When a seamstress loses the thread, she becomes thorny: stitches tighten in her gut and snakes breed in her very soul, notwithstanding itches in her fingers from tiny hollow hairs, steeped in a poison that bewitches and catches her unawares. All fingers and thumbs, and nettled by unforeseen hitches, she waits for serenity and calm. […]
Tag: Flash 55
Birds of Gods and Kings
in a black and white blur their scimitar wings soar they vent their haunting hunting call circling high in the sky with sharp falcon eyes tail feathers clenched before the fall gauntlets of leather and jesses to tether hoods and bells that ring legendary birds untameable with words they answer only to gods and kings […]
The Point of Return
pristine pages of possibility flutter out the window into the sky fragile words on wings of air hovering ready to fall […]
Mothspell
I wander in the standing stones, gather objects for potions: hemlock parts and gossamer, eye of toad and an owl’s feather. A celestial light show sparks and suddenly, without a flutter, a moth is trapped in a halo of moonlight and I am rapt; lured by a death head’s powdered pinion – a fatal attraction. […]
The Thylacine’s Lament
They alliterated me, called me the Tasmanian Tiger, me, a marsupial. They think they obliterated me, but here I am, lurking in the murky shadows between sorrow and laughter, cowering in sun burnt woods. I only come out at night, and you are waiting to find out if my bark is worse than my bite. […]
Jessie
Jessie was a teacher when a camera changed her life: while traditional women were content with being wives, she used her sharp eye and ability to hustle, ignoring constraints of corset and bustle, to seek the newsworthy and documentary. Instead of portraits of well-bred young women, she photographed a murder trial, slums and local prison. […]
Locked
Padlocked by passion, she worshipped no more relics, gathered no hair, brewed no potions, no more rituals or spells, no wax figures, no toads stuck with thorns – just a love lock carved with initials, a symbol of fidelity and, thrown into the depths of the river, the key: heavy metal to weigh down hopeless […]
Fifty Five
My fifty-fifth long ago disappeared In the rear-view mirror. Another birthday looms mirrorless – unless I can find a looking-glass that zooms in and out, magnifies my cuckoo soul, the one with the glow, gorgeous and free of blemishes. Old age crosses the road slowly, turning to smile knowingly, making me wait at life’s crossing. […]
And is there news?
My response to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Flash 55 PLUS! Where the challenge is to write a piece of poetry or prose in precisely 55 WORDS. The PLUS! is an invitation to reflect on the Battle of the Somme. They staggered across no-man’s land, Tattered remnants Returning to mud-filled trenches After shifting and ducking bullets […]
Miranda’s Tempest in 55 words
I have rewritten my Tempest in 400 Characters for this response to imaginary garden with real toads Flash 55 PLUS Life with Prospero, Surrounded by sea, Since I was three, It was a dream, Then a nightmare At the hands Of Caliban. Stormy waves, Turbulent heart, When father by his art Put the ocean […]
writing in north norfolk 