The Artist

This night,
the land is bathed
with scent of coming rain,
storm-chased by wild clouds above
the path.

In awe,
the artist stands
transfixed by the beauty
as he wends his way uphill
to home,

his house
a solid shape
beneath the silhouette
of branches dancing in wind's
embrace.

One day,
paint on canvas
will imortalise it,
this fleeting moment in time,
this gift

which he
stores in his mind,
ready to begin work
as soon as daylight calls
"Morning!"

This week, I've used a detail (colour enhanced) from the Mark Haley image which Tess gave us for The Mag prompt today. It reminds me of a Constable painting...

Afterglow

She embraced love's warmth
and bathed in the afterglow
of its radiance.


If you'd like to see the whole picture by Cesar Santos, visit The Mag, and see who else was inspired by this week's prompt from Tess.

Treasure Map?

From the Mag 185

Shall we toe the line?
These, on paper, make a map
with grids overlaid...

whilst others etched in the past

link those far times with today.

Wikimedia Commons

Thanks to Tess,  this week I read some Wiki background on the magical name 'St Ninian's Isle' and discovered photos of hidden, silver treasures that were unearthed in our lifetime. The one I've posted here had such a plethora of curved and straight lines, that I couldn't help but link it to those on the map, so you could see the connection, too. Enjoy!
Please click on the photo to see the true beauty of the silver work. :)

Purple Thoughts On A Sunday Afternoon

Youth versus age;
weigh them in the scales.

Where lies the point of balance
till the one tips towards the other?

Only watch and wait;
for the scales may yet tip again
and the adult become child
before life reaches its end
and another circle is complete.

I never know what will surface when a  Mag pictures sets me off. Tess gave us one by Norman Rockwell today...

Toad In A Hole?

The IGWRT Toad challenge today has got me hopping to it rather late, but I couldn't resist a bit of playful nonsense to round off the week. Sorry, Fireblossom, but thanks a bunch for the spark which called it into being! LOL

The Inebriated Sherpa
forged his way ahead-
but those who followed after him,
ended up as dead!

Drink and climbing do not mix -
no wonder he got in a fix
when he lead his party up the mountain -
he should have sipped from a soda fountain!

What Our Words Carry

On a good day...

Love flows through the words like a shallow stream through a green meadow; almost invisible, still this stream sings, while its earth-bed of every day is a natural camouflage. Ears play tricks in the dappled sunlight of the thoughts dancing over its surface, and marvel at its unwritten music, its secret beauty.

On a bad day...

Drought sucks life giving moisture from every phrase, and a hard-baked crust cracks and shatters dreams into dust. A desert of loneliness stretches throughout a barren landscape where a mirage tricks the memory into belief of an oasis of affection. Wind flings the whirling sands into the mind's eye which cries for that which might have been.



In the Imaginary Garden for Real Toads today, Peggy asks us to turn our attention to 'Things Carried'. This set me thinking, and I homed in on the invisible things carried by words...

Old Saying, New Take

A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush,
or so the old saying goes,
but why in this picture the bird's on a shelf
while the young lady sits in a tree by herself -
well - I reckon that nobody knows!

Words and picture inspired by Tess and Janie Tomanek at The Mag.