(un)masking the freedom ~ Deepa #writephoto

the clouds
holding back it’s grief
until they
let it rain incessantly…
the soil
holding it’s love secret
until they
let the petrichor emanate…

Continue reading at  Sync with Deep

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Growing…

We took a stroll around the garden… my son leaning on my shoulders, me grateful that I am just the right height to fit under his arm. Weather permitting, it has become a daily ritual since we planted his new flower beds. I cannot help but smile quietly when my hitherto clueless-about-gardening son comments on how well the heuchera is doing and notes that the ajuga reptans is in flower.

My younger son prefers to grow vegetables and nourishes an ambition to build a greenhouse in his garden. For his birthday, a few years ago, I bought him seed potatoes, cabbages and strawberries… and that was that; he loved growing food for his family. This year, for my elder son’s birthday, just before the lockdown, I filled his wall baskets with pansies, sweet-smelling dianthus and trailing campanula, rescued from the wilting racks of the supermarket.

I love that both my sons have found joy in growing things, though one grows for beauty and the other for the table. It is interesting to see how watching things grow illustrates their different characters. There is the same excitement from both of them, but while my younger son cannot wait to show me how tall his brassicas have grown, the elder is having learn to be patient as Nature takes her time as he waits for plants to bloom.

So, every day, my son and I tour his garden, watching the progress of every leaf and bud, from the discarded forget-me-nots I rescued from the alley behind his house, to the latest acquisition, the Abracadabra rose. We have watched the tight buds swell and begin to reveal glimpses of colour. The new gardener asks ‘when’… the old gardener is just glad the roses survived being transplanted at this time of year.

Continue reading at The Silent Eye

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Remembering the Eve of Holi ~ Shilpa Nairy #writephoto

Holi is the festival of colours, an ancient Hindu religious festival which is now celebrated in many parts of India. This festival signifies the victory over evil, the arrival of spring and the end of the winter. It’s a night and day festival. We also call it as Holi Hunnime or Purnima i.e Full Moon day in March.

The first evening is for Kamanna (Kamadev) Dahana or Holika Dahana (Burning of evil) as called differently in a different part of India and the following day is playing of colours called Holi.

Continue reading at Shilpa Nairy

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Ballerina #mdnighthaiku

On a sunlit stage

Nature’s ballerinas dance

Banishing shadows

*

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Guest author: Cynthia A. Morgan ~ Miséricorde… a new book

Miséricorde

Book One of The Mercy Series

It is the year 2446. The first three Horsemen of Revelation’s Apocalypse have ridden. The first Horsemen, Pestilence, War and Famine, have shifted world-wide cultures and governments from technologically advanced civilizations to dictatorships that are ruled with an iron-fist. Social structures have returned to what they were during the Middle Ages and commoners have very few rights.  Liberty is a distant memory.

Before the final Horseman, Death, is released to ride, the Archangel of Mercy makes a bold plea. Tzadkiel cannot believe that mankind has forgotten what it means to be merciful. He asks to be allowed to search for even just one human who remembers. 100 years are granted, but at the end of that time the Archangel will be required to release the final Horseman. Releasing Death will conflict with everything the Archangel represents and be the hardest thing he has ever done, but he must agree.  The Horseman must ride.

Tzadkiel takes human form and comes to earth. He finds that humanity is ruled by greed, hatred and fear.  Compassion and kindness are considered a detriment, but he does not give up hope. After 96 years his long search leads him to New France where he encounters Levesque, a cynical military captain who hates the world he lives in.  He blames God and any who serve Him for the calamities the world has suffered. When Levesque learns who Tzadkiel is, he takes revenge by imprisoning him and subjecting him to torture that would kill a human.

Tzadkiel, however, is not fully human. His life-force comes from the energy of the sun and can regenerate his body in hours. It is not entirely a blessing. After suffering Levesque’s torture for nearly a year, a young servant named Lourdes finds him. Through an act of selfless mercy she reveals her true nature and Tzadkiel knows she is the one he seeks, but somehow they must escape Levesque and the ruthless dictatorship he serves.

Time is running out.  He has waited nearly 100 years, but the Horseman Death is growing impatient. He wants to ride. Tzadkiel has located the priceless treasure he sacrificed so much to find, but now he must find some way of protecting her from the calamity the Final Horseman has unleashed.

***

How do you feel your writing style differs from your previous work? What considerations should readers have while reading?
While Dark Fey was very much a Young Adult Fantasy, The Mercy Series has taken a slightly darker turn, landing somewhere between a PG-13 and an R-rating.  I veered away from the poetic writing style I used in Dark Fey, making this series more conversational in its tone with darker, moderately graphic content.   It tells the story of a harsh new reality that exists on Earth with characters that are equally harsh.

What inspired you to go in this direction as an author?
I began this tale with the intent of writing a multi-dimensional story.  I hoped to share the story through the perspectives of several characters, rather than just one, and to provide the backstory not so much through expository prefaces or chapters, but as the plot progressed.  I sought to challenge myself to create something dark that could still be tender and emotive, with which readers could connect on many levels.

Does this book have a hidden message? 
It isn’t really all that well hidden.  The story speaks about the courage to be kind in the face of cruelty.  To be compassionate without motive.  To show thankfulness through kindness and appreciate blessings through generosity.


Cynthia A. Morgan is an award-winning author; free-lance columnist, and a member of the Poetry Society of America and Artists for Peace. Creator of the mythical realm of Jyndari and author of the epic fantasy Dark Fey Trilogy, Morgan’s powerful story relates how the power of hope, acceptance and forgiveness can change the world, when positive action is taken to create change.  The only way to achieve peace is to become peace.

Morgan is also the author of the popular blog Booknvolume where over 18K followers can explore Morgan’s own brand of poetry, English Sonnets, musings about life, personal recipes, photography, book reviews and more.

Upcoming projects include a fictional drama in Regency Period England, a non-fiction exploration of the supernatural/paranormal and beliefs around the world, and a return to the realms of Dark Fey in a prequel/sequel.

Some of her other interests includes a deep love for animals and the environment.  She is passionate about music and theatre, is frequently heard laughing and finds the mysteries of ancient times, spirituality, and the possibilities of life elsewhere in the cosmos intriguing.  Morgan believes in the power of love, hope and forgiveness, all of which is reflected in her lyrically elegant writing style.


Find and Follow Morgan

Blog /website    All Things Dark Fey Website    Amazon Author Page     Twitter

Facebook     Pinterest     GoodReads     Publisher’s Author Page


The Dark Fey Trilogy by Cynthia A. Morgan available via Amazon

The Reviled: The Power Of Hope (Dark Fey Book 1) by [Cynthia A. Morgan]The Reviled: The Power Of Hope

(Dark Fey Book 1)

From a young age, Ayla has known her gift. Dedicated to become a Guardian of Childfey, she has spent her young years in the Temple, studying magic and ancient rites. There, she also learns about the mortal enemy of all Fey of the Light: the Reviled.

Gairynzvl is a Fey of the Light, abducted by the Reviled when he was young. Now, he is a Dark One; lurking in the shadows, lingering near Ayla.

After Gairynzvl commits treason against his own kind, Ayla listens to him when no others will – and the conflict that unfolds will change their world.


Standing in Shadows: The Strength Of Acceptance (Dark Fey Book 2) by [Cynthia A. Morgan]Standing in Shadows: The Strength Of Acceptance

(Dark Fey Book 2)

The Light-loving Fey have rescued Gairynzvl. Now, he wants to return to the dark realm of The Reviled, and rescue the innocent childfey.

It will take strength, courage and more than one Fey to breach the borders of The Uunglarda, and to slip past the legions of Dark Fey. Gairynzvl knows the secret ways in and out of the dark realm. Slipping into the darkness is easy; escaping with the childfey is another matter. If captured, his band of liberators will pray for death long before it comes.

Will the Fey of the Light risk a savage war to rescue the innocent childfey, and who will join Gairynzvl’s quest to the realm of shadows and fear?


Breaking Into The Light: The Magic Of Forgiveness (Dark Fey Book 3) by [Cynthia A. Morgan]Breaking Into The Light: The Magic Of Forgiveness

(Dark Fey Book 3)

The Reviled are the enemy.  They embody brutality in every form. The Fey of the Light know only too well how savage the Dark Fey can be and daring to think otherwise invites tragedy.

Gairynzvl was once one of the Reviled and lived the riotous life of all Dark Ones, but his acceptance by The Fey of the Light has changed all that.  Now, he is opposing The Reviled by returning into their dark realm and rescuing childfey. The actions taken by him and his band of Liberators are not only changing lives, they are fulfilling ancient prophecies and proving long-accepted beliefs inaccurate.

Those who have lived in the Light all their lives are suddenly faced with unavoidable questions. How is peace achieved? Can Light unite with Darkness? Can all the atrocities the Dark Ones have inflicted really be forgiven?The Fey of the Light have a deadly choice to make:  ignore the emerging truth or risk the tranquility of their realm and go to war to offer the Reviled a chance to change.


Tell me a story…
If you are a writer, artist or photographer…If you have a poem, story or memoirs to share… If you have a book to promote, a character to introduce, an exhibition or event to publicise… If you have advice for writers, artists or bloggers…If you would like to be my guest, please read the guidelines and get in touch!

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The Festival ~ Wallie’s Wentletrap #writephoto

The Festival of Shadows was a memory. And like a memory, it could be frightening.

The girl watched the spectacle of dancing monsters, the giant, the scavenger, a man and a child, all theatrically presented in exaggerated flare. Aasfresser, that was the name for the scavenger. Sekr, the giant. She did not remember the man’s name.

The child was the Question.

Continue reading at Wallie’s Wentletrap

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A visit to Haddon Hall

It was the morning after the Riddles of the Night* workshop that I have shared again here over the past week or so. We always feel the need to ‘come down’ after these weekends and wandered out into the landscape. Although the workshop was over, apparently, the work begun on the weekend was only just beginning… Part One of the day’s adventures can be found by clicking the highlighted link.

Every time we had driven past Haddon Hall, I had the feeling we needed to go there. The feeling bugged me a bit, as stately homes have not really been part of our research. We tend to be drawn to the landscape and sites five thousand years old, rather than five hundred, so I could not see why we should need to visit the place.

But, what with the upcoming Silent Eye workshop, The Jewel in the Claw, being set in Elizabethan times and the odd connections with the local gentry that our Riddles weekend had highlighted, we finally decided to let curiosity get the better of us and found ourselves walking up the carriage drive, the morning after Riddles of the Night.

There has been a Hall here for a thousand years… that bit of information already made the visit more intriguing, as it ties it in with the age of ‘our’ old churches. Most of what is now visible is medieval and Tudor, with additions and alterations spanning the time between the twelfth and seventeenth centuries. It is classed as one of the finest medieval country houses in England and everywhere you look, from the topiary in the gardens to the leadwork of the plumbing and the carvings in the stone, the Boar and the Peacock, heraldic symbols of the Vernon and Manners families, can be seen.

It is certainly impressive, yet, in spite of the parapets and grandeur, even from the bridge over the River Wye, it has a homely ‘feel’ somehow. Unlike many such houses, it has retained a sense of integrity in its architecture, with none of the twiddly bits, porticoes and fashionable facelifts that have marred others of its ilk.

The manor of Haddon was listed in the Domesday Book of 1087 as belonging to William Peverell, thought to be an illegitimate son of William the Conqueror. A manor, in those days, was not a house, but a tract of land with rights for the local lord to establish a court. In 1153, the land was forfeited to the Crown and 1194, a licence was granted for the land to be enclosed by a wall.

The manor passed to the Avenell family and in 1170 it became the property of Sir Richard de Vernon when he married Alice Avenell. The prominent Vernon family built most of the current Hall, apart from the earlier chapel and tower and the much later Long Gallery.

A romantic legend of the Hall dates to 1563. The beautiful Dorothy, daughter of Sir George Vernon, was in love with John Manners, the second son of the Earl of Rutland. Sir George forbade the courtship, either because the eligibility of a second son was not thought sufficient, or because the Vernons were Catholic, while the Manners’ were Protestant. During a ball at Haddon hall, Dorothy slipped away and met Manners on the footbridge where he was waiting with a horse. The two eloped and were married, in defiance of her father.

We do not know what happened next, whether the two were forgiven readily or grudgingly for their elopement, but we do know that two years later, when Sir George passed away, Haddon Hall passed to the couple. In 1641, their grandson, also named John, inherited the title of Earl of Rutland. His son, their great-grandson, was made the first Duke of Rutland in 1703 and took up residence in the ducal estates of Belvoir Castle, leaving Haddon almost uninhabited… and largely untouched, thus preserving it in its unaltered state.

It was the ninth Duke of Rutland, also called John Manners, who, in the early part of the twentieth century, recognised the historical value of the building and spent his life restoring and preserving it for future generations. Today it is the home of Lord Edward Manners, brother of the eleventh Duke, and his family and while much of the Hall is obviously kept as public rooms, with private rooms for the family, there are places where the two quite obviously overlap and a showpiece becomes a home.

The Hall has a sense of familiarity about it. Perhaps in part because it typifies an era of British history studied by generations of schoolchildren, perhaps because it has been used as a setting for so many well-known films, like The Princess Bride, Jane Eyre, Elizabeth and the Narnian film The Silver Chair.  But there is more to it than that… in spite of the grandeur, you can tell the place is loved.

So much for the history. We were lucky enough to see the Hall decked with greenery and trees for Christmas, with a lute player and a singer remembering carols of old. Being early on a December morning, we were also lucky enough to have the amazing little chapel to ourselves for a while. And one by one, little clues began to fall into place as to why we had needed to visit…

*Riddles of the Night was a Silent Eye workshop in Derbyshire, in December 2017. Parts One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve and Thirteen can be found by clicking the highlighted links.

Posted in England, historic sites, History, Landscape, medieval wall paintings, Photography, riddles of the night, Stuart France and Sue Vincent, The Silent Eye, workshop 2018 | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

Not Forgotten ~ Anita Dawes #midnighthaiku

Not Forgotten - Writephoto.png

Reblogged from Anita Dawes and Jaye Marie

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Eve ~ Di #writephoto

Spectators chant and dance in a frenzy, raising dark spirits from another dimension.
Who is good, who is evil?
Who will prevail and triumph,

Continue reading at  pensitivity101

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The Small Dog’s Remedy for Isolation Blues…

She says that it’s typical that I’ve stopped moulting,
No furballs and hair rolling black and revolting
Across her clean floors, floating into her dinner,
I thought she’d be pleased, being onto a winner.

She says it’s not fair that it’s so warm and sunny…
I know that she’s weird, but you know, it’s not funny,
‘Cause she isn’t happy to walk when it’s raining…
But now it’s all springtime and she’s still complaining!

She says that all winter I’ve been bringing mud in
(And other odd things that my paws may have stood in)
But barring occasional treats that I’m dropping,
The floors don’t need hoovering, let alone mopping!

She moans that it’s tidy, and no dust can settle,
And frankly, that’s putting me right on my mettle,
‘Cause if I’m behaving, and she’s got the blues…
Then what does a loyal small dog have to do?

Continue reading at The Small Dog’s Blog

 

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