This week’s Sunday Stills prompt is our monthly color exploration, this month – Auburn Many thanks to Terri for the prompt as auburn is one of my very favorite shades
Auburn hair slid beneath his hands hot nights lying on coral sands when diamonds winked from the indigo sky serenade of waves as night rolled by adventures as they rode across the land lost as auburn hair slid beneath his hands
In the forest’s dark shroud stood a wee, tiny house not home to a human, squirrel, or mouse where the fairies came to dance and to play they come out at twilight and at break of day
By the old oak whose bark is all twisted and curled in the dark of the glade lies the fairies’ small world by the light of the moon I glimpsed me a sight of a world half in shadow and half way in light
In the space between heartbeats in the moments between sleeping and waking in the pause between snowflakes drifting aimlessly there are galaxies of light and loss vast seas of cosmos for love to cross here in those unseen spaces here where life renews here for all eternity I will wait for you
Your voice reached my ears and drew my eyes to you with all the force of an electro-magnet my heart followed the way a compass points north and then my mind with unerring precision I know in a manner unknowing precisely where you are
Kim from Writing in North Norfolk is hosting at dVerse today and would like for us to write a bit of prosery including the following line from D.H. Lawrence’s poem “Hummingbird:”
‘We look at him through the wrong end of the long telescope of Time’.
For an added challenge, we are limited to 144 words.
I take his gnarled hand in mine. Papery skin seeming somehow fragile. Hands that gently bottle fed a newborn kitten also struck fearsome taekwondo punches. Big hands, strong hands that made a little girl feel safe, that wiped away the tears and lifted the child back onto the bicycle. Hands that were meant for delicate technical work, not to be the home for needles and tubes. Brothers are weeping. We look at him through the wrong end of the long telescope of Time. Somehow the giant of a man appears reduced by the ravages of years. In my mind, I turn the telescope and see the young man diving from high cliffs into the surf far below. His hand caresses my cheek, wiping away one last tear. He whispers “don’t weep for me my angel” as I watch the light fade from his eyes.
The quadrille over at dVerse Poets Pub this week is hosted by merrildsmith who asks us to use “blanket” in our poem of 44 words.
Bland tans and shades of faded ocher blanket the hills, setting the scene with splashes of brilliant canary and saffron Autumn comes to lay her cloak of colored leaves upon the fertile soil, shielding tender seeds from Winter’s chill rich beauty, gone too soon
Our Sunday Stills prompt is hosted by Cathy at Picture This and our prompt is “winter”. Now I have a confession to make. I love Winter. I love the cold temps, big fluffy sweaters, lapgans, fireplaces and all things hygge. I live in the Black Hills of South Dakota, USA where winter temps in fahrenheit measure in the single digits and nightly lows are well below 0 (-18c). And, yes I love Winter everywhere we go. Here are a few Winter shots from some of our travels.
Come Winter and welcome bring your frozen kiss bring your stunning sunrise bring your cozy bliss
Come Winter and welcome I cherish your dimming light sweaters, books, steaming mugs my fireplace burning bright
How to I love thee? Let me count the ways I love you like the flower loves the sun’s bright rays I love you with my very soul and I’ll love you all my days between my heart and yours many words lose their way Just how many are there I have often wondered I may not know the total but, it’s more than a hundred