Catching Up with WordCrafters Prompts!

WORD*CRAFTER*PROMPT

~Comparison & Contrast

Write about anything that strikes your fancy. It could be "Hot & Cold", "Beauty & Ugly", "Night & Day", or "Heaven & Hell" for a few examples. If this leaves you feeling empty inside, then you could let the image below fulfill your writing purpose....he he he see what I did there!!

“The Soul of a Mustang” by Victoria Ivanova

Nonsense

Ring a contrast where the shadows fall

Only light will show them tall,

The spirits dim behind them.

Jockey bright and horse in marble

Run a race along the wall

Only the sun will drive them.

WORD*CRAFTER*PROMPT

~Birth: It can be the birht of a child, or birth of a thought, or a birth of anything that hits your muse. If you are not hip on that then here is an image as well (photo by Tom Chambers & the last image posted at Magpie Tales).

Glass Flower by Tom Chambers

We fed the Wild on blown glass chips in our good soup bowl,

Frozen tears of melted sand, a beach that used to be,

Now ground, contemplative, into a delicacy.

We daren't watch the magic feast, only wait and listen;

They eat with careful scrapes and clops, then stop.

Upon our woven tablecloth is not one sharp drop.

We fed the Wild on blow glass dreams

On flowers that didn't smell but seemed

And they left our minds licked clean

Where once had been a meadow green.

Comments

To Blue Fields Far Below

Sharing with The Sunday Muse #228 , The Fashionable Twenties. A sycamore fairy sits crosslegged in the road Dragons swim toward smooth hills above the storms Vines embrace the telephone poles Someone washed the blue skies and she knows It's time to dare the salty foam It's time to wade through the eternal fields' folds And gather golden apples for home. Hoping this finds you with space to daydream and a good book in which to wander. Working on turning last week's prompt into a longer piece, as I found myself intrigued by the idea of tea in the garden as combat. Social situations are not my forte. As it's still Spider September, there will be a chihuahua-sized jumping spider that is none too happy about anything but hunting squirrels (that's for you, Mom). -- Chrissa

Once Upon a Future Past

Sharing with The Sunday Muse #204 . It's too far in the afternoon, I thought but evening ran behind me dragons, demons, and the sleeping world; afraid to turn, to wake me. Power needs its horror stories, its ghosts. It's too far in the afternoon, I thought but evening followed close; a fantasy of goodness, where the gold is always covering bones. Power needs its fairy tales, its witches. It's too far in the afternoon, I thought but evening treads my hem, like an army from the dragon's teeth and all the lies therein. -- Chrissa

Flagrant

Sharing with The Sunday Muse #217. Come be part of the conflagration. :) Oh, they called the mob to celebrate But only the fire heard They called the mass to congregate But only the dry grass bowed A conflagration Called to prayer Hungry for light Hungry for air Oh, they called the mob celebrate Wearing flames in their hair They called the mass to congregate Faceless in the burning air. Greetings and salutations. I'm not sure what to say--we're not celebrating the 4th this year (not that I'm prepared to cede one holiday to the authoritarian idiots in charge of our state, but our grass is still dry from the heat and we have a dog terrified of fireworks...so we're celebrating by bunkering down and watching Howling 2 at the gleefully deranged suggestion of my sibling) and otherwise I've turned our dead corn plants into the basis for this year's Camp NaNo project...it's turning into a weird year, the kind of year where I'm reading more horror than norma...

A Weed on The Curb

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