Writespiration#112. 52 Weeks in 52 Words. Week 16. Backwards.

That tormentor Sacha Black has set us an almost impossible task this week . Our theme is Backwards. BUT, in addition to that, Sacha wants us to write our story backwards…!

    Rules and Pingback here


So this is my entry, Backwards Birth.

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Backwards he landed in the midwife’s hands. The light hit his eyes as he escaped the tight dark channel. The struggling went on for hours  he felt that he just had to move or choke. He awoke from his sleep to find his safe place was actually trying to push him out.

RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #102 Birth&Cheer

Happy  Birthday  Ronovan !

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This  week  apart  from it  being  Ronovan’s Birthday  the  two  words  for  the  prompt  are Birth&Cheer.

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Birth of the summer

The longest day, shortest night

Drink to Winters Cheer

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Now be of  good cheer

The birth of our  host is here

Now is  the Soltice

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After the long drought

Up went a carousing cheer

New birth at last here

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Image here

 

 

Wordless Wednesday! Nativity

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The Newbie has arrived

I have become a Grandma , OH! what can I say

A miricle has happend  a new generation born today.

Of  my blood’s blood is  born a boy

A beautiful ,wonderful   bundle of joy

My  boy has  come of age he has become a man

There are not words enough to say how happy I am.

 

Today our son and his wife have given us the most precious gift, new life. The little Newbie I have spoken of for the last nine months.

There are not words special enough to express how happy  and grateful that we feel.

Thank you all for baring  with me. I have one piece  of advice for them , words I hope I have fullfilled. 

 

EvDaDaDec : Nativity

He  burned  bright  he burned high

His  arrival en-blazoned  in the sky.

He had but  a short time on this earth

For  some  reason  he decided mankind  had worth

 

She  was  modest she was pure

All who knew her of  this were sure.

She  was gentle and she was fair

Where ere she walk  goodness filled  the air

 

The quiet  young man at  her  side

Had  believed her  when she  had cried.

The  stranger  who  he  had met on his way

Had  convinced him of her truth that day.

 

To Nazareth for the census count

The girl pregnant with a donkey  for her mount.

In  those  days  you not ring  ahead

So not one inn had  for them a bed.

 

Finally  as her time grew near

An innkeeper  took pity on Our lady  dear.

No room  but  the stable dark  and damp

His  wife  found  blankets and a lamp.

 

I wander if the good wife  stayed

To  help   help the tired  and frightened maid

I’d  like to think  so, so  the young  couple  were not alone

For it would of been very  scary unaided  so far from home.

 

There was love and magic and light from somewhere, all around

Birth though a natural act is tough but somehow in it a miracle can  be found.

The light  draws people in  to see the new born child

There in a manger swaddled  tight,  loved  by  his mother mild.

 

He  burned  bright  he burned high

His  arrival en-blazoned  in the sky.

He had but  a short time on this earth

For  some  reason  he decided mankind  had worth

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Gate Keepers:5

Slowly  shrinking, the horizon falls, as the first light shows off it’s starkness.

The boiling new born sea all fresh and wide eyed watches the first  dawn’s brightness.

All seems safe and brightly lit when of a sudden the sea and sky turn grey.

Boiling rain begins to fall , and screaming at the horrors of  it’s bloody birth this world begins it’s first day.

At first, the sound , a droning  was not upon the ears a threat.

Louder it became slowly encompassing all capturing  as in a net.

Crawling, across the ground, the horrors advanced across the virgin soil

The gate keepers could only watch and despair  at the beginning of their toil.

The faint humming became a drumming louder, louder ever coming

It set the gate keepers feet to fearful running, running.

They fled, they ran , useless though, they were perused becoming sought

They fled like rats from water , faster faster …………. no use before they started they were as good as caught.

NaPoWriMo, Day 30. Death Again, Birth No More

NapoWriMo Day30.  Today’s prompt is to  find a shortish poem that you like, and rewrite each line, replacing each word (or as many words as you can) with words that mean the opposite. For example, you might turn “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” to “I won’t contrast you with a winter’s night.

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I chose a poem on death by Mark R Slaughter, his name and the name of the poem intrigued .

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It’s Death Again

It’s Death again – He’s always there –
Watching, waiting – e’er the stare!
Every time I look behind
Or reach to pull the window blind,
I catch a glimpse of grubby hood –
A little clue to where he stood;
The glint of light that caught the scythe.
Perhaps if I could pay a tithe…
But O! no use, he’ll never go.
The adamant phantom; don’t you know
He will but wait until it’s time
For me to hear His fateful chime? –
The toll that claims my destiny,
To Hail: ‘You’re next, it has to be…’
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 200

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Birth No More

 

 

It is not birth firstly – she is never here

Not looking or waiting – no  not even looking

Never do I look back

Or do not reach to push the wall, seeing

I let go no sight of a clean head

A huge clue to where he fled

The dull of darkness that let fall the scythe

Maybe not, I could charge a tithe

But O! Such use she will always stay

The unsure person we all know

She will not wait until it is late

For you to not hear her nondescript murmur

The silence that doesn’t claim my past

To not say,  “your not next , it doesn’t need to be”

 

 

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