Thursday photo prompt: Summit #writephoto

This is my entry for Sue Vincent of Daily Echo‘s #writephoto.

Rules and Pingback Here

The Summit. A Nonet.

Heart fit to bust as I near the top

Lungs heave in and out fit to bust

The sky’s grey and forbidding

But life is for living

I reach the summit

And see the view

All is revealed

I step

Through.

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Thursday photo prompt: Wishes. #writephoto

This is my entry for Sue Vincent‘s Thursday Photo Challenge.

Rules and Pingback Here

Wishes

They passed the wishes tree every day on their way to school. It was a sight of wonder every colour under the sun.

Beautiful rainbow hues that touched the eyes and the soul in equal parts. As children they had no idea what the rags and colours were for, assuming that they were wishes,hopes and dreams.

When they grew they learned the true meaning of the ribbons. Sadly they began to understand what the tree represented.

Each ribbon was a soul who had been “Disappeared” Father’s, brothers, husbands,sisters, mothers and daughters. Gone, either buried in a mass grave or languishing in a jail forgotten by their captors.

The ribbons showed that they were not forgotten by their loved ones and familes.

As the children grew into adults they lost friends and family to the evil forces that ran their country. So they either tied a ribbon to the tree or worse their lives were represented there by their favourite colour.

The Disappeared

Such a sight to see

So many disappeared souls

Displayed on the tree

The oppressed who have no choice

Ribbons here give you a voice.

Thursday photo prompt: Crossing #writephoto

This is my entry for Sue Vincent of Daily Echo #writephoto.

Rules and Pingback Here

The Crossing

Every day she waited at the crossing. Hope to catch a glimpse of the opening. That strange trick of the light that she had only seen once before when she was a small child of three.

Every day at dusk she contrived to be there just incase the opening appeared again. She stayed in the village she was born in, enjoying a full life, marriage, children,grand and great grandchildren. Helping others always she was known to be a kind and generous woman.

As the years went by people gave up asking why she went to the bridge at the end of every day. It just became accepted, part of life.

It was on her hundred and third birthday that as she stood by the bridge that the light changed. She rubbed her eyes and sure enough there was the opening. There was the village and to her astonishment the same young man who had waved to her all those years ago was beckoning to her.

As fast as her old bones could carry her she began to cross the bridge. It was a long bridge and at first she thought she’d never make it across. Strangely the nearer she got to the young man the quicker she seemed able to move.

As she reached the young man he took her hand and asked her why she had taken so long, she smiled at him and as she looked into his eyes she saw her reflection….. She was young again.

The opening closed the moment she stepped through it.

Back in the village no knew what had happened to her. They searched for weeks be she was nowhere to be found. They all decided that she had,had a good innings.

All bar one child who had witnessed the whole incident. He he never told anyone what had happened but every evening at dusk he visited the bridge.

Thursday Photo Prompt.Wave. #writephoto.

This my entry for Sue Vincent of Daily Echo #writephoto.

Rules and Pingback Here

Wave

Watching the mist rolling in on the tide none of them could of imagined what was coming. The empty beach looked so peaceful and safe.

The cattle in the fields behind them knew, they moved uneasily and their mooing grew to a crescendo. The dogs knew too they all left save one. She stayed close to her master.

Unsettled by the noise of the cattle the people of the cliff top moved towards their houses. The man and his faithful dog the last ones to leave.

At midnight the cattle finally fell silent and the lights in the three seaview cottages went out.

The mist stayed for three days. None of the villagers ventured near the beach or the clifftops. They all felt the menace in the air.

On the fourth day the mist was gone, so we’re the cliffs, the cattle and the cottages and their occupants.

The landscape was vastly changed, the land now ran straight to the sea, the fields level with the beach. Three families gone….five generations between them.

The beach was different too no longer golden and peaceful but grey and forbidding. They never found a soul from the cottages nor any of the cattle only the dog remained.

One of the villagers took her in but though still a gentle soul she was now so timid she was almost unapprochable.

After a while she died, no one ever spoke of what happened again untill many years later when on a beautiful sunny afternoon another mist rolled in.

They had no idea that this was the second wave.

Sue Vincent’s Thursday Photo Prompt. Wings.

This is my entry for Sue Vincent of Daily Echo‘s Thursday Photo Prompt.

Rules and Pingback Here

Wings at Dawn.

The wind in my feathers, I rise

My sharp eyes see eternity

Making my way into grey skies.

Like my soul I fly free.

The land spreads beneath

From mountains to beach

Golden field and green leaf

As for my destiny I reach.

Tiny pink buds dance in the mist

The day will lengthen and warm

All will be bright and sun kissed

This is the promise of dawn.

#writephoto.

Thursday photo prompt: Beginnings #writephoto

This is part of Sue Vincent’s of Daily Echo #writephoto.

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They awoke, with no memory of how or when they had arrived there. They stood and watched in wonder as the dawn painted the skies purple,pink, blue and gold.

Gone where the horrors of what they survived, the famine, drought, the bloodshed, the hate all wiped from their memories. They all stood as one marvelling at the sunrise. They were seeing it for the first time.

Mother Nature looked at them all , tutting as she turned to God and asked.” Why have you brought them back.” Her eyes filled with tears of pain and anger. ” You see how they treat me, they rape and abuse me until I am ruined and spent… How could you?”

God touched her arm gently and smiled his beautiful smile. “You can’t get round me this time” Mother Nature wailed, “I can’t go through it again, I just can’t”

God handed her a challis of Nectar and took one himself. Then he spoke, he rarely spoke but his voice was so beautiful that Mother Nature stopped bristling and relaxed. “One more time my dear, just for me, please.” He knew as he spoke the words, she could not resist. “These are my children they will learn”

Mother Nature put down her challis and slowly stood, looking down at her new dress of green and blue she sighed deeply. As she limped away she said to no one in particular…” They never learn, he is deluded. He keeps giving them another chance and they keep destroying me”

God raised his challis calling after her. “Here’s to New Beginnings.” As the words left his mouth Mother Nature flinched as a “child of God” ripped up some plants and threw them to the side for no apparent reason.

The tears welled up in her eyes again. “Beginnings” she hissed through her broken and blackened theeth.

Thursday photo prompt: Remains #writephoto

This is is my entry to Sue Vincent’s of Daily Echo #writephoto prompt.

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Remains

Blue feather finely cut to a quill

Remains discarded, redundant, still.

All of life has to be recorded

Yet so little time is afforded.

With every word a life is spent

Heaven bound or Hell bent.

Death is the only one to use the quill.

But he has overslept, is he just tired or ill.

Always Death is very busy

But not today, is he?

He had decided to take forty winks

Unfortunately leaving humanity on its brinks!

So how can we be rescued from this fate

Of never being able to escape the living state.

Asleep Death remains

Oblivious to our turmoil and pains.

Sue Vincent Thursday photo prompt: Turrets #writephoto

This is my entry for Sue Vincent of The Daily Echo‘s Thursday Photo Prompt Challenge.

There he lay on the summit of the Clift next to the castle. He knew he was dieing, his wound was mortal.

The gaping hole just above his tail had long since stopped hurting. He was so tired and cold. Both the feeling of tiredness and cold were new to him. Always the internal fires he owned had kept him warm and there was no room for tiredness in the life of a Dragon king.

He looked across to the castle where his beloved mate was clearly visible. She looked glorious even in death affixed to the turret and covered in gold.

He wept, he grieved a feeling until now unknown to him. He thought of revenge but it was too late he was already turning to stone.

The last of the dragons, now gone.

Thursday photo prompt: Avenue #writephoto

This is part of Sue Of The Daily Echo, Thursday Photo Prompt.

Rules and Pingback Here

The Avenue.

There he stands all alone

For his sadness turned to stone.

At the far end of the Avenue

Waiting for his heart to beat anew.

When a young and carefree lad

He was careless of what he had

His sweetheart such a beauty she

By his side wanted to be.

But he a young and callow boy

Did not care about her joy.

Another one more attentive than he

Took his place and set her spirit free.

When she left he learnt the pain

Nevermore to see her face again.

So at the end of the avenue

He stood until he turned to stone of blue.

#writephoto.

Sue Vincent’s Thursday Photo Prompt. Ascent

Sue’s #WritePhoto Prompt this week:

I have always feared being a lost soul, trapped in the spot where I had died. So I have written an Acrostic Poem about the moment such a soul is finally released. I pray that all souls are released.

Ascent.

Ailing soul lost in pain

Suffer no more

Climb the stairs your freedom to gain

Eternity is beyond the door

No more purgatory for you

It’s your turn to fly

Take your chance, start anew

Your time for Ascent is nigh.