Haven #writephoto #SueVincent

Here is my contribution to Sue Vincent’s weekly #writephoto prompt:

january-hol-2016-004-2
Photo Credit: Sue Vincent

 

She couldn’t take her eyes off the light. How it bent to the west, as though in wait. The land of dreams poured a backdrop of violet over gold beckoning the flame covered in glass. Too soon it would be cloaked in darkness, and she would lie in bed and await the demons. They always came in search of the light within. Dressed in red or black, they hovered in wait over her body as it drifted toward sleep.

 When you close your eyes, you can see.

Always she resisted the urge to open. It didn’t matter why she had been chosen. What mattered was that she didn’t fall asleep. Like the false light outside, she knew she must contain the light within. And so each night, before she found rest, she became the sun. The demons who came seeking her fire discovered the power of light. Driven by a desire to take, they lost everything before they became one.

 

If you would like to participate in Sue’s #writephoto challenge, please click here.

writephoto

 

Ebb #Writephoto #SueVincent

Here is my contribution to Sue Vincent’s weekly #Writephoto prompt. To participate in the challenge, please visit Sue’s blog.

Low tide in England
Photo Credit: Sue Vincent #writephoto

Ebb

The tide washed away her secrets
but she had more
Inside the membrane of her skin
she held an ocean of memories
Some of which were not hers
You can tell by the pattern of the waves
beating against the shoreline of self
what is trying to get out
Water erodes, but doesn’t erase
Fine lines become depressions
and sometimes life grows out of decay
when light is allowed to breathe into the darkness
That is when the green takes over
spreading out of the crevices of old wounds
to remind her of renewal
and the next wave cleansing
instead of drowning

Captured – #writephoto prompt

Once again I’m inspired by Sue Vincent’s photography and have participated in her #writephoto prompt writing challenge.  This time I decided to do a poem in the shape of an hourglass, but one could also look at as a chalice mirrored.

glaston6-044
Photo by Sue Vincent

A Love Story Captured

Only the stones know the true love story

how his fire softens as he falls into her body

to welcome the full beauty of her night

they chart the cycle of life

as a way to keep time

what you see

is but a mirror of what

you cannot see, below grass

life grows in darkness using the memory

of his light like a divine beacon in her heart

they birth green in the hour of spring