For the Day 4 Prompt, a challenge to describe an abstraction with concrete nouns. Photo by Steve Halama on Unsplash
What it is is something smouldering
A tiny reed, slowly taking flame
That perchance with time might
Burst into a raging flame
What it is is a call and response
A place remembered and returned to
In a season of despair
In its light one sees
the self in all its glory
warts and all,
and learns the painful truth
that one is human too
For the Day 3 prompt, A list poem of band names. I fear my choices betray my age (and my penchant for Christian Contemporary Music). Photo by frankie cordoba on Unsplash.
Six Pence None The Richer
for you corrodes my conformity
into discordant notes.
On Black Streets,
six degrees north of Building 429
a Rush Of Fools Switches foot
and stops to breathe again.
DC Talks to the Newsboys
Ignoring Caedmon’s Call
Until the Third Day
when the Second Chapter Of Acts
Snowed in, somewhat. For the Day 2 prompt.
in the winter when it rains.
When the wind, like the fingers
of a malevolent one probe beneath.
in a place sometimes lost
where memories once lived,
lies the linger of disquiet.For forgetting.
the smell of fresh wood wafts in,
borne as though on wings of the wind.
Then, these bones – aching in the cold – rejoice.
Off prompt for Day 1, Photo by Francesco Gallarotti on Unsplash
Let us begin again
at dawn. With the stirring songs
of the Skylarks ringing in our ears,
the dappled light of the rising sun,
smell of moist earth and the distant lap
of a gentle wave calling us.
In the shadows of the stations,
along this winding tortuous path
we have climbed this mount,
where like a seed once dead
is reborn, we arise again.
In attempting to prevent mobile phone use behind the wheel, righteous indignation got the better of David, a traffic cop. He is now £1,610 lighter.
Moved by the Uduehis’ quintuplet problem EFAB have delivered a three bedroom house, a promise made by the Federation’s Head of Service, ostensibly in faith.
Sex with Dr K failed to cure Patient A’s MS. A battle to keep his license is his reward for the ensuing six month affair.
In self defence, Ifeanyi chained his feisty wife Obiageli to his I-pass-my-neighbour overnight. Her strength did not however prevent him from beating her first.
The smell of old things. The past, present and future colliding in a cacophony of bagpipes and squealing children. Flower-speckled greenery. The colour of spring.