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.

Macabre!

Some children Pass the Parcel
and some Pass their exams,
but ones who've used this 'Passing Place'
belonged to Mums with prams!

Another off-beat Mag from Tess and Steven Kelly called forth this oddity!

Adrift In Dreams

In the moment sleep envelops bodies,
causing them to plummet into night,
floating shapes of random jigsaw pictures
begin to infiltrate the inner sight.
Like boats adrift in dreams sans map or compass,
the journey's never under our control,
for darkness leads all where it will till morning
when daylight lays its claim upon the soul.

Thanks for the inspiration go to Tess and Elena Kalis at The Mag 182.

Good Advice

Dance a fandango
a can-can or a tango
and let you cares go!

Ole!



Thanks to Tess and Henri Toulouse-Lautrec at Mag 181 for this idea! :)

Blank Page

The paper stares upwards, its pregnant, featureless face begging the artist to capture some character as yet unknown. It yearns for the imprint of pen or pencil, for bold lines to form images on its surface, or for words which will speak stories for posterity to enjoy... 

Only then will the blank page find fulfillment.

Thanks to Tess and M C Escher at Mag 180 for this week's prompt, which, to my amazement, has turned out to contain 55 words. So come Friday, it will be added to G-man's list, as well - make the most from the least, that's my motto...

Is This A Bubble Car?

Dream pictures flicker
across the screens of darkness
while night suggests sleep.


Tess has offered another mind bending picture to get our engines revving for this week's Mag. I have, of course, changed gear, in order to head for the realms of fantasy!

Ghost Rider

Clothes have become an encumbrance, for suddenly Summer's arrived.
This chap, here, has taken a bold stance and a way to cool off he's contrived.

He's waited for moonlight to clothe him in naught but its silvery light,
now he'll hop on his trusty old Harley and disappear into the night.

His skin will appear luminescent, so if people see him flashing by,
they'll suppose he's ghost or a ghoulie, not a streaker who's still a bit shy!

Written for Tess and Andrew Wyeth at The Mag 178

Greedy!

An egg-bound goose had found relief,
but her clutch was stolen by a thief
who saw the eggs were really gold,
and grabbed as many as he could hold.
The laying process had been tough,
but golden nuggets were not enough -
the young lad wanted ingots, see...
How easy for stacking they would be!
He planned to smelt down all the eggs,
and dreamt of this when he went to bed.
But come the morning, when he looked,
he found it was his goose he'd cooked!

A flight of fancy written for Tess and Agustin Berrocal at The Mag 177

Pictures Not Words

No words have come to me yet for Mag 175, where Tess posted an image by Musin Yohan.
Something may occur to me later in the week, in which case I shall add it here. ** (see below!)
In the meantime, I give you the progression of thought pictures which lead to the totally abstract, final offering, where everything has turned upside down, as that way, the colours suggested to me a lightening of the spirit as an escape from the menial tasks of working in the fields.

** I'd hardly clicked on the 'publish' button, when my mind took over from my fingers, and there was this shadorma, waiting to appear. Possibly the act of  not thinking, allowed the new thoughts in!

Spirits lift

towards the heavens
and burdens
grow lighter
as the mind refocuses
in meditation.

Burning Desire

If a chap says "Will you light my fire?"
I'd hope that his thoughts would range higher
than a flame for a fag -
I don't like to nag,
but effects from such smoke can be dire!

Written for Tess and her Mag 174 with apologies to Stanley Kubrick.

A Load of Moonshine

Is what lights this dreamscape scenario! It originated from a colourful painting by Marc Chagall, which Tess chose for her Mag 173 this week.

It put me in mind of something which has been in the news recently and,  putting all the facts together,  prompted me to write the following ditty...

I've been on that space station too long;
though I'm back on Earth, something's wrong,
because now I have found
that my feet leave the ground
each time that I burst into song.

55 Words for Friday

And G-Man




Today the wind has been blustering,
mustering its strength to  huff and puff
our hairdos into new styles never before seen
by man nor beast, each a joke  against nature,
whose tendency would be to let tresses fall
in soft, straight locks, sleek and tidy -
not frizz fuelled spikes which fill us with horror.

Pill Popping?

Reminders

Like little press studs,
each line of bubble-pack pills
has been popped open;
They marked the days of the week,
no need for a calendar.

Conundrum

Question;
does a lock keep
you in, or others out?
Perhaps the answer lies within
the key.
Power
of posession
belongs to he or she
who has sole rights of ownership...
Unless,
of course,
the locksmith made
his choice by providing
more than one of these magic tools.
Stalemate!

Three cinquains locked together for Tess and her Mag 172