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.

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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.

Saturday, October 3, 2009

Direction


Photo by Simply Heather
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Suggested prompt...
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Use this wonderful photograph to inspire your writing today.
A poem about a direction, a story involving a weather vane,
a memory of traveling a certain direction...
just get creative with a direction.

8 comments:

morganna said...

Crashing round the eaves, bringing the raindrops
Whispering among the trees on a spring evening
Whence comes the wind?
The weather vane can say.

Bringer of lightning, harbinger of storm
Soft summer breezes ruffling the green leaves
Whence comes the wind?
The weather vane can say.

High above us all on the cupola
The black horse twists in place
Pointing the way.
Warning of summer storm, winter blizzard,
High above us all, faithful to duty.

cross-posted at Lizbeth's Garden

christine said...

The trainers were out in force last Spring, searching for a champion. One who could run like the wind, and jump like the cow, over the moon.

They found their champ and triained him well, his running excelled their expectation. So fleet of foot he was certain to win.

But the junping? Ah, that was another matter. Try as he might, his co-ordination let him down, and every time a hoof caught the rails, bringing down the rail and his owner's expectations.

He heard their lamentations, and vowed to do his best. He made a pact with the wind. He would play with him for ever, if he could just jump high enough to win.

The race day dawned. Our champion flew round the course and over each rail. His feet scarcely touched the ground. Proud owners and trainers patted his rump as he steamed.

That night, the wind blew hard, and claimed his promise. The champion leapt up into his embrace. Now he plays every day the wind blows. His revolutions there for all to see.

Champion for ever.

For blue skies. said...

I spend most of my time being lost.
Life always catches up with me when I'm looking in the other direction.

Monica Manning said...

Direction

"Are you lost, little one?"

"I feel like I am."

"You haven't lost your way, in as much as you simply haven't read the map."

"The directions are confusing. I don't understand them."

"Perhaps you would be better served to focus on the scenery, rather than the map."

"I did that, but now I'm afraid I took a wrong turn."

"There is no wrong turn."

"Are you sure?"

"Have you not seen that which you would have otherwise ignored?"

"I have seen love and hope."

"And have you learned nothing?"

"I have learned to trust and forgive."

"Then you are on the right path."

"Will you guide me when it's dark?"

"Always. And I will light a candle so you will find your way Home."

Stu Pidasso said...

How fickle these ill winds blow.

North to south, east to west, and back again another day.

The dust is enough to choke a person, deprive him of breath like a young lover in the heat of the moment.

Wild zephyrs that carry us away to places we have never seen, blow us here and there at their own whim.

Curse you vile gale for uprooting me and casting me upon the rocks of the unknown!

But, monstrous tempests are always followed by calms. Silent, still as a mouse moments, when all seems right and the tranquilty is comforting, for we know we have weathered the storm.

I await the end of my journey on this invisible carnival ride, and since I can not control my fate I will ride it like a bucking broncho, hat in hand, yawping like a dirt covered cowboy, just trying to hold on for eight measly seconds.

Henry David Thoreau Quotes said...

Nay, be a Columbus to whole new continents and worlds within you, opening new channels, not of trade, but of thought.
Henry David Thoreau

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