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You are encouraged to participate in any way that is meaningful to you.

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

Sunday, January 25, 2009

K - Sunday's Alphabet Prompt

Photo by Highlander
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Suggested prompt...
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King is in the castle.
Write a story for him.



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My feet step upon this aging stone night after night, and becomes my prison. Those that look up to me feel as though I have all that I need, but what I want more than anything is to be free. To walk among them and feel the warmth of their soil, their somber company, share at their table, to feel their pain, so that I might return one day and become the ruler through his people, and bare their passion for life and truly know how to fulfill their needs as people, but here I sit upon this hill and know nothing but the loneliness of a birth right and wealth they cannot imagine could bring down these walls one day...

~
Chef E



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8 comments:

Crafty Green Poet said...

a king would he be? The man who wants an independent nation by selling off our land to wealthy foreigners? The castle is full of rusting armour and antiquated firearms, not enough to defend ourselves against his betrayals. In the chapel, the castle guardian snores.

(explanatory note: The Scottish Government is allowing Donald Trump to build a golf course complex on a sensitive area of natural beauty and is currently trying to sell off the national forests too)

Rachel Green said...

I disagree with them selling it off. Although he would then be responsible for the upkeep of the 200 acres I can see his Golf course 'needing' a hotel or three.

Unknown said...

Cursed that this lonely title be mine
That I may walk through the halls of my 'line
To see gentle knights and toiling serfs
Below my castle, down on the Earth.
To be King is to be God, and a God a King
And all the world looks upon me and sings
I cannot show this weakness that dwells in my heart
For it is so lonely here, at the top...

Sacha van Straten said...

Kingdom of air
Floating over the fire scorched earth.
Your castle of kinship
Bonds us to this night,
When all shall sing of freedom
To the sun wrenched skies.
And we will greet the coming
Of the newborn,
A herald of deliverance,
Bow down and worship him,
Our saviour,
Our king.

Anonymous said...

The old woman sighed and settled herself on a chair even more creaky than she was. It had been a long walk from the village up the hill, but they made it. Her young companion was anything but tired. If anything the old power and engergy that had roamed these halls flowed into him. Running from once side of the entrance hall to the other he was filling up his head with questions. He stopped to glance at the old woman who'd run, just as energetically, through these halls many many years gone by. He'd let his guide catch his breath, he decided, before she drew upon it for answers.

CDB said...

There once was a mighty fine King
A match for which nobody could sing
Daily he sat
Upon his fur mat
For this kitten did not do a thing.

Heather said...

Oh, my King,

I long to be at your feet;
to touch your skin and feel your embrace.

I desire to feel your breathe;
to touch your lips as they speak to my heart.

I petition you, my King;
to grant me for a tiny moment,
a second of your time.

I shall relish in your majesty;
to be surrounded by your glory,
if only for a second of your time.

I devote my life for your beckoning, oh King;
to use me as You will, for Your purpose.

Oh, my King, look upon me
as you shall see how I
hunger and thirst for your attention.

I am fascinated by you.
I crave your companionship.
I aspire to be all that you see of me to be.
I am your servant, oh King.

My love is complete in You,
call upon me now.
I wait for your word.

With great anticipation,
Your servant awaits.

~ Simply Heather

Chef E said...

My feet step upon this aging stone night after night, and becomes my prison. Those that look up to me feel as though I have all that I need, but what I want more than anything is to be free. To walk among them and feel the warmth of their soil, their somber company, share at their table, to feel their pain, so that I might return one day and become the ruler through his people, and bare their passion for life and truly know how to fulfill their needs as people, but here I sit upon this hill and know nothing but the loneliness of a birth right and wealth they cannot imagine could bring down these walls one day...