Photo by Dan Felstead
______________________
Arriving home after the Midway Pacific Campaign....
Can they see me...are they looking out of the windows? They surely heard the greyhound stop out front. (Breathing deep)...my God its great to be back home on this solid earth...the death and destruction is behind me...I have to find a way to put that aside now.
Spike! Here boy...it's me! I can come back and pick up my duffel bag, come here boy...I'm on the ground to wrestle just like we used to do.
The blind...I saw movement...Sarah!
I'M H0ME...MY GOD
I'M HOME! Your
beautiful, I missed
you so much...It's
over Sarah...We
can start our life
again....Grace? Sill
asleep in bed? I'll
surprise her...No, I'm
fine...I'm ok......
I've always imagined what it was like that day that dad arrived home from the war. I was too young at the time to realize anything but the fact that my dad was back home. Even as young as I was, I remember the first thing my eyes saw as I wiped the sleep from them...looking at dad's face...so close to mine. Was I dreaming? No , it was true...dad was home.
With dad's passing last month, I will remember this as the most important day in the lives of three people on that September morning in 1942...never again separated after that day...mom, dad and me back together again.
Journal entry: July 31st, 2009
Grace
Dan Felstead
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.
Photo by Dan Felstead
Photo by Dan Felstead
____________________
And there was a truth that he could not accept in his heart. Feelings about to surface were choking him in his daily duties. Books and prayers could give no solace. His heart was enraptured from the first time he saw her hair free in the breeze.
septembermom
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.
Photo by Dan Felstead
_______________________
I stood looking across the field at the church and knew I had to hurry. Every one was already inside and the prayers and vows had certainly begun.
I flung back the old oak doors, "I object!" And they banged their arrpoval. Everyone turned to gape at me. The same people that had seen me grow up and looked at me every day of my life. Until four years ago when I'd left for the city. Today their gazes burned but I ignored them and stared staight ahead.
"We haven't quite gotten to that part Belle." Jack chuckled. He stepped down from the alter and started toward me. Behind him Jennifer shrieked and the guests muttered but he paid them no mind.
"Give me one good reason." He demanded, daring me. Taunting me. He though he could win, that he could get what he wanted and no one would ever step in his way.
"Because you're already married." I said as loud as I could. No one was more shocked than him, he had never belived I'd ever tell. But I couldn't let any one else suffer from my mistakes.
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.
Photo by Dan Felstead
________________________
"She has to be the most daring girl I've ever met," he thought to himself. His gaze travelled over her face. Her pouty lips were quivering with the hint of a smile. Almond shaped eyes sparkled with excitement and ... was that fear? Probably. If he was in her shoes, he'd be scared too.
What did she see in him, anyway? He was from the wrong side of the tracks. Everyone knew it. Her folks told her he was no good. Forbade her to see him, in fact.
Oh, he tried to make her see he was the wrong guy. Broke it off many times. Didn't call, didn't write. But she still came back. Caressing his face with her soft, delicate hand. Smiling at him, then gently kissing him. He could feel those soft lips, even now.
She believed in him. He wasn't sure she was right, but she never gave up on him. Not once. That meant something, didn't it? She believed in him and she made him believe in himself. God help him, he was head over heals in love with this woman. And by the look in her eyes right now, he knew she felt the same way. "You must be crazy," he muttered. "Probably," she whispered back, with a wink.
He held out his hand and she gently took it. Their fingers laced together in a familiar bond. His lopsided grin made her smile as they heard "We are gathered here today ..."
Crazy Mo
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.
Photo by Dan Felstead
________________________
The Burial of Terran
When the earth god Terran died, his children, Aqua and Gia, took his body and buried it in a great pit. They called on the dragons that lived in the centre of the earth and asked them to breathe their fire onto Terran, as a last act of respect. Then they visited the giants in the mountains that people call the spine of the world, and they asked the giants to carry enormous slabs of granite and basalt to Terran’s pit. When the stones had been laid over the tomb, trapping the heat of the dragons’ breath inside, Aqua and Gia waited. While they waited they sang, and their songs brought life out of the ground and their tears nourished the soil. When enough time had passed and the stones over their father’s grave had grown cool to the touch, the two faithful daughters removed them and dug into the dirt. Terran’s body was no more. It had transformed, with the heat and the pressure, into a luminous diamond. Aqua and Gia lifted the diamond from its resting place and brushed the black graphite from it with great care. Then, carrying it together, they went to the urn in their mother’s garden and placed the diamond inside. Safely ensconced in earth once more, the diamond started to glow with a golden light that shone through the sides of the urn and illuminated the garden. When their mother saw what they had done, she hugged her daughters. She stood in the soft light, her face transfixed with love.
‘Your father is with us again,’ she said.
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.
Photo by Dan Felstead
_______________________
He set the steaming cup of coffee down on the table, and then went back for the sweet roll. He placed it lovingly next to the coffee and took a seat across from it.
He looked around the little coffee shop that used to bustle with the sounds of talk and laughter, and sometimes held the seriousness of a couple deep in conversation.
Since he’d lost her that day, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to come here. It was all he could do to drag out of bed in the mornings. Two months. Two months of loss and tears, of emptiness, of a lock on the door of their lives.
He wasn’t sure when he turned the key in that lock this morning if he would be able to stand it. As he walked in, old habits unconsciously took over. Mindlessly, he mixed the flour, sugar, fresh fruit, and put it in the oven. As the coffee brewed, he unpacked the satchel he’d brought from home. Those things she loved; her things. Gently he placed them in the window where the light of day could shine on them.
The shop smelled of sweetness, and the deep roast of strong coffee. As he sat across from his offering to her, he thought he just might make it after all. Tomorrow he might even be able to turn the sign to open.
~shabby girl
Wow!!! Some wonderful and emotional writing for this evocative photograph. This has been on of my favorite prompts to date. Thank you to all who wrote here and to Dan as always for allowing me to share his talent.
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.
Photo by Dan Felstead
______________
James used to be a security guard until he was laid off of work 3 months ago. His wife gave birth to a beautiful healthy baby boy. Their first child.
James looks into his beautiful son's eyes and knows what he needs to do. He knows his family cannot sustain themselves with the meager unemployment checks he receives.
James wears his black tank top that has the words "Security" on the front. He takes his resumee and some business cards.
James walks the street and hands out his resumee and his card at every shop, restaurant, and business. He lets them know that he would be a great security guard for their business.
So far, no one is looking for a security guard. But that doesn't stop James. He has a little boy and a wife to take care of, and that thought keeps him going.
~ H.K.
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.
Photo by Dan Felstead
____________________________
clickety-clack
clickety-clack
This photo reminds me of the story I was told by my husband; whose father drove the train here in our town for years and years.
Before we were married, we would take long drives admiring nature and the wondrous world around us. One day, we came upon a body of water where there remained half of a railroad bridge. Ray told me that his father broke that bridge....
Apparently, there was a day when his father, driving the train, came to a horrendous stop. The bridge collapsed before them.
The train was not a carrier of passengers, but did carry the workers to each destination. I don't recall whether anyone was hurt or not but I do know my feeling as I looked at that half bridge remaining.
I have this feeling of knee-knocking fear when standing upon a bridge such as this. I can't imagine how his father must have felt that day, or each day there after as he approached these bodies of water on a bridge.
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.
Photo by Dan Felstead
_______________________
Now she sits on the curb
her face just as pale and gray as the city
that surrounds her
she glances up towards the neon ads
through the snow white petals
which fall on her hair
staring blankly through the yellow flashes
which quickly pass her by
and the dimly decorated people
without a glance to her slouched body
which sat on the dirty pavement
and stared
and reminded herself
this is not how i planned myself
so many years ago
she lost everything she ever had
even her mind and her dreams were taken
now she sits alone,
staring past the pale red awning
of the cart selling pretzels
then something catches her eye through the rushing cars
an orange peel
which had been blown to the gutter
opposite her
and it rocked in the gentle wind
waving at her
teasing her under the windows of the dimming buildings
a discarded orange peel
just as useless and insignificant as she
abandoned and trapped in the womb of this dark city
she felt a silent sense of harmony
with the object
and then the wind changed
and the orange peel turned
it rushed through the traffic to greet her worn shoe
where it sat
and rocked,
patting her comfortingly
and after she smiled down at it
she looked past the colorful city
to the sky
as she wondered to herself
since when did poetry
have to rhyme?
~ Cynthia
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.
Photo by Dan Felstead
__________________________________
As he walked through the fields, he thought of all the things he had wanted to say to her. His anger boiled inside him still unable to get out, unable to let itself be heard. As he looked up to the sky a flashing light painted it the colour of his wounded heart. As the thunder sounded he let his feelings burst out and he screamed, his voice mingling with the roaring of the storm.
~ Sullivan McPig
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.
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.
Photo by Dan Felstead
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.
Photo by Dan Felstead
______________________________
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.
