionless in the air above the cluster of thatched dwellings and the smell of animal fat was strong in ours and the remaining animal’s nostrils. The addition of the animal fat helped the flames to reach high above the height of the palisade for all to see.
The last beast was lead through the opening, their dark, deadly destiny assured. Gradually we heard the sound of drums performing an increasingly louder, rhythmic, hypnotic beat. It was hard to stop our feet from stamping and dancing in time to the music.
Finally the last of the sun’s rays died and only then were we able to pass through the portal to join the great feast marking the change of the seasons.
RonovanWrites Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge #217 Poison&Past
The poison bottle
held memories of her past
trying not to smile
Filed under As you read it, Haiku, Self compositions
Sue Vincent’s #Thursday photo prompt: Watcher #writephoto
We look upon a mournful scene,
is it mist or just the sheen
of sadness in the eyes downcast.
With folded arms and child at breast
she realises that no more
on lapping wave her paramour,
will reappear on rising tide
but now departs for the last time,
her clifftop vigil will soon end as
arms outstretched she will descend.
No-one will mourn, nothing to keep
her from making this fateful leap.
Filed under As you read it, From the heart, Inspired by fable, Self compositions
#Weekly Tanka Prompt #Poetry Challenge – Week 111 – Climate & Energy
Sensing the climate
of the office being cool,
we all donned our frowns
the sexual energy
was gone, never to return
Filed under As you read it, Factual, Self compositions, Tanka
When the pen takes control. 