Tag Archives: frailty of life

Crimson’s Creative Challenge #212 #Creatures of the night

Beneath bronzed bracken fronds are formed

tracks left by frenzied creatures as

the rising sun proclaims the morn

the time for foraging now is passed

beneath drooping eyelids, bellies full

warm, grass-lined burrows gently call

for now their long night’s work is done

they again await the setting sun

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Filed under nature inspired, Self compositions

Sammiscribbles weekend writing prompt #267 #Reworking

Veiled ladies dab red eyes with lace handkerchiefs, sombre looking men stand unsmiling, their eyes cast downward, reminding us that from clay we are made and to earth we shall return.

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Filed under faith, Self compositions

SoCs March 26

With his navy blue jersey and black tar-hardened breeches his be-whiskered, weather-creased features formed a half smile as he sat upon the black and white iron bollard. Reaching down with his left hand he lazily stroked the rope sitting loosely on the jetty. He remembered the days when he too had worked with ropes and spars, thick hawsers and thin guy ropes, all had passed through his bent, gnarled, rough-skinned fingers. He could tell where every piece of Manila, hemp or coir had once been grown ready for harvesting and making up into the ropes that secured ships and boats throughout the world. All of them natural, lovingly twisted into multi-usable things. Now the ropes were all man-made, manufactured from plastic, never rotting, floating for ever when discarded, trapping birds, damaging all sea life, more debris in the corruption of the seas.

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Filed under Self compositions

Ronovan writes #362

The weighted drag net

makes the seabed desert dust

Ocean’s Silent Spring

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Filed under As you read it, dystopian view, Factual, From the heart, Haiku, Self compositions

Ronovan writes Haiku weekly prompt #360

Strange sounds in the air

perhaps it’s a wisp of snipe

demons raise their guns

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Filed under Factual, From the heart, Haiku, Rural life, Self compositions

Looking to my future

Who will grieve when I am gone

I have no daughter nor a son

My wife departed long ago

Of my demise she will not know

Or care.

The end.

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Filed under On the lines of romance, Self compositions, Uncategorized