Hands, Feet, & Boompsadaisy?

photograph by Rob Hanson

Supple leather bends
beneath the boot-maker's hands.
Feet enjoy comfort.

Thanks to One Shoot Sunday Challenge  which features the work of Rob Hanson today.


And over on Napple Notes, is another post, of a childhood memory it brought to mind, and for a triple whammy, here's a Sunday 160 character offering for Monkey Man.

A higgledy-piggledy workshop is a must. How else can creation work hand in hand with inspiration? Fingers use materials close by, when brain births a new idea.

Two In Tandem # 4 - Shy Violets

by jinksy

No matter where or how
they grow, draw the eye
away from everything else.

Stand up to speak language
of purple, always saying,
“This, this is personal power.”

Elizabeth Crawford   

This is another collaborative post for our Thursday twosome. If you'd like to join Elizabeth and I, please feel free to write your own words to this image, either in comments here, or on your own blog - in which case, please leave a link, so we can come and visit. Thanks!

On With The Dance!

made by Juliet Wilson

Whirling of petticoats,
flashing of eyes,
as couples gyrate.
See? Girls with their guys
flaunting bright cummerbunds-
colours galore
on softly draped neckerchiefs.
None can ignore
the traditional folk tunes
whose rhythmical beat
encourages dancers
to stamp their feet!

Thanks to Juliet for this creation,  for which I supplied words. It's on her blog today, as well as here, but as we'll have different people dropping by, I thought I'd go for the double! Now I'm going to link it to One Stop, as I believe in making the most from the least...

Two In Tandem #3

by Jinksy

Illusive Paradise    
                                                            by Elizabeth Crawford 5/20/11
Deserted island wrapped
in protective bubble
forever floating through
faraway sea. Exotic perfumes
drifting on air, gifts given
by blooms of delicate flair
yet to be seen or even created.

Ceaseless soft sigh of surrounding 
waves that lull all senses to sleep,
keeping danger at far reach.
Breathing embrace erasing
any trace of possible intrusion,
covered by fragile mist of clouds
like some fairytale illusion.

Infused with vague jealousy,
water shades creep toward
shore, longing to steal mountain 
shadows, but are repelled
by ring of magic spell intended
to keep this tranquil face, always
and ever, safest space. 


This is another collaborative post between Elizabeth and I. If you would like to play along in a similar fashion, please let either of us know. Her words for my pictures will appear here on Thursdays, and my words for her pictures will be on her Unraveling blog on Tuesdays for the foreseeable future, until we work out a better plan for including others in our experiment! 

One Shot Wednesday # 47

by Paul Christopher

Remember,
after night's darkness,
at sunrise
hope returns.
May it warm all souls on Earth,
and bless them with light.

One Shot Wednesday gave us 'Darkness' as their prompt this week., but I chose to focus on the light, with this Shadorma - a syllabic form. of 3/5/3/3/7/5.

Magpie Tales # 67

Reverie

The lady dreamed about her love
no appetite had she;
a meal, untouched upon her plate,
lay there for all to see.

Her reverie had brought to mind
an earlier, far off day
when Nicholas had brought a lute
and Father told him "Play!"

Sweet music touched her maiden-heart,
she fell beneath its spell,
but she'd been promised to a lord -
Nick was a ne'er do well.

"But father dear, I beg, I pray!
I do not love this man.
Lord Jasper's not the one I want!
Forgive me, if you can?"

Her Father, being wise and kind,
was minded to relent.
"If this be true, young  Nicholas
must prove his good intent."

"I'll give to him a bag of gold
and if, in one year hence,
his efforts have increased its worth,
I'll grant he must have sense

enough to work for what he wants,
and you and he shall marry."
"Oh, Father dear, I'll gladly wait.
But ask him not to tarry!"

For the full picture, you need to go to Magpie Tales! Thanks, Tess.

Winds Of Chance

With seed heads blown by winds of chance,
bold dandelions spring up fast.
Though each has little time to last,

their parachuting fairies prance
supremely free, one must agree.
Upset, we glower, all askance.

Until their season's span has passed,
curse seed heads blown by winds of chance!

Small seed heads blown by winds of chance
think on their future days, not past,
and taunt us while we look aghast,

at thriving, golden, parent plants
so tall and proud, no living shroud,
but full of life's own joyful dance.

Unbounded vigour will outlast
us; seed heads blown by winds of chance.


Go and see Luke Prater at One Stop Poetry's Form Monday, if you want to know what is going on here! 
N.B. I keep editing the original, for I started with the intention of ignoring meter, instead going for a syllabic count, but old habits die hard, and the rhythm is gradually winning with each new edit! I think this is a work in progress...

Set In Stone?

Inside its block of stone, a latent being communicates with the sculptor, imprints its image and gives him no rest. It wills him to wield hammer and chisel to work towards its release. Driven by creative urges, the stonemason sets about rescuing embryonic beauty, like a surgeon performing a Caesarean section to save a life.

One Stop Poetry  has given us this picture prompt challenge, featuring the work of Walter Parada, and I've chosen to write 55 words for it.

Thursday Think Tank # 49

Untitled

Some things cannot be explained;
awareness creeps closer, on tiptoe,
while realization flows and flowers
from points beyond any conscious realm.

Elusive shapes pattern dream time paths
until route-march days, tramping along
unknown roads, lead to a destination
unplanned, but recognised on arrival
as the only possible, preordained end.

The Think Tank asked that we merely wrote down words that came to mind, no forward planning, simply let what happens, happen. These were my words... And then I added a picture.

Two In Tandem # 2

Illustration by jinksy

Tempered shades narrow

to point in all directions,

bursting boundaries. 

Haiku by Elizabeth Crawford 19/5/2011

This is another collaborative post between Elizabeth and I. If you would like to play along in a similar fashion, please let either of us know. Her words for my pictures will appear here on Thursdays, and my words for her pictures will be on her Unraveling blog on Tuesdays for the foreseeable future, until we work out a better plan for including others in our experiment! 
Like Susannah, who joined in here , better late than never!

9.30am And now Thursday is really underway, here's an additional bit of fun thanks to Theme Thursday who had the original version of this gossiping picture begging me to play! 

Negative Gossip?
She told me and I told her, but then we needed to defer telling others of our plan, for first we'd need to find a man. But gossip spreads and gossips run.  And now we wish we'd not begun!

Now you can gossip all you like - as long as you are spreading the word about Two In Tandem!

Blushing Bride?

 Pale petals

 deepen at centre,

 a blushing

 union

 marrying separateness,

 no longer single.

A shadorma written specially for One Shot Wednesday

Where Went Monday?

It passed too quickly for me to find the prompt on One Stop Monday Form. So here is an Octain for Tuesday, instead - eight lines of eight syllables, with a rhyme scheme of A b b , a c/c a , b A  with an internal rhyme, c/c, in line five.

Melody

In all the days I spend with you,
each moment forms a memory
which betters any fantasy.

And in my dreaming, it comes true,                     
it lives again. Its rich refrain
accompanies the things I do,

with everlasting melody
of all the days I spend with you.

Walk Into The Light?

No covers
can disguise the light
of wisdom
streaming from
between proud pages of books
which safeguard knowledge.

Thanks to Tess at Magpie Tales for this picture prompt, made for bookworms the world over. I heard it shout 'Shadorma!' to me...Perhaps I should explain, that's the syllabic poetic form which has six lines in 3/5/3/3/7/5 syllables.

Sand, Sea And ... Solitude?

By Fee Easton

A water colour sky and impasto sand-ripples paint a waiting game. One marker buoy anchors a stranded boat to puddled remnants of an ebb tide. In no hurry to begin its next seafaring journey, the wooden craft soaks up sunshine, admires its reflection in each striated salt pool, and waits for its master, the sea...

By way of a change for me, a 55 word Flash Fiction offering for One Shoot Sunday. But now I've discovered that the sea theme carries on at Monday's Child, so I've decided to add it to this post, even though Monday is nearly over, and Sunday is long gone.

Illustration by: Carmen L. Browne - 1917

Sea Edge

In creeps the water,
tickling my toes,
swirling its whirlpools.
But nobody knows
where the sea comes from
or where it all goes.

Was it in China,
or distant Japan
that this pool of ocean's
blue ripples began?
How many more miles
will they have to span?

How far have they travelled
and how many waves
crashed onto shorelines
or hid inside caves
before they arrived here,
so buoyant and brave?