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Suggested prompt...
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Offer a poetic description of this scene.
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Thank you all for your well wishes and concerns. There was a bit of a crisis that needed my attention and took me away from sharing with you everyday. I am back now and will be posting daily again. ~ Laura Jayne
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Sunday Service
Still and quiet
Gray fog over gray waters
Little boats spot the quiet waters
Anchored harshly to the rocks
All is quiet
No voices are heard
No faces are seen
No one is on the moor today
A slight breeze ripples the water
Edging the little empty boats
Tilting slightly, inching slowly
Back and forth
In the distance
A bell tolls
Dani
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12 comments:
Laura...I am so glad to see you back again and my ...our...hopes are that things are better for you now and that all is well. Welcome back ...we were all worried.
Dan
Thank you so much Dan... and everyone... life sometimes provides challenges you were not expecting, but all is well now.
YAY! Laura Jayne, I'm so glad you're back and all's well! I hope the crisis is fully resolved- Happy to see you back! :)
Sunday Service
Still and quiet
Gray fog over gray waters
Little boats spot the quiet waters
Anchored harshly to the rocks
All is quiet
No voices are heard
No faces are seen
No one is on the moor today
A slight breeze ripples the water
Edging the little empty boats
Tilting slightly, inching slowly
Back and forth
In the distance
A bell tolls
Wow... Dani... this gave me goosebumps... well written... well captured.
@Dani: I got all goosebumpy too. Why does a bell tolling always imply dread?
@LJ: Dan is right, we were all worried. I'm so happy to see you back. Big hugs and kisses.
So happy to have you back LJ :)
I shall celebrate the occasion by actually writing for once!
An Old Man's Song To His Son
My baby's sleeping on one of those boats,
Kept warm by heavy sweaters and wool coats;
He rests on waters so calm and so still,
He dreams of the land in his father's will.
At this hour even seagulls are mute,
So the melody from my wooden flute
Bridges the distance that divides us here,
And carries the love of many a year.
But I'll be long gone before the sun wakes -
T'is the price I pay for youthful mistakes;
I loose one last lonely note of goodbye,
And pray that my son is smarter than I.
Good to see you back, Laura Jayne!
Awe- thanks for the nice comments. :)
Ripples so gentle,
Barely a breeze
Rocking the moorings.
Masts pierce the skyline,
Sails furled below,
Slumbering at anchor.
Ghostly reflections
Tremble beside
Hunkering sailboats.
Grey is the water,
Lilac the sky.
Morning is breaking.
The seaport sits desolate. The moon is on the horizon, opposite the sun. Morning is arriving yet tomorrow’s work seems distant. Ships nod on the waveless bay. Anchors sunk, tied down by tattered ropes and rusted chains. The vessels await their release.
The photo is a snapshot translucent of daily life. We sit as these vessels in the bays we’ve navigated anticipating a release. Shall we wait for the chain to rust or the rope to fray? Then we sit until the winds arrive and the currents carry us away. No direction.
Not today! Wake the captain! Raise the sails! The sea is awakening as the dawn is breaking. Today as the rest of the fleet drifts the anchor line, this ship shall set course and travel the seas.
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