Memories, Mysticism, and Life with funny old people
He Stands Alone
He stands alone in the still air
the last bastion of civilization
waiting for the breath of air
to stir his pumps back to life
and give him purpose once more
and so he waits, a murmuration
of Starlings his only company
he stands alone in the still air
This post inspired by Crimsons Creative Challenge 213
Til next time ~Stand tall like the mountains ~JP
By the light of the moon
by the light of a star
she traveled all night
from near to far
searching for the crimson glade
she walked the night through
but she was not afraid
for when the sun broke through
with it’s dazzling light
before her eyes lay a magical sight
bright crimson ferns covered
the forest floor and a tiny pine
where there was none before
word count 67
This post inspired by Crimsons-creative-challenge #212
Til next time ~See the magic ~JP
An Ordinary Life
A tractor rests in the shade of the tree
green grass still edges the fallow field
while bright sun lights the sky
and warms the stone and earth
the undiscovered treasures
of an ordinary life
A moment to cherish the fading
warmth of the growing season
with all the harvesting done
and the plenty of Summer put by
a moment of thanks to remember
before Winter gilds the landscape
with bright diamonds of frost
the beckoning treasures
of an ordinary life
Word count 79
This post inspired by Crimson’s Creative Challenge 211
Til next time ~Watch with glittering eyes ~JP
BLACK MAGIC
It looked like a coffee shop, just like any other
but the moment that you walked inside
the menu might make you wonder
Black Magic was the daily brew
black or white, bold or smooth
with a little shot of “success” for you
“Try a Dirty Zombie” the chalkboard read
with chai, espresso and a shot of “focus”
it’ll surely wake the dead
I stood in line and waited patiently
for my “Black Velvet” latte
with an extra shot of “tranquility”
I left the shop singing a happy song
and I turned to take one last look
but alas, the magic coffee shop was gone
word count 105
This post inspired by Crimson’s Creative Challenge #209
Til next time ~May you coffee be strong ~JP
Deep in the glade I stood
watching and waiting
wood nymphs danced
with wild gyrating
From the underbrush came
a mysterious sound
with excitement I watched
my heart started to pound
The ground creaked and groaned
fallen leaves began to stir
I coaxed “come out my friend”
as a long snout began to emerge
Off the edge of the map lay
secrets we can never imagine
that’s where you’ll find me
for here there be dragons
word count 76
This post inspired by Crimson’s Creative Challenge #208
Til next time ~Don’t meddle about in the affairs of dragons ~JP
Follow the Light
“Go” they said, “follow the light
find the path of the gods so bright
that you may find your second sight.”
I found no altar to the kindly Sun
but a pulsing light I must out run
a single shot from the Corpsemaker Gun
*Corpsemaker Gun – a huge thermal cannon developed by the Mechdwarves during the War of the Witches.
Word count 65
This post inspired by Crimsons Creative Challenge # 205
Til next time ~When the Queen is unhappy, the land is not happy. When the Witch is unhappy … RUN ~JP
Time for another reach into the dark recesses of my creative mind. When I looked at the picture prompt, all I saw was Gaia weeping, dark clouds of tears. OK could, possibly been influenced by listening to Blackmore’s Night lately.
Grandmother Tree
On a craggy old clifftop
there once grew an elegant tree
her branches were strong
but it wasn’t too long
‘ere they named her
“The Olde Hanging Tree”
Time and again, they strung up a man
on branches barren of leaves
stumps twisted and dark
it soon broke her heart
innocent souls lost on
The Olde Hanging Tree
One day they brought a young woman
practicing witchcraft she had been seen
despite her innocent cries
they condemned her to die
by a rope hung from
The Olde Hangin’ Tree
They left her choking and dying
there came a terrible sound
the wind gave a scream
there on the ground
lay the last branch of
The Olde Hangin’ Tree
Now the tree blooms brightly
in springtime, as the girl dances
Tree and wind sing their song
branches covered with leaves
and she named her
“Grandmother Tree”
Word count 146
This post inspired by Crimsons Creative Challenge
Til next time ~Be Kind ~JP
Oh mistletoe, mistletoe
hanging on the tree
or hanging in the archway
where lovers steal
a kiss, or three
but as a token
of affection
there’s really not
much connection
mistletoe for lovers
seems a ghastly oversight
kissing in the doorway
beneath a hemiparasite
eeeewwwww
This quirky bit of nonsense inspired by Crimson’s Creative Challenge # 202
Til next time ~Winter is coming ~JP
When I Am Old
When I am old I shall wear
cotton skirts with combat boots
which I shall carry as I muddy
my hem walking barefoot in the forest
I shall sit at the edge of the pond
and dip my toes in the icy water
I shall drink a cheap wine coolers
from icy bottles on a summer day
and I shall write my most secret wish
upon a leaf, stuff it in the bottle
and launch my wishes into the pond
I’ll watch as it bobs away
headed for it’s destination of nowhere
but for now, I think I shall take off my
sensible shoes and walk barefoot
in my own grass, and write my wish
on a leaf and blow it into the wind
and practice a little for that time
when I am old
word count 136
This post inspired by Crimsons Creative Challenge #200
Til next time ~don’t take life too seriously, you’re not gonna get out of it alive ~JP
Star gazed at the old boats with undisguised longing. They rested on a dry dock a stark reminder of the Water Elementals power. Oh how she missed the water, days with her family pulling in nets heavy with fish. With no natural rainfall and the cloud seeders struggling, boating was a luxury no longer even dreamed of. And so, Star brought out her small test kit and, finding the water fairly safe to drink, filled her canteens before walking on. A small smile stretched across her face at the memory of wet spray on her skin.
Word count 96
This story inspired by Crimsons Creative Challenge # 199 (wow that’s an auspicious number!)
Til next time ~May the rain fall softly on your fields ~JP
Crone and Curmudgeon 