We're All In A Lather !

Bosun Bob and Barnacle Bill
though shipwrecked on a shore
knew they'd be, for good or ill,
squeaky clean for life, buoys - er - boys!

From Dover Publication's free sample newsletter, which was Stony River's prompt for her Microfiction Monday #68.

Magpie Tales #50

Focus Is Everything

An arrow points the mind in one direction,
but eyes will focus on their own choice of subject...
One portion of the larger whole, captures
my imagination. A giraffe spirit stands
poised between the winter tree trunks,
it's white and black form out of place
amongst the snow in an alien landscape.
Once interpreted this way, my brain refuses
to let it fade into the background, despite
logical intervention of thoughts roaming inside
my head. Perhaps the animal spirit needed
me, as writer, to birth it into eternal life...

Willow, your unusual picture this week lead me down a strange path, but isn't that what prompts are all about? Exploration! Many thanks to your all seeing eye that captured the original image...

Microfiction Monday #67

Bat Man and Robin were set to go; but what if their wet weather gear

hampered their flying skills? 

Perhaps they should pull a sickie?!

Susan at Stony River has to be thanked for this rainy day romp. May the sun shine on her and all other MFM participants this Monday. And now for the other half of the picture...for it's two for the price of one today,  folks!

 

A grey day is transformed to blue
when you find what a computer can do! 

Clarity

The mind reflects the stillness of calm water,
as it contemplates this mirrored image.
But this land is barren, and will give no quarter
to wildlife. Man made skylines will not damage

the artist's vision.  Forever it will remain
ideal, a proud example of an island state
rising like a mirage from some domain
which paints itself upon our screen. Fate

will deal with it kindly. It will never age,
captured as it is in pixels. Machine and man
have created a Nirvana of the Space Age
which exists in no-mans-land. It can

however, be a stepping stone between
our world and another, which waits unseen...

This is in response to The Writer's Island Prompt #4 for 2011

Poetry On Wednesday

From Rallentanda in Australia comes another POW prompt for us to write about, and I have penned a somewhat tongue in cheek haiku for her, in view of recent happenings in that far off land!

I wish all the best to the many people whose lives have been affected by their country's flood disasters. May they find the help they need to rebuild their lives as quickly as possible.

Ice Maidens

On a night when the snow whispers at the windows and the wind wanders in the wildwood, we huddle round our fires, and listen to the Story Teller. This is one of his tales...
"Many years ago, people were used to travelling long distances on foot, no matter how bad the weather. So one wintry afternoon, when three young women from hereabouts set out to walk to the next village, nobody thought it strange.
By early evening, the wind gained in strength and the cold grew in intensity and a veritable blizzard blanketed the countryside. Everyone assumed the girls would stay with kinsfolk overnight, or until the storm had abated.
When peace descended on the land, and folk once more went about their daily business, half way between our settlement and the next, as if by magic, they found three fir trees had appeared, full-grown overnight. But of the three girls, nothing was ever heard again..."

  Thanks to Willow for her  Magpie Tales #49, which inspired this flight of fancy, as well as another one, over on Napple Notes!

Microfiction Monday #66

Threat of sunburn on his belly had him hiding behind a parasol which, luckily, served to keep his foe at arms length into the bargain!

Thanks go to Susan at Stony River for a delicate, grey image prompt that inspired me to play, yet again, to produce the above sunny variation!

Notable?

Music notes? Are they a dream?
"Mere dots on lines"  are what they seem
to unaccustomed eyes.
Some join with tails that fall or rise.
But some blobs sit, round and alone
in a space they call their own,
until we learn of the secret code's
F, A, C, E, music names. A toad,
hopping in between those lines
might search for reason or for rhyme,
but find none.
But one
who understands tonic sol-fa
soon finds there are
corresponding sounds, which,
to one with perfect pitch,
may be translated into song,
before very long.
"Do re mi
fa so la ti
do"
gives us an octave, don't you know?
Once a composer writes a score,
it's there to share for ever more,
thanks to musicians who translate
what he first heard inside his pate!

Magpie Tales #48 photo prompt supplied by Willow, as seen through the eyes of Jinksy!



Thanks to a comment from Catifsh Tales, I discovered today this delightful piece of music played on an Erhu, which I share with you here..

Microfiction Monday # 65

Thanks go to Microfiction Monday, where a picture paints 140 characters, or even fewer.

"Oh, Metal Mickey! You're SO strong!

Trio

Tension

Blue black sheen
glints on curves seen
to represent arms and legs.
It then begs
the question why
three bodies would try
to hold such a pose.
Who knows?
But wait - can I see
four heads, not three?
Now I yearn
to be able to turn
the object ninety degrees.
Please?
My hands wish to explore
more
of its intertwined form,
so unlike the norm-
al shape bodies take. Such tension
in suspension
makes my muscles feel
this strain, as if it were real
and part of my being,
not simply my seeing
it caught in stone,
in ebony monotone.

For more takes on Willow's photo see  her Magpie Tales #47.