Friday, 27 October 2023

A different resurrection, perhaps?


A Story in Ballad Form

At the edge of the forest something stirred
and through the dark trees came
a figure cloaked and wrapped about
with a flash of lightening flames.

It muttered spells beneath its breath
and mists rose from the lake
where some poor maid had met her death
when bitten by a snake.

Rosamunda was her name
and beautiful was she,
but the poisoned bite had made her lame
and unable to flee

the cruel huntsman and his bow
who wanted his revenge
for vows she'd taken long ago
on the altar at Stonehenge.

She'd said that she would rather die
than ever be his bride,
so he let his angry arrows fly
to pierce her in her side...

The ancient crone, a witch, in truth
had spied the young girl bleed,
and taken by the fair maid's youth
swore to undo the deed.

" By fire and water, earth and air
you'll not meet your demise!
By all the powers good and fair,
I bid thee maid, arise!"

And slowly from her watery grave
Rosamunda stepped at last
rejoicing as she realised
her troubles all were past,

for the crone had sent the huntsman forth
with promise of reward
if he remained far from this land, OR
his head would meet death's sword!

The above illustration was created by Chelsea Bednar, and offered by her mother, Margaret, for writers to use as inspiration from IGWRT's prompt back in April 2013.
With Halloween approaching, I thought Chelsea's collage deserved to be brought back to life - along with my creepy interpretation, of course. :-)
I hope today's P&STU readers forgive me, if they've read my tale before! 

Saturday, 21 October 2023

Unanswered Question

 

  Bright waters of oblivion
  in deepest streams of consciousness,
  ripple and refresh 
  all hidden corners of our lives.

  Their currents move us forward 
  at a pace the river chooses,
  and as human flotsam-jetsam, 
  we all float, but who knows why?

  Still across the crystal surface 
  of this source which bubbles upwards,
  shadow leaves continue swirling, 
  each a life with its own path.

  But these rivers do not falter, 
  are fulfilled by every journey
  without a thought of where they flow
  or what is meant to be...

Written earlier, but offered to P&SU #99, where today's prompt is 'Why?' 

Tuesday, 17 October 2023

A Late Night Muse

 Can be a help or a hindrance, and I'm not certain which one had me in its grip yesterday.
 
Although I knew this week's P&SU had a four-way prompt, it was AIR in it wildest form that grabbed my attention, thanks to several forty-plus wind speeds that have been swirling around my house recently...

Having been somewhat busy this week, I only set out to write something down late last night,  but knew I'd need a rethink in the morning, as my brain was beginning to switch off, never mind the Muse! :-)
And here's the result so far...

Air in Motion

Now winds no longer caress sun-soft skins
with delicate fingertips. They scour lips
with abrasive bites to rough and redden them,
as noses glow, eyes water, shoulders hunch 
against Winter's whirling, devil-dance storms.

Rushing Air becomes a hard task-master,
makes its young apprentices learn spiteful
arts of trickery. Their hoar frost cloaks, and ice 
- black as devil's spawn - smites victims down,
urges drivers to panic, lose control. 

For an invisible power, Wind holds
the strength of giants in its hidden depths.


Tuesday, 10 October 2023

A Translation!

 To see the original Odd Words Ode, click HERE  - for anyone who is curious to know what needed translating! Hehehe... 

A hairy buttock'd hound with a dose of delusional madness,
I’m still a dreamer with a love of wisdom.
I’m not covered in scales, or given to ticks, 
but divination from bones of sacrificed fish is one of my tricks,
as I bend over at a sharp angle to contemplate my navel - 
(I guess folks will wonder what the heck that is?)
I am known for philanthropy rather than love.
So I pray any Fist Footer who’s sent from above,
will be no shrewd, unprincipled person, but a good friend of mine.
Otherwise, why bother wasting my time?

Friday, 6 October 2023

Contrasts are the spice of life...

Around the world, Plain English is used as a communication tool. Today, as an English person born and bred, I decided to exhume this anything-but-plain snippet, created back in 2009, after a partaker of Fridge Soup listed (in random order) all the strange-looking words in the following lines. I promise my verse does make sense, once you hit a dictionary! :-)

Words, words, words...

A daysypigal hound with a dose of cynanthropy,
I'm still a romantic inclined to philosophy. 
I'm not furfuraceous or given to ticks, 
but ichthyomancy is one of my tricks, 
as I geniculate, pre omphaloskepsis - 
(I guess folks may wonder what the heck that is?)
I am known for philanthropy rather than love.
So I pray any qualtagh, who's sent from above, 
will be no snollygoster, but a good friend of mine.
Otherwise, why bother wasting my time?

Thanks go to P&SU Friday Writing's #97 for nudging me into action!

A translation (of sorts) is provided HERE, for those of an enquiring mind.