
*
What with one thing and another
on this trip
stones and walls
began to make their presence felt.
*
Continue reading at France and Vincent

*
What with one thing and another
on this trip
stones and walls
began to make their presence felt.
*
Continue reading at France and Vincent
Magic in the air
Created by clouds of dreams
Lilting with life
~
Clouds combined
To celebrate love for poetry
Echoes resounded
Continue reading at Emotional Shadows
*
“Indeed there is,” shouted Fat-Head, the son of Short-Neck, and he sprang into the middle of the mead house, “bend down you grizzly gawp, that I might cut off your head tonight and you to cut off mine tomorrow.”
“But if that were my covenant I could have got it anywhere.”
“Yet to you alone, it would seem, is given the power to be killed every night, and to avenge your death upon the following day.”
“That’s true,” said the monstrous man, “I will agree to what you suggest.” He bent down and put his neck across the block.
With that Fat-Head took the axe from the giant’s hand; its two angles were a full seven feet apart on the stock, yet he struck at the hairy one’s neck until his severed head lay at the base of the fork beam of the fire.
Straightaway the unnatural hulk rose, recovered himself, clasped his head, block and axe to his breast, and made his exit from the mead hall with the blood still gurgling from his neck.
*
The next day, as the men of Albion watched Fat-Head to see whether he would shirk his covenant they saw a great dejection seize him, and some asked if they should start their keen.
Said Fat-Head, “it is true, my death is coming to me but I’d sooner my neck be broken than my word.”
As night approached the carle came into the hall as before, “where is Fat-Head,” he said, “for the squat one has a covenant to keep.”
“Here I am,” said Fat-Head, rising from his seat.
Continue reading at France and Vincent

your close
proximity
to sky blue illusions
makes you privy to dark secrets
Continue reading at Reena Saxena

Image: panayota via Pixabay
“Thirteen thousand miles… How is that even possible???”
We were talking about distances, my son and I, and having established that the Great Wall of China seems impossible, we then discussed the relative distance of the moon from the earth, swiftly progressing to how navigation by the stars actually works when they, and we, are constantly in motion. A relatively minor leap took us to technology and the advances we have seen over the past decades… a conversation, I imagine, that all generations have had since mankind first picked up a stick or stone as a tool.
“Tomorrow’s kids won’t have that same sense of wonder, will they?” No, that wasn’t from me, it was my son… though I have said the self-same words in the past. Thinking of my three year old grandaughter, who calmly snaffles my phone to see pictures of my dog or plays educational games on the tablet she uses at pre-school, it was me that was left wondering…
I am of a generation who watched the men behind the banks of computers during the moon landings. Yes, we had computers back then… though not in domestic situations… Our household didn’t get the first proper, fully functional multimedia PC until the late nineties, though we had ensured the boys had grown up with the ‘new’ technology, recognising its potential. I still have fond memories of the ZX Spectrum and the Commodore 64. They were, apart from the Atari, our first introduction as a family to the world of computer games and titles like Stormlord and Hobgoblin still live in visual memory.
For my son’s generation it was the advent of telecommunications. Mobile phones that made the descent from science fiction to real life. The Nokia seemed to be in every pocket at one point and ‘3210’ became a name, not a number. The internet. Wi-fi… and now we have smartphones and wrist units straight out of science fiction, that do and store everything.
There is more processing power in a modern smartphone than in the Apollo computers, it is said… though that is almost like comparing a camera obscura to a DSLR, given the levels of technological advancement and the rapidity with which they have evolved.
Continue reading at The Silent Eye

Her people came from the place where the mist rests on the turf and the ladder to and from the heavens can unfurl. It was where they all still lived.
It breathes, mist does. The fog kisses the lungs in moisture like that from which all of them had come: the womb, the sea, the ocean sky.
Alana still dreamed of days before her mind awoke to awareness. Cocooned inside her mother, growing to the beat of steady drums and gurgling songs.
“Wombs are portable heaven,” her grandmother said, the peat spade matching her words thump to thunk. “All is created. All is attended to. All is removed that no longer belongs. it is magic personified.”
Continue reading at Na’ama Yehuda

Clouds heavy with rain
Welcome after the heatwave
Summer storms begin
I watched the heavy drops make lace as they fell on the blade of water. Watched their dance in the grooves of the decking. Saw them weigh down the heat-weary heads of the roses. And then the winds came…
Storms ravage nature
Felling the old and fragile
Price of survival

Reblogged from SC Skillman Author:
This is the first of a series giving you a few tasters from my book Paranormal Warwickshire which will be released by Amberley Publishing on 15th November 2020.

Warwickshire is a county steeped in the supernatural, as befits the county of Shakespeare and the many ghosts and spirits that he conjured up in his works. In Paranormal Warwickshire I investigate the rich supernatural heritage of this county at the heart of England in places both grand and everyday, including Guy’s Cliffe, the Saxon Mill, Kenilworth Castle, Warwick Castle, Stoneleigh Abbey, and the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, as well as in the towns of Rugby, Nuneaton and Leamington Spa.
Continue reading at SC Skillman Author
Background: Every Thursday Sue Vincent hosts the #writephoto prompt. This week’s prompt can be found here.
My form is the acrostic
This one went a bit dark on me but I like it
Covering peaks in mystery
Lingering, waiting, time stands still
Only for an eerie pause of thought
Continue reading at About the Jez of It

*
It is not normally advisable to shoot ‘into the sun’,
but in this eventually it felt permissable…
*

Continue reading at France and Vincent