This blog is for all who desire to create with words and images.
You are encouraged to participate in any way that is meaningful to you.

~
All prompts beneath the photos are only suggestions.
You are free to use the photo to be inspired to write any way you desire.
~
There is no deadline on posting,
you may offer your writing to any prompt anytime.
~
Write and you are a writer.

Sunday, November 30, 2008

C - Sunday's Alphabet Prompt

~
Suggested Prompt...
~
C is for Coffee
Write a poem, story or an essay that includes a cup o'joe.



_________________________



Squirrel Hunting With Grandpa


Three a.m. on a winter morning in the 1940s
I water and feed the rabbits (why do I always get the cold job?) as grandpa put homemade biscuits in the top warmer
of the woodburning 4-burner stove. Grandma slept in.
Grandpa made the coffee strong
Handful in a pot of boiling water, one of those gallon sized
Blue Ceramic with white flecks coffee pots.
To the smoke house, slice off fresh cured bacon with rind on
Fry to a crisp, remove coffee pot from stove
Put bacon on towel to drain
Crack two brown hen eggs at a time
Into the smokin' bacon grease they go
Throw the shells into the coffee pot to settle the grounds
(In those days there were no electric coffee makers with paper or gold filters)
Turn the eggs once when edges are brown
Butter the biscuits (real butter) and call Jim
Fix his plate first while his eggs are frying.
Grandpa had everything down to a science. His coffee was so strong it was a task to close one's eyes after drinking a cup. Without cream or sugar. Black Coffee. Steaming hot. The perfect drink preceeding a squirrel hunt, Grandpa's favorite prey. Couldn't even blink!
Eggs were done clear through, bacon crunchy, biscuit crusty,
soft buttery inside, gone in a flash.
Grandpa sits down, drinks his coffee, tells me to go start the truck, a 1949 GMC 3-speed stick shift green farm work stinks like chickens and pigs and hay vehicle. Grandpa trusted my driving skill since both he and my step-father taught me to drive when I was six years old. We gleaned corn from farmers' fields to feed the pigs. My cousin Denny never learned to shift too well...because I always put it in high gear when it was his turn to move up the row. He stalled the motor every time, and Grandpa would yell, 'Danny, get out and let Jim move the truck.' Denny fumed. He didn't like to hunt or do anything outdoors, I guess that is why Grandpa favored me.

Grandpa put the guns we had oiled and checked the night before into the space in back of the seat (he never put them outside where they could be stolen). Unloaded, of course. Three primary rules never to be broken around Grandpa was that you always assumed a gun is loaded, never point it at anything you're not going to shoot, and never run with a gun. Violation of any of Grandpa's rules resulted in a painful trip to the smokehouse, where he kept a cured rawhide paddle. Three whacks on the bare bottom was the usual fare, and one dreaded a fourth swat. He rarely went that far, however, knowing the embarrassment that just going to the smokehouse caused. Everyone knew the procedure: Enter, drop your drawers, bend over. No pleas for mercy, no whimpering, no screaming. Just endure the three, then you're done. The worst part is walking out to the twitters of the assembled friends and relatives. Part of the punishment was the humiliation. I only went to the smokehouse three times. That first trip brought me four whacks. I learn fast.

Driving 50 miles to the Younger farm (yes, relatives of the Jesse James gang) in Chester, Illinois in the pre-dawn darkness took over an hour, so it was almost sunup when we arrived. We took our position in the hickory woods and waited, usually back to back. Grandpa usually got his limit of 5 squirrels in just a couple of hours. He was a combination stalker/camouflaged ambusher. His trusty .22 rifle was his preferred weapon for squirrels, and a 16-gauge double-barreled shotgun for rabbits. His squirrels were normally shot through the head, as Grandpa didn't want to waste the meat. He bought me my first gun, a Savage-Stevens .410 gauge double barrel, which I learned to use with deadly proficiency under his tutelage.

Making a mistake with a gun was something Grandpa never did, and if we did, we paid for it. I did on two occasions. One, after my very first kill at age 8, I ran with the rifle to retrieve the squirrel, I was so excited. I remember begging with Grandpa not to take me into the smoke house, all the way home. It did no good, only made matters worse. I got the four whacks.

I drank coffee most all the time at Grandma and Grandpa's. They also let me smoke. Bull Durham, roll-your-own. I was twelve.

I smoked for 20 years, up to 4 packs of Pall Mall or Camel or Lucky Strike (no sissy filters for me, like Marlboro) before I quit cold turkey. I also quit drinking alcohol. I still drink coffee, though, hot and black or sometimes with a bit of cream and friendly conversation with friends. Marvelous beverage!

Jim Pankey, USN (Ret.)



One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This is a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE!

If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.

Saturday, November 29, 2008

Colorful Inspiration

Photo by Lisa
Lisa's blog - Wearin' My Heart on My Sleeve
~
Suggested Prompt...
~
1. Describe in rich detail the colors in this photo.
2. Create a piece of writing using some/all
those descriptions in a unique way.



_____________________



Petals the colour of freshly churned butter melt into the rich crimson as soft as a crushed velvet bedspread. Royal purple, irridescent against the buttercup yellow stamens, bursts forth from the red and orange heart of the flower. In the back ground cool baby blues and vibrant greens vie for attention among the purples, oranges, yellows and reds, all over looked by blinding white.

Martin lay on the scree, hidden by the short wind blown bushes. He looked through his binoculars at the cave. The dragon lay sleeping, its large body contorted into colourful folds. The scales on its back were rich crimson, blending to ochre and buttercup yellow on its belly. Flashes of irridescent purple coated the bony ridge that stretched across its back. Martin thought it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. The wind changed and the dragon woke. It opened its baby blue eyes and gazed towards Martin. He was transfixed. It raised its head. The inside of its mouth was deep red, soft as velvet. The flame came out of its mouth orange but it was white hot by the time it reached Martin. He never had a chance of escape.

~ InkPot



One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This is a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE!

If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.

Friday, November 28, 2008

Black Friday

Photo by Dan Felstead
Wood and Pixels Narratives - http://www.woodandpixels.blogspot.com/
ETSY Shop: Wood andPixels - http://www.woodandpixels.etsy.com/
~
Suggested Prompt...
~
Tis the season?



For those not in America here is an explanation of Black Friday.
Though do not feel you have to write of holiday shopping,
anything that you find holiday inspired.



____________________________

T'is the season of snow
though not everywhere
does the ground become white
with cold Winter air.

T'is the season of lights
except in the dark
in the deep forests unreached
by the gaze of the stars.

T'is the season of love
for all those who have it
but not for the lonely,
forgotten and deprav'ed.

T'is the season of hope
for those that are lost
that they may find their way
to warmth and not frost.

T'is the season of faith
in whatever you believe
not only Hannukah, Kwanzaa
or Christmas Eve.

T'is the season of joy,
celebrations unfurl,
for anyone and everyone
all over the World.

~ Cynthia S



One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This is a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE!

If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.

Thursday, November 27, 2008

Thankful

Photo by Cyndy
~
For more of Cyndy's Photography visit
~
Suggested prompt...
~
I am thankful for...



___________________________

Gratitude

Warmth shines,
a golden hug spreading
through the field.

Take my hand and
we'll walk

together
comforted
hoping,

thankful for this
new day.

~ Angie Werren



One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This is a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE!

If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Dreams of the Heart

Art by Aleta Jacobson
Aleta's art on MySpace & Tripod
~
Suggested prompt...
~
My heart dreams of...



_______________________


My heart dreams of Picasso, Dali, sno-cone's with tiger's blood flavoring, a heaven that everybody gets into, a passionate kiss, laughter so pure and good and contaigous. My heart dreams of beautiful girls falling in love, puppies wagging the nubs of tails as their momma comes in from the backyard with full teats hanging. My heart dreams of utopia, of better medicine, of satellites harvesting solar power and beaming it down to the energy-hungry masses. My heart dreams of the perfect words which, when set down on the page just so, would say it perfectly, would say it so well that any more words would be overkill. My heart dreams of poetry, of supernovas lightyears across, the sound of a baby's feet slapping on clean hardwood, and a taste of God.

~ Killerwit


One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This is a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE!

If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Who's afraid of the...


Photo by Cyndy
~
For more of Cyndy's Photography visit
http://www.pbase.com/cyndycat
~
Suggested prompt...
~
Write a story from the villian's (any villian's) perspective.
Perhaps the big bad wolf is simply misunderstood.


_____________________________

Once upon a time
The wolf gobbled up grandma,
An ageing and somewhat chewy old bird.
"It's always a pleasure to help
Reduce the health care cost
To society,"
He thought to himself,
Contentedly.

~ Sacha van Straten




One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This is a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE!

If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.

Monday, November 24, 2008

Crossing

Photo by
S. Kay Murphy
~
Suggested prompt...
~
Cross the bridge. What is on the other side?



____________________________________



Dense fog had made the journey quite tough. She saw the outline of the bridge from a distance but couldn't make out its detail.

With each step she took, another detail filled in.

With each step she took, she was closer to her past being past.

With each step she took, she was closer to her future being now.

And, the bridge was change.

~ Denise



One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This is a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE!

If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.

Sunday, November 23, 2008

B - Sunday's Alphabet Prompt


Photo by Cyndy
~
For more of Cyndy's Photography visit
~
Suggested Prompt...
~

Quick think of three B words...
now write a piece using them.
(yes, pick new words if you must... no one is grading you.)
.

.

Do you have a letter of the alphabet picture?
Email me... themuse.honey@gmail.com - Sunday is Alphabet prompt day.




________________________


Beauty asked the big, bad beast,
Do you plan to harm me?
I plan to love you.
Oh, really?
Yes!

~ RCBonay



One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This is a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE!

If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.

Saturday, November 22, 2008

Searching for...

Photograph by François Dubeau
François' photos and a link for his art can be found at -
~
Suggested prompt...
~
She was searching for...



____________________________


it was there all the time

she gazed across the sea of green
to the place where she had come
where was she going?
what did she think she was doing?
there were no answers for her on this side
but
what she didn't know was what she had been seeking
was all around her
within her
she only needed to open
her heart
to see
go off the beaten path
he said
go beyond your wildest dreams
he said
what he didn't say was
that this would
be the hardest journey of her
life
she would not have a map
she would not have a guide
she would be alone with only her wits and her strength
what she didn't know was that
she loved this
she knew just where she was going
she didn't need anyone to tell her what to do
she just did it
by her wits and her strength
and then she realized that the true
journey
was not on that path
nor across that bridge
but the journey was within
for all that she was seeking
it was there all the time

~ TesoriTrovatiJewelry




One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This is a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE!

If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.

Friday, November 21, 2008

Sit For a Spell

Photo by Dan Felstead
Wood and Pixels Narratives - http://www.woodandpixels.blogspot.com/
ETSY Shop: Wood andPixels - http://www.woodandpixels.etsy.com/
~
Suggested Prompt...
~
Come sit for a spell and tell of tale from your life.



______________________________

Beyond the porch
Which marked the border
Of our independent state
Of being,
You carried me once,
Out of daydreams
And into my hopes,
Where languidly we would sit
And marvel at the stars,
'I wonder,' you used to say,
'If they can see the brilliance of our love
Shining out to them
Through the darkness?"

~ Sacha van Straten



One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This is a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE!

If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Find a Penny...

photo by Kathryn
for more of Kathryn's photography visit -
~
Suggested prompt...
~
Luck



__________________________________

as i was taken away in cuffs
head pushed into the door while forced into the car
they let her walk away
i couldnt believe my luck

driven to the station
pulled out of the backseat
pushed into a wall
i couldnt believe my luck

sworn at, and spit on
looked down upon
these small town cops are brutal
i couldnt believe my luck

my mother was out of town,
and i only get one call
" hi dad"
i couldnt believe my luck

stuck in a cell for hours
while my father waits outside
and the reverend from the church
i couldnt believe my luck

after a long ride home
my father did all that he could
not to knock me out
i couldnt believe my luck

court soon, better get that collared shirt
public defender
poor town
i couldnt believe my luck

lawyers to the stand
i prayed to god
tears fell from my eyes
there is no such thing as luck

~ Halyzon



.

One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE!

If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Nevermore

by Cyndy Largarticha
For more of Cyndy's Photography visit
~
Suggested Prompt...
~


____________________________

big black bird
when i first saw you
you were very big
i fed you crunbs
from my cookie
i was delighted to see you

i next saw you picking at something
on the asphalt
i wondered what it was
you minded the cars
as they drove by
jumping away
waiting
and coming back
as each one passed

then i saw you in the big field
where stones grow
with names carved into them
some standing straight
some askew
i was crying that day
and you cocked your head
inquistively
then you raised your great black wings
and flapped noiselessly
away

today
you have come
again
to me
it seems to be the day
you are a beautiful bird...
noiselessly
you landed
in my garden
i didnt see you until i looked up
your head cocked to the side
inquisitively

its no matter
at all

~ JustSomeThoughts


_________________

.

One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE!

If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Cold Moon

Suggested Prompt...
~
Offer a poem about a cold, quiet night.



__________________

Softly the wind blows
And scatters the leaves
The moon shining brightly
Beyond the trees
And stars shine
So heavenly
With no expectations
No secrets
No good-byes

~ Simplicity

_________________

.

.

One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE!

If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.

Monday, November 17, 2008

Singing Sweetly

photo by Highlander
~
Suggested prompt...
~
Tell me a Swan Song...
.
_________________
.

Come closer, love. You are breathtaking. I choose you.
Now and for all of the nows to come. Come closer, love.
~ Denise ~
.

.

One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE!

If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.

Sunday, November 16, 2008

A - Sunday's Alphabet Prompt

Photo by Cyndy
~
For more of Cyndy's Photography visit
~
Suggested Prompt...
~
Use the letter A creatively in your writing.
Stuff it full of alliteration, a poem with rhyming A's,
however, whatever way you want.
.
.
Do you have a letter of the alphabet picture?
Email me... themuse.honey@gmail.com - Sunday is Alphabet prompt day.
.
_________________________________

A for Apple

A fruit that delivers
A color and taste
And even claims to keep
A doc away from ‘Kate’

All juicy it looks
Ah! a black spot I see
A piece in your mouth
And part of a tail wriggling free

~ SSQuo

___________________________________

.

.

One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE!

If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.

Saturday, November 15, 2008

Wishes

by Cyndy Largarticha
For more of Cyndy's Photography visit
~
Suggested Prompt...
~
Quick, make a wish.
.
________________________
.
As I ponder the beauty of this one dandelion, my mind wanders to another place when the little girl once sat in the field full of dandelions.

The beautiful yellow dandelions brought warmth to her heart and tickled her little bare toes. She stood up and began twirling around with her hands reached high into the sky and her eyes closed. She could feel the sunshine on her face.

The little girl was thanking God for making such a beautiful world for her to live in. As she opened her eyes, she saw what she thought were fairies flying around her. Just as she became lost in her imagination, she stumbled and fell to the ground.

Sitting on the ground once again, her eyes focused on the fluffy little something by her foot. She touched it and it burst with fluff's being carried by the wind. It was then that she realized that there weren't any fairies.

The little girl became sad and she thought for a moment about God and his beautiful world. Suddenly she felt alone in her thoughts and decided to challenge her belief that God was real. Just then, she picked one of the fluffy little dandelions, filled her mouth with air and blew. She wished that she could just know that God was real and that He loved her.

As the little girl watched the fluff's flying into the sky above her, she felt something touch her leg. She quickly looked down and found a bunny leaping into her arms. He touched his nose to hers and it tickled. It was then the little girl's heart filled with truth. She knew in her heart that God loved her.

See, only God could know how much she loved bunnies....because she had never told anyone, not even her mommy.

~ Simply Heather

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.

One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE!

If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.

Friday, November 14, 2008

Fairy Tale

Photo by Highlander
~
Suggested Prompt...
~
Once upon a time...
.
____________________________
.



What she heard, at first, was his singing. Late on a moonlit night, she would hear a sweet tenor voice, the notes wafting over the valley, then dropping into her canyon like snowflakes in early spring. One night, she took Mars, her Wolfhound, and headed up the canyon along the stream to find the troubadour himself.

She did not expect to find him in the King's keep. He could not see her in the shadows below the tower, so she stood for hours, listening to sad ballad after sad ballad. Finally, as the sky began to lighten, she headed back down the canyon.

The next day she inquired of the people in the village, and discovered that he had been imprisoned by the King for failure to pay taxes. This, surely, could be remedied. Such a man with such a voice deserved his freedom. She gained permission to see him the following day. When she and the jailor finally reached the top of the tower, she found a young man as handsome as she was beautiful.

"I can pay your taxes, set you free," she told him without preamble.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because your songs should not be imprisoned here."

"I cannot take your charity," he told her, not with pride, but with a humble integrity, a strength of will that seemed as strong as his arms appeared. She looked into his deep green eyes.

"Then you will repay me by singing at my wedding."

He agreed. And it was only after he was released, and he came to find her to thank her, that he learned she was not engaged. At least, not for long....

And so he did sing in her wedding... and to her, softly, on their wedding night.

~ S. Kay Murphy

.

.

One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE!

If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Little Secrets

photo by Kathryn
for more of Kathryn's photography visit -
http://www.pbase.com/katwilkens
~
Suggested prompt...
~
What secret is being whispered?
.
_______________________
.
'Don't tell Mommy and I promise you a lollipop!'
~ SSQuo
____________________________________
.


One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE!

If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Years From Today

photo by Highlander
~
Suggested Prompt -
~
Imagine yourself years from today, walking up to this park bench.
Who is meeting you, why?
~
(This Simon & Garfunkel song may add to your inspiration.)



.

_____________________________

.


I turned off the bedroom light and wondered what the next day would bring me. Tomorrow, I will be 75 years young and I just can't imagine what God would have in store for me on my birthday.

Tomorrow has become today and I'm awakened with the sunlight shining on my face. I sense God's presence. "Good morning, Lord.", I say; and I can feel in my bones that today is a precious day.

Once dressed and warmthed by my morning coffee, I feel strangely led to take a walk. I know that God is holding my hand and leading my way; for my bones are tired and muscles weak. I let Him lead me.

As I approach the park, my eyes suddenly become perfectly aware of this sweet lonely little bench. The sunlight is beginning to warm it's sides and it looks so inviting. I decide that it must be a perfect invitation to rest.

I sit there, on the little bench and watch all of the young children running around in the park. I see the younger women walking their puppies and others loving their babies. I see the old feeding the birds and friends walking together. Just as I begin to feel alone, God speaks to my heart. He tells me to wait.

I begin asking Him why? What is there to wait here for? "What are you up to, I ask?" Suddenly, He interrupts and I feel this touch on my shoulder. I turn around to see this frail older woman standing behind me with a gentle smile on her face. I look into her eyes and catch a glimpse of someone familiar. Who could this stranger be; with her hand so warmly resting on my shoulder?

Then she speaks and I know. It's my friend whom I haven't seen in nearly 50 years. The one that I've always prayed for and wondered about. Where did she go? What did life bring to her? Was she still walking with God these so many years later?

In that moment, God opened my heart and spoke ever so softly to me...."Happy Birthday, My Child."

~ Simply Heather

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One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE!

If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Lest We Forget

Suggested Prompt...

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Offer a prayer for peace.

Veterans Day ~ 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month

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When my father was 18, he enlisted in the army--something he felt compelled to do in order to defend his country during WWII. Before he left, he married the little Irish lass of his dreams, telling her, "I'll be back in a year." So Mary waited... for her husband to return home, for her life as his bride to begin... and for the birth of their first child. The baby boy was born nine months after the wedding... nine months after my father left for Europe. So Mary continued to wait for her husband, so that she could introduce him to their son. Another nine months passed. The baby became ill... and died. My father never met his son. Still the war kept him far from his family, from his wife. As the long months stretched into years, Mary, bereft in the absence of her husband, the loss of her son, craved the comfort of a man's strong arms, and so she wrote a letter similar to those read by so many men during wartime who cannot return home: "I love you... but I must let you go." Losing her, I believe, was the single biggest sacrifice my father made in his lifetime... one he never fully recovered from.

And yet... He was never bitter toward his country. He remained a strong patriot to the end of his life. His grandparents had come to this land from Ireland and had found here all the freedom and prosperity they'd dreamt of. They began a legacy of patriotism and service that was passed down to their children, to their children's children.

This past Fourth of July (my birthday), I went to my father's grave, stood next to his headstone, and sang his favorite song, "Danny Boy."

"And I shall hear as soft you tread above me,
And all my dreams shall warm and sweeter be...
If you'll not fail to tell me that you love me,
I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me...."

Let us not fail to tell those we love how much we appreciate the sacrifices they have made so that we could continue to live in the land of the free, the home of the brave.

~ S. Kay Murphy


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One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This is a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE!

If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.

Monday, November 10, 2008

Belief

Suggested prompt
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A poem about your faith or beliefs.


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Faith is knowing the unknown
Exists within our spirit
Where proof is never shown
None see it smell it hear it

Faith cannot be meant for
Keeping people in a row
How can the spirit soar
If it’s not allowed to grow

Faith cannot be taught
Through the barrel of a gun
By leaders who distort
To make all people one

Faith is only me
In a moment of my own
Only then I see
What only I am shown

~ Stevie G.B.

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One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This is a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE!

If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.

Sunday, November 9, 2008

Worn

photo by Kathryn Wilkens
for more of Kathryn's photography visit -
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Suggested prompt...
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Tell me of the last day these shoes were worn.
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He had hit her for the last time. She lay awake all night, then, right before dawn, slipped out of bed and crept to the parlor. Her fingers silently removed the lace from one of his boots. She tested its strength by yanking it taut between her fists, then re-entered the bedroom. Minutes later, she fled, barefoot, to meet her lover by the stream.
~ Kathryn Wilkens
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One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This is a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE!

If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.

Saturday, November 8, 2008

Grand Adventure

Suggested prompt...
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Write of an adventure.

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"I really have to pee," Madge announced loudly, the irritation evident in her voice.

John sighed. This is not what he'd intended when he booked the trip. The environment, the shared experience of beauty... the package was supposed to bring them together, help them rediscover intimacy. Between the trip itself, the gear, and new clothes, he'd sunk a lot of money into the trip. He'd wanted Madge to see that life... that he... wasn't all about work.... Maybe he was just trying to assuage his guilt....

"I'm serious. I really have to pee. Bad."

Madge looked past him to the tour guide, seeking his eyes behind his dark glasses.

"Uh, you bet," the young man answered her slowly, dragging out the words. "Let's just get past this next rapid--"

"Hope I don't pee in the boat then," she pouted. "I really didn't expect these kinds of conditions... no bathrooms... Can't they just set up porta potties along the river? Jesus."

Madge continued to grumble, at least quietly now, to anyone in the boat who would listen, as John simply stared at her. What had he been thinking? Where was his brain when he'd seen her at Jack's party in her red stilettos and tiny black dress? What had possessed him to marry her, for Christ's sake? All that Catholic guilt, all that still trying to please his father shit. All that need for a trophy to prove who he was. One thing was certain, she wasn't who he was. She was now the albatross around his neck, and the sooner he made amends, the sooner he would be free. He cleared his throat.

"Madge?"

"What, John?" She turned to face him.

"I've been having an affair."

~ S. Kay Murphy



One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This is a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE!

If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.

Friday, November 7, 2008

Rainy Day

photo by Highlander

Suggested Prompt -

Offer a poem about a rainy day.

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I am rain
when I fall in love
I overflow
into the river
of my soul

I am rain
when I lose my love
I overflow
Into the sewer
of my mind

I am rain
when I find new love
I overflow
Into the seed
of a new rose

I am rain
when I am alone
I overflow
Into the sea
of possibilty

~ Stevie G.B.

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One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This is a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE!

If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.

Thursday, November 6, 2008

Horse Drawn

photo by Highlander

Suggested Prompt -

Tell me, what is the horse on the left thinking?
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The horse on the left is thinking about the barn. Horses are always thinking about the barn. That's where the term "barn sour" comes from--when horse goes sooooo slowly away from home, but as soon as you turn around and head back, he's dancing prancing skipping tripping to get back to the barn again. That's what the horse on the left is thinking. He's imagining himself with his harness off, rolling in some clean straw in his stall before he begins slowly munching some fresh alfalpha and a bit of rolled oats. Cuz y'know, once you geld them, they don't think about sex any more.
~ S. Kay Murphy
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One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This is a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE!

If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Joy of Running

photo by Highlander
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I take photos of everyone I know, every time I can.

I live in constant fear that when they are gone, they will exist only in my head as the feeling of them, their smell, their presence, their clothes, but I’ll forget their faces and their voices. Oh god, their voices....

I remember this beach, it wasn’t too hot but the sun was low and we had to squint, and I remember him running crazy, god was he crazy, trying to turn left and right at the same time as we threw his ball between us, his never ending battle with the seagulls who flew and laughed at him, then settled straight back down. He showered me in water and I couldn’t be angry, and we only stopped when my arm couldn’t throw anymore.

It’s a cliché, but he smelled of wet dog and he fell asleep the moment we got in, at my feet, and even when I was bursting, I held it in, ach, let the dog sleep.
We had to wash him to get the salt water out, and he wouldn’t get in the bath, oceans no bother, but baths – away with you, baths are scary.

He’s the reason I take photos now, to fill in that shadow shape of emotions with a single face.

~ Highlander




One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This is a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE!

If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Lighthouse at Sunset

Suggested Prompt -
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There is someone looking out the very top window.
What is his/her story?
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William had dreamed of this moment for years. Since serving in the Navy during the Second World War, lighthouses had held a special fascination for him. He saw the towers along shorelines from the water and wondered at the people who lived and worked in them. And, then last Christmas, his daughter, Anna, gave him a beautiful “coffee table book” on lighthouses. His imagination soared.
Taking his time and reading each entry in the book, William’s fingers had almost itched to grab up his car keys and head off for the nearest lighthouse. However, living in land-locked Utah, the trip to the West Coast – Oregon, to be exact – would be more than a short jaunt…and there was still Elaine to consider. As long as she clung so tenaciously to the slender thread of life, William’s life was also tied to their home in the Utah hills. He dared not dream too aggressively knowing that doing so might bring the force of God slamming down upon him for wishing that which was unthinkable.
God had other plans, however, and within the year, took Elaine back to Himself. William had long before decided he would liquidate their holdings upon Elaine’s death and give her portion to her heirs, then dissolve the trust and rewrite his own will to simplify things for Anna when he died. In the midst of Elaine’s last rites and dealing with her daughter and son, the lighthouse book lay forgotten on a dusty shelf in William’s small den. Six months it lay untouched, waiting patiently for William to rediscover its pages full of wonderful dream material.
On June 12th, Anna’s 50th birthday, William was searching for a different book Anna had given him several years before that she was now asking for to help her with a bit of research for a paper she was writing for her PhD in Biology. He found that book, then his hands reached for the lighthouse tome. Sitting in his most comfortable chair, he once again opened it and began dreaming again – this time in earnest. The phone rang.
“Dad? Did you find it?”
“Yup. Right where I thought it would be. Guess what else I found?”
“What?”
“That big book with all the pictures and information about lighthouses.”
“Oh, that’s a great book!”
“I’ll say. I’m startin’ to think about takin’ a trip out to Oregon. One of them lighthouses is particularly interesting. I’d like to see it for myself…before I’m too old or stove up to make the trip. Whadday think o’ that?”
“Can you make that drive by yourself?”
“I believe I’m up to it, yeah.”
“Well, then, go for it. You have a time in mind?”
“I was thinkin’ I might head out next week. Need to get a few things in order around here, but then there’s no reason I can’t take off.”
“Do it, Dad. Just call me from the road so I know you’re still in one piece. Okay?”
“I’d do that for sure. You don’t think I’m a crazy old man for wantin’ to do this?”
“Nah! Do it! Just stay in touch, is all I ask.”
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Now, looking out the window at the pounding surf far below, William could not believe his good fortune. Arriving at the small town of Pine Crest on the Oregon coast, he asked about the lighthouse and learned it was for sale. For sale! He visited the office that had it listed and found out the Coast Guard had decided to discontinue its use a couple years earlier and, after pulling out the critical operational components, put it on the market. Real estate was pretty depressed in this area of Oregon, however, and the lighthouse was a tough sell under good conditions. William asked to see it and was handed the keys and a map showing how to get there.
The walk up the circular stairs to the top had left him winded but he reckoned that making that trek every day would be good for him. And, the isolation was just what he was craving. He could feel himself drawing inward, wanting less and less interaction between himself and the rest of the world. His dream to live quietly beside the ocean was pulling him so strongly, he would not hesitate to write the check for the down payment when he returned the keys to the realtor.
Anna would come to visit him here between her teaching and travels. Anna’s son would bring his young wife and their newborn baby for Christmas here. He already knew just where the tree would go in the rustic living room of the small house beside the base of the tower. He could almost smell the savory turkey roasting in the oven of old stove in the small kitchen.
William saw himself, years from now, falling asleep in his bed in the tiny bedroom and not waking up, his Soul departing gently as the eternal waves continued to crash against the rocks below. It might take several days before Anna thought about calling him and even then she would not immediately be alarmed. William was known for his long hikes wherever he lived and here at the edge of the Pacific, walking along the surf would become his favorite pastime.
Maybe two or three days would pass before Anna’s level of concern rose sufficiently to call the local constabulary. By then, his corpse would already be starting its passage back to dust and cremation would be the final answer to that question. But, that was years down the road and in the meantime, William saw from another window, just the spot for his garden of tomatoes, potatoes, string beans, snap peas, and rhubarb.
by Lebhorcham
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One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This is a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE!

If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.

Monday, November 3, 2008

Quiet Lighting

photo by Highlander

Suggested Prompt -

Why are they meeting tonight?

Sunday, November 2, 2008

Looking Up

Photo by Hubby
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Suggested Prompt -


What is it the trees are whispering?
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Breathe deep
Walk slow
Take time
Know why.
~
Lebhorcham
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One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This is a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE!

If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.

Saturday, November 1, 2008

An Evening Out...

Suggested Prompt -

Are they celebrating or forgetting?
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They are celebrating. Celebrating everything they have been through together. Celebrating their endless friendship.
~ Jessica
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One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This is a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE!

If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.

For the Inspiring Photographers


Here at Pictures, Poetry & Prose we love to see a wide variety of photographic and artistic images that inspire the writers to write. If your photograph or art has been used for daily prompt you are invited to include this button on your blog.

You will need to right click on the above picture and save the .jpg to your computer, then you will simply go to your Blogger Layout Page (if you use another blog hosting site, sorry I am not sure of the exact steps)and add a Gadget, select "Picture" as your option and chose the "From you Computer" option, browse and pop in the picture you have saved. If you want to link to your picutre's post you will need the specific URL of that day's post (click on the title of your day's post and it will bring up the individual day's URL) and put that URL in the Link Area of the Gadget.

Yes, I am sure there are much more "techie" ways of doing this and if anyone wants to teach me... I am a more than happy student.

I Am a Writer


Here at Pictures, Poetry & Prose we love to encourage and inspire writing. We are honored you have offered up your writing here. If you have been inspired to offer your creativity to any prompt you are invited to include this button on your blog to celebrate that you are a writer.
You will need to right click on the above picture and save the .jpg to your computer, then you will simply go to your Blogger Layout Page (if you use another blog hosting site, sorry I am not sure of the exact steps) and add a Gadget, select "Picture" as your option and chose the "From you Computer" option, browse and pop in the picture you have saved. If you like to link back to Pictures, Poetry & Prose use this URL in the Link Area of the Gadget - http://picturespoetryprose.blogspot.com/.

Exceptional Writing Award



Here at Pictures, Poetry & Prose we love to recognize the exceptional use of language. If your writing has been selected and posted on a daily prompt for the Front Page you are invited to include this button on your blog.

You will need to right click on the above picture and save the .jpg to your computer, then you will simply go to your Blogger Layout Page (if you use another blog hosting site, sorry I am not sure of the exact steps)and add a Gadget, select "Picture" as your option and chose the "From you Computer" option, browse and pop in the picture you have saved. If you want to link to your Exceptional Writing post you will need the specific URL of that day's post (click on the title of your day's post and it will bring up the individual day's URL) and put that URL in the Link Area of the Gadget.

Yes, I am sure there are much more "techie" ways of doing this and if anyone wants to teach me... I am a more than happy student.