Daily Archives: June 7, 2020

A Fine State of Affairs – Guest Post by Author, Iain Kelly at TRSA

Posted on June 7, 2020 by Sue Vincent

Reblogged from The Story Reading Ape: A couple of years ago I wrote a book. I was quite happy with it. I sent it to a couple of literary agents, and unsurprisingly given the odds, heard nothing back. Without a … Continue reading →

Posted in reblog | Tagged Amazon, authors, Barnes & Noble, book promo, Books, GooglePlay, kindle, Kobo, smashwords | 2 Comments

Privilege ~ Reena Saxena #writephoto

Posted on June 7, 2020 by Sue Vincent

rocks take pride in wisdom of centuries Continue reading at Reena Saxena

Posted in photo prompt, Photography, Poetry | Tagged micropoetry, Writing Challenges | 2 Comments

The Loss Of Touch In A Post-Covid World

Posted on June 7, 2020 by Sue Vincent

Originally posted on Helen Glynn Jones:
I attended a funeral on Wednesday for a dear family friend, someone I’ve known my whole life. He didn’t die of Covid; rather, of old age and ill health and a broken heart. He…

Posted in Photography | 1 Comment

Divine Sunrise ~ Dr. Crystal Grimes #writephoto #song

Posted on June 7, 2020 by Sue Vincent

1. The sunrise brings another day, But mists of mind, they veil my way. I look within and meditate Upon the Great Eternal Flame. 2. The rising sun is in my mind, And all the mists, I leave behind. I … Continue reading →

Posted in photo prompt, Photography, Poetry | Tagged Inspirational Music, Law of Attraction, Lynda Lyre, Metaphysics, Mp3, nature, New Thought, prayer, Spiritual practices | 2 Comments

Veiled ~ Kim Blades #writephoto

Posted on June 7, 2020 by Sue Vincent

Blue is withered from the sky as mist falls like an eyelid’s silent blink on wind-warped, jagged cliffs, Continue reading at Kim Blades

Posted in photo prompt, Photography, Poetry | Tagged birds, nature, Our planet, Sue Vincent #writephoto, Write-photo | 1 Comment

The heartbeat of eternity

Posted on June 7, 2020 by Sue Vincent

Peering at the faded remains of a dark ‘instant’ photo from the seventies, I felt both close to and distant from the young woman silhouetted against the fence. Her future is my memory. She was still a schoolgirl, yet to … Continue reading →