Midsummer Gold

Golden Light

arise

to greet the dawning sun

*

gathering armfuls of pure

golden light

to crown the summer king

*

the Lord of the Hunt

proud and virile

mighty sunbeams amidst oak leaves

*

watch as he takes his place

beside the queen

*

the Lady of the Meadows

bedecked in flowers

her belly swelling with future’s hope

*

reconnect

with nature’s turning wheel as you

light the flame

of creative passions

*

arise

as the long day

begins

Path in golden light

For the first time since moving into my new house, I went out for a dawn walk this morning. It was the summer solstice – how could I not?! Though it wasn’t particularly pleasant to drag myself out of bed at 4am, in the end I was very glad I did as it was a beautiful morning. I was going to save the pictures I took for a later date and simply post my usual Wordless Wednesday today,  but as I also wrote the poem whilst I was out and about so I thought I may as well share them all with you now.

Here are a few more pictures:

I hope you like them.

Happy Solstice!

 

FFfAW: Homecoming

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Photo prompt © Majesticgoldenrose

Homecoming

Something was wrong.

Majif  frowned. He’d spent too long evaluating his enemies’ weaknesses to overlook the lack of guards on the gate. He freed his blades, fearing the worst…

Reality outdid expectation.

Within the walls guards and servants alike sprawled in macabre display: blood drenched and staring; throats slashed open. The attack had occurred so swiftly that few weapons had even been drawn.

Caution shifted into desperation. Only a Shadow Warrior could wreak such havoc. And Calina was within. He hurried though the hallways, dread coiling tighter. 

“Majif…” She breathed his name like a prayer. Relief swamped him.

But euphoria shifted to terror as a shadowed figure appeared at her back and a knife pressed against her throat.

“Please, let her go,” he begged. “She’s innocent…”

“So was my family, but you showed them no mercy.”

The blade swiped. Blood gushed, staining his world red as his beloved crumpled. He didn’t see her killer move, but he felt no urge to fight as cold steel touched his throat, biting deep.

Without Calina, life wasn’t worth living.

Word Count: 175 words

To read the other entries or to submit your own, click the little blue frog.

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This post is for Priceless Joy’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers challenge. This week’s prompt was provided by Majesticgoldenrose. Thank you for a great prompt!

 

FFfAW: The Search

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Photo Prompt © Pamela S. Canepa

The Search

“They were around here somewhere. I swear!” Tynen scrambled recklessly over the rocks ahead, peering into each nook and cranny with almost feverish intensity.

Velana followed at a slower pace, choosing each footstep carefully as she climbed the craggy slope. “No one’s found any in years, Ty. Admit it – you imagined ’em.”

Her brother glared. “No. They were here.”

“Well they ain’t here now.”

“They are. We just need t’ keep looking.”

Velana rolled her eyes but followed Tynen further up the craggy slope. Grandma had told her to follow the brat, so follow him she would.

“I dunno why you’re so bloody excited, anyway,” she said. “It’s just a mushroom-”

Tynen turned, waving his arms extravagantly as he teetered on the edge of a rock. “But it’s not ‘just ‘a mushroom’, Vel! It’s the most delicious mushroom ever. You’ve never tasted anything like Grandma’s mushroom soup!” He returned to his hunt.

Velana shook her head and stomped in his wake.” Food!” she said in disgust. “Why’s it always about the bloody food?”

Word Count: 175

To read the other entries, or to submit your own, click the little blue frog.

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This post is for Priceless Joy’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers challenge. This week’s prompt was provided by Pamela S. Canepa. Thank you, Pamela!

I’ve actually had this written for several days, but I wasn’t sure whether or not to post it. Whilst I like the interplay between the characters (they were very enjoyable to write), I find the story itself just a little ‘blah’. I decided in the end that I may as well post it. I’d love to know what you think.

The Feeding Tree

Sparrow in Feeding Tree 1.1

sitting

in blissful peace

enraptured by sunlight

awaiting the birds’

descent

Sparrow in Feeding Tree 6

There’s a cherry tree in our new garden that we’ve nicknamed ‘the feeding tree’ because the birds seem to love it. I’ve already spent many pleasant hours sitting in the sun on the patio, with my camera pointing towards the tree. It’s given me lots of time to practice using my new 420-800mm lens. While we mainly have an abundance of sparrows, there have also been pigeons, great tits, robins and blackbirds spotted around it – though not all of these have stayed still long enough for me to photograph them!

I get a lot of shots like this:

Glimpse

Here are a few more pictures taken of the birds (yes, mainly sparrows – just the one pigeon) that did actually stay still long enough for me to photograph them:


This post is for Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge. This week’s theme is Gardens – a perfect theme, considering I’m currently enjoying taking lots of pictures in my new garden.

cffc

 

Echoes of Long Ago Games

Tree House Behind Rhododendron 2

listen

can you hear them?

echoing

fleeting peals of laughter

the joyful reflections of childhood games

of long forgotten adventures

held in the space’s fabric

memories existing in gossamer insubstantialility

absorbed by the earth

food for the

soul

Under the Tree House

The garden of our new house has a couple of features that immediately sold the place to me. There is both a tree-house and a summerhouse. And there are numerous signs that they were both favourite sites for children’s games in the past – including wax crayon scribbles and abandoned toys.

Seal.jpg

As the youngest person now living in the house is my seventeen-year-old nephew, the garden no longer echoes with the sounds of children’s laughter. But the tree house and summer house both remain great places to photograph.

And to dream…

Pod

The summerhouse, now generally known as Pod, has become my place for writing. I can often be found sitting down at the bottom of the garden, with a cup of tea, a notepad, and a far away look.

Pod Door

Update: Since I started writing this post earlier today, we’ve had visitors – one of whom was a five-year-old boy. The garden seemed to welcome the sound of childish laughter, again. He rescued the seal (who is now called Super Seal) from the cargo netting, and before he left he insisted that I put him safely inside the tree-house for the night so he could keep warm.