For visually challenged writers, the image shows a foggy day with the sun just emerging through the clouds. Emerging from the fog is a large castle.
Cold crisp winter calling, I feel you
Spring winds, blowing warm, I feel you
Summer sun, bacon burger frying outside, I feel you
Autumn leaves falling beneath the trees
Decaying fast, I feel you
Windswept rainy days, flood warnings, I feel you
Fog filled days, damp, moving, I feel you
Castle gates shut tight, I hear knocking
I feel the empty rooms, ghosts roaming, I feel you
Should I knock back, will they let me in
Keep me, feel me…
For visually challenged writers, the image shows an almost symmetrical brick folly with gothic style arched doorways at either side.
Roaming spirits are grateful
For the foolish notions of the living
If it were not so, they would have
Nowhere to rest, to live for a while
Those wonderful structures
With their arched windows
Give old memories a new lease of life
If you find a fallen leaf on your doorstep
You have been invited
to sit at their fire that night
They will allow
a small glimpse of their time
In the space you created
at the end of your garden
Where nature grows wild
You have one chance
to capture their image
Look for the space between
Where time ends…
For visually challenged writers, the image shows a puddle with leaves and trees reflected in the surface.
The reflected image holds my attention Longer than I had intended Time passing in a puddle of rainwater This could be my life looking back at me Slowly, with reflected thoughts I made my way home I could feel a new order taking over My life was about to change Pray God it is for the better…
Standing on a windswept cliff The colour of blue grey slate Remembering what I had forgotten to remember A time when I did not stand there alone. You were with me, blue eyes smiling Somewhere, there is a slice of sky missing. That was then, back when I had forgotten Memory brings back pain and pleasure Now I know that empty space is filled Because you have gone. A part of me walks beside you The sky weeps with remembering…
I approach the archway, puffed, ready to sit As I do, I know magic was born here The pond is still, a whispered voice calls, bring it back Bring what back I wonder, as much as I wonder who long ago may have walked down these steps Did they have royal blood? Did they drive magic away? I feel the grey stone walls around me Gently tapping my mind Think, what has been taken, Can you bring it back, keep magic alive? Don’t let the stories fade into the mist It placed here by the order of the dying King Without the sword the story fades, the magic dies Find it, bring it back, let magic live again…
For visually challenged writers, the image shows a stone stairwell with an opening obscured by a bright light.
I could see the shadow of a man In the light at the top of the stairs Calling me to him My name echoing soft inside my mind I could not move Fear held me at the bottom In the dark where I felt safe I wanted the light to go away The voice to be silent I am not ready to walk towards the light Yet my name had been called The fear surrounded me grew stronger…
For visually challenged writers, the image shows a single cow on a cobbled beach sipping from the water.
Daisy has been the odd one out from day one She became Jim’s favourite. Calling the cows in for milking, He would let her wander off to the river She loved the water Jim worried that she may fall in That age was catching up on her She could end up floating on the Hudson river Getting snapped by the paparazzi Finding herself on tv, letting her head get turned around Somehow, I knew that wouldn’t happen Daisy just loved the water…