Christmas Pastiche

How could I resist the prompt from Kerry on Wednesday's IGWRT? With Christmas looming, I collected five card designs I'd created over the years, put them together in one 'frame', then played with various computer options until, of a sudden, appeared this almost-not-quite 'Greetings' word in festive season red...

The top third reminds me of bookshelves, with volumes arranged by colour, where you will be able to add all the new books Santa Claus will put in your stocking on the twenty fifth.
 
The centre section depicts two, clear weather patterns - ice and snow to the left, rain and mist to the right.  I apologise for ignoring the fact that some parts of the world revel in sunshine at this time of the year, but many of us in the Northern Hemisphere are only gifted with these wintery options!

And the lower, third part? Well, greetings card to the left, and mulled red wine to the right! What more can I say? Have a good one, folks!

The Last Day Of November

And another chance to practice our counting skills for Mr Knowitall, otherwise known as G-Man, who rations us to a mere 55 words on a Friday, as his way of making sure we Bloggers do not become overly verbose!
Fat chance!
However, fifty five he says, and fifty five I have written, after peering out of my window this morning for inspiration...

Frost on grass this bright morning signals Winter has arrived. A smile of sunshine greets his presence, but warns him to take his time, not to be too hasty with bitter winds, ice and snow.  For December has yet to take the lead and guide him towards the New Year, when the coldest months thrive.

All New Perspective?

An interior designer from Crewe
thought he had found something new
when his squiggles, in stripes,
made him squirm with delight,
until Santa crawled out of the flue!

Created for Tess at Mag 145, thanks to her image found here.

A Good Night For Wreckers

There was none of the usual crisp cleanliness about the moonlight. It entered the coast-guard's cottage in the way that warm breath becomes visible on a cold night; a presence which comes from nowhere, hovers in the air like phosphorescence for a moment before it disperses and lets the blackness rule...
Outside, rising winds chased clouds which raced from their grasp like naughty children evading bed time.  But there was no fun attached to their game.  Instead, a sense of foreboding was tangible in the air that night.

Thanks go to Tess and Andrew Wyeth for their inspiration at  Mag 144

Witchery!

Halloween's coming! The witch-hag is nigh!
On hovering besom high in the sky,
with cloak and with hat, see her silhouette fly!

A familiar black cat perched on the handle,
ears all a-twitch, long tail a-dandle,
watches the stars, each bright as a candle.

Mewling spells to the moon, he fills us with fear.
So, remember, children, it's best you steer clear
of fast flying broomsticks once Halloween's here!

For IGWRT. One from my archives of two years ago.  Time flies, as well as witches! 

The Eyes Have It

Once again, I have been seeing things, thanks to Tess at the Mag 140.

Human brains
will search for faces
everywhere;
even when
the result produced is odd,
we are satisfied.
Scientists
will probably try
to explain
why this is,
but do we need to know?
We can just enjoy!

Fourteen lines, and then some...

I never did like people with red hair;
at school, it was not long before I met
one so afflicted with this colourful
attribute, that she glowed like a candle,
burned the skin of any who came near,
with words of ridicule, or unkindness.

From that day, I catalogued the colour
as one to be avoided at all costs.

When I cried, my Mother would comfort me,
tell me to ignore the flying insults
or teasing words of Mary Pond. Her name
follows me to this day, while my Mother's
dark, auburn hair has long since dimmed and died
and all but faded from my memory.

Before my first baby was born, I prayed
“Please, let it be well – and not be ginger!”
I got my answer.  She had long, black hair;
but in three days, it turned to bright copper...
Love laughed loud.“So much for old prejudice.”

IGWRT's challenge  today got me writing. After fourteen lines, the flow of thought was interrupted, before I added another five. Now, I'm not sure whether I should have stopped at fourteen? Does it feel complete to you too, at that point? I wonder...

Tantivy, Tantivy!

At the local meet,
pink coated riders gather,
scarlet blood-lust fuelled.
They talk of cross-country trails
and the best route to follow.

Horse and hounds move out,
a pack in pursuit of prey.
Horn sounds"Tally-ho!"
and the cavalcade sets off
in haphazard formation.
 
Frightened animal,
alert, outwits the hunter.
Tail remains intact
as the harrowing day ends
and fox has won the contest.


For today's IGWRT, thanks to Hannah, and Peter Trimming's Photo.

The Last Word

“I’ve not telephoned you for a long time –

this is a dreadful line –

can you hear me clearly, Rosemary?”

“What’s that?

You’re not Rosemary? “

Where is she then?

Oh...dead!

Pardon my mirth - IGWRT wanted a 30 word drama , and I couldn't resist a little black humour. Sorry!

The Script

Our book of life falls open at a page
whereupon we write our stories daily,
with tracery that weaves our souls’ intent
into the fabric of the words we choose;
ours the choice to seek the light, or dark inks,
used to embellish the script of our play.

We have to take the leading role. Each act
supplies a cast of characters for us,
without whom our production would be dull,
a monologue in shades of monotone
uniformity.  So raise the curtain,
let the orchestra play the overture,
as we stand in the wings of a stage, set
with painted backdrops poised to shape our lives.

This is one of my poems re-worked, linked today to d'Verse

Fantasia For A Wet Monday

The world has clothed itself in misted grey
as each damp day mimics the one before.
All memories of warmth and sun recede
into the mists of imagination.

But crystal rain beads line each graceful leaf,
as though the plant had decked itself with gems,
before attending some illustrious
gathering, a high society ball
to be held in a fairy-dream garden... 

There, diamond studded spider's webs are strung
to light, in place of cut glass chandeliers,
the mossy dance floor. Woodland elves and sprites
will make full use of this bosky ballroom
while Lady Moon looks on and smiles, content.

Others flights of fancy may be found in this garden, too!

The Eyes Have It

 Mag 136 is playing with our minds this week, as an opulent swirl at centre stage dazzles us with colour. But all is not what it seems...thanks to Tess and David Salle.

 

Look hard and you'll see
how this came to be -
a flip and a stretch,
et voila! A new sketch.

Hands up all those
who would not suppose
two faces would stare,
under pink or blue hair?

War Baby

from an original photo by iMac, with many thanks

I came from a wailing siren:
from bomb-blast air:
from searchlights streaking black-lead sky
as dragon flames burned the stars.

I came from a salt spray wind,
while warships rippled silver trails
through calm seas,
or climbed storm mountains.

I came from a close-knit fear,
from family sardine squeezed into a shelter
where humour blanketed horror
and spread a kind of calm.

Linked to The Poetry Pantry today, and IGWRT on Monday.

Altered Perception

In slow time,
the colours of day
receded
further from
his mind's imagination,
painting out the scene.
Night left him
feeling out of place,
but aware
his body
was insubstantial, could fade
into nothingness,
as nightmares
combined to close ranks,
battalions
of grey ghosts
marching in hushed formation
towards the sunrise.

Inspired by Mag 132, with thanks to Tess & Andrew Wyeth.

Falling Star

Blue ink sky
writes a new story
with each star.

When one falls,
read of its journey
across time;

tracery
scribes an epitaph
as it dies.


Written for Haiku Heights

Ships That Pass...

by mailratocero.com

My family members are off on their hols
they're zooming around the globe.
One lot is coming, the other is going.
We all keep in contact by 'mobe'.
Sometimes we manage, despite the mad rush,
to say ‘Hello’, even while passing
betwixt here and there via boat, plane or train…
travel can be so harassing!

A holiday 55 for G-Man!

Pot Bound

The plant grew
and flourished, like love.
But neglect,
over time,
made both lose the will to live.
Death was a kindness.

 Tess and Zelko Nedic at Mag 128 provided the prompt for this sad shadorma!

Daybreak

Coming home
after a night out,
morning sun
won the race
to her front door. Yesterday
would be remembered.

Inspired by Tess and Jack Vettriano at Mag 126

The Separateness Of Trees

Ancient trees,
sentinels guarding
a pathway,
form an arch,
a bright, dappled corridor
of living beauty.

Bowed branches
ache to touch leaf tips,
to entwine
and caress
for a moment each other's
foliage fingers.

Their embrace,
broken by the breeze,
marks the end
of Summer.
Fall will paint its glory till
sap-filled veins turn sere.

Written for IGWRT  Open Link Monday

Best Foot Forwards

A Jinksy Original

Feet
are neat!
They carry us through the day.
Come what may,
they take the strain,
don't complain,
unless the wear and tear
of unsuitable footwear
causes them grief!
Oh, what a relief
to abandon shoes
before we snooze.
Then we dance our dreams
through, till morning gleams
us awake
and feet take
us on another day trip
'twixt cup and lip
as we drink life down,
turn it around,
maybe.
Once we see
the way to go,
we can tell our feet
"Onwards
and upwards!"

An early morning offering for IGWRT, this Monday.

Shakespeare's Words

These were ones I used to create this 'In Sympathy' card, to send to a bereaved friend, and this morning, I read a post where the Blogperson mentioned the recent death of their mother...I thought, if I posted this 'card' on In Tandem, I would then be able to 'send' condolences to them via a link in a comment, as they didn't have their email enabled for me to communicate directly.

Then I thought, if anyone else would like to use this image in a similar way, I could 'gift' it to them, too...Feel free to help yourself...

Moon-puddle

Purple moon-puddle,
doorway to a universe
in a painter's mind.

Produced for Mag 122, and inspired by M . C. Escher's original image, thanks to Tess.

The Cup Runneth Over

I think Khalil Gibran wrote words which fit well with my graphic here. See if you agree...

"When love beckons to you, follow him, though his ways are hard and steep.  And when his wings enfold you yield to him, though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you; when he speaks to you believe in him, though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden. For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning. Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun, so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth......

But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure, then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor, into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears. Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.

Love possesses not nor would it be possessed; For love is sufficient unto love. And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course. Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.

But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires: to melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night: to know the pain of too much tenderness: to be wounded by your own understanding of love, and to bleed willingly and joyfully.”

 Khalil Gibran

Landscape

If you follow a Treasure Hunt, from HERE, to HERE, you will discover how one thing leads to another, and back again!

Evening Contemplation

To see how this graphic came into existence, pop across to Napple Notes, where you will perhaps understand how, by following my nose, or instinct, or artistic muse, I arrived at 'The Oracle'.

In The Wet

                              Started life as this>
What a difference a change of shape and colour can make...

And there's another example of what a rainy day can produce, over HERE, where you can see how my mind was working...

Diamonds Are For Ever

Third of June 2012  saw the 60 year reign of our Monarch, Queen Elizabeth II, being marked with a Pageant on the River Thames, the like of which has not been seen for 350 years. True to tradition, the British weather blessed us with rain, but also true to tradition, neither the Queen nor her subjects were in the least deterred from enjoying the spectacle. So today, I found this Google image to accompany a cinquain written in honour of the occasion. 

Jubilee;
wet, windy,
bracing, exciting, moving.
God Save the Queen
celebration.

Twilight

After a week of unusually hot weather for an English maytime, when I saw today's Edward Hopper prompt from Tess at Mag 119, with its lingering, golden warmth,  I couldn't wait to cool it!  I've also slewed this section of the image to make the viewer feel small, underlining the fact that we are all at the mercy of the elements.

And here's the shadorma I wrote to complete the picture.- if you see what I mean!

Burning orb
retreats as moonlight
douses sun,
silvers sky,
and revives flagging spirits.
The world breathes easy.

Thanks To Beccs

My Jelly Bean poem has at last met its match in this delightful illustration by Beccy Blake. Just shows what working in tandem can do! I hope we can produce more of the same...Fingers crossed, eh?

Behind The Mask

We are all players
wearing masks. Both light and dark
combine for balance.

Written for Haiku Heights , where the prompt was 'Mask'.

Fantasia

The stream
unravels views
till imagination
ripples across the mind's canvas,
dreaming.

Colours,
in gaudy dance,
sway to silent music
sung by invisible makers
of songs.

And time
flows between worlds,
linking past and present,
fact and fantasy; old and new,
reborn.

Written and created in response to Mag #116, also linked to dVerse  and Open Link Monday on IGWRT

Clouds Have More Than Silver Linings

Imac suggested I take a look here at his clouds - and the one above  soon turned into this...

 And finally this....

I told Imac his photo was so bright, I had to pull the blinds to look at it! He said he hoped I'd post it some time - so now I have, with many thanks for his kind permission to do so.

Another Attack Of The Blues

Inspired by Mag #115, where Tess gave us an image by Manu Pombrol - guess you could say it blew my mind- or at least, the top of my head off! :)

Bath For A Laugh

When taking a leisurely bath,
do not be tempted to laugh,
for a wide open maw
could mean trouble's in store.

With waves up to your chin
you might risk a big grin.
But...
if they're over your jaw,
the water could pour
into your gullet;
you'd drown like a mullet,
and then you'd be heard of no more.

Tess gave us a watery Mag prompt by Alex Stoddard today, which I have Jinksied, as above.

For Haiku Heights 22 April

Graphic by Jinksy

I stand still
as the world awakes;
peace beckons.

Click HERE for more offerings.

For Haiku Heights 21st April

Graphic by Jinksy

Serendipity
is making the most of now;
a new love blossoms.

Click HERE for more of today's offerings

Old Tree, New Picture

Sunlight
filters throughout
an old tree's canopy,
bringing to life a brand new day
for all.

Sprite

Soon this became a Unicorn Alone....

Day dreaming
changes perspective;
magic reigns.

Memory Of Spring

In limbo
between two seasons,
she hovers.

Moody Blue

Ascent

Surreal

Draco

Spring Is Sprung

Anyone's Guess...

Web Of Dreams

Feel free to use the image to start your imagination flowing, if you so wish... Then leave a comment so I can come and see!

Graphic by Jinksy

Continuing with a red theme...

 Here are 160 characters of a somewhat dubious kind, to accompany a flight of fancy inspired by the Mag photo this week, thanks to Tess, and her image by Robert and Shana Parke-Harrison.

Molten rock spewed from the tunnel mouth. A hideous, winged fiend clawed its way along the inhospitable terrain.  
There would be no place to hide from its jaws.

Of course, a less colourful option is still intriguing, suggesting as it does the birth of a new phoenix, perhaps...

Red In Tooth And Claw

Inspired by Mag108 image: Uzengia Aleksander Nedic

And here as a BOGOF special, are 140 characters for Grandma's Goulash:-

Mister Raccoon
stomped past the broom.
"This yard's a tip.
I think I'll quit
nosing around such a location.
Hello starvation.
Botheration!"