Lady Skylark - Be...
|An English bird from Robin Hood's land. A published poet, crafter & photographer with an unquenchable thirst for learning. AKA: Soaring Skylark. 🐦|
Within the SANCTUARY of their making,
And without thoughts of RESERVATION,
Not content with the SCENT of one another,
She stood naked before him,
Her long hair resting upon her breasts,
Forbidden fruit as full-bodied as a fine wine,
As he reached out to TOUCH her.
~ Soaring Skylark
HOW TO WRITE A BLITZ POEM:
It was created by Robert Keim and is a 50-line poem of short phrases and images.
Here are the rules:
- Line 1 should be one short phrase or image (like “build a boat”).
- Line 2 should be another short phrase or image using the same first word as the first word in Line 1 (something like “build a house”).
- Lines 3 and 4 should be short phrases or images using the last word of Line 2 as their first words (so Line 3 might be “house for sale” and Line 4 might be “house for rent”).
- Lines 5 and 6 should be short phrases or images using the last word of Line 4 as their first words, and so on until you’ve made it through 48 lines.
- Line 49 should be the last word...
'BREAST IN SUMMERTIME'
Cradled in his mother's arms
Cradled to her BREAST
Breast of LIFE
Breast of rosebud PINK
Pink as her son's cheek
Pink like candyfloss
Candyfloss and Granma's slippers
Candyfloss so sweet
Sweet on the tongue
Treats for the children
Treats all round
Round little tummies
Round little eyes
Eyes of blue
Eyes from Daddy
Daddy looks at his boy
Daddy loves his boy
Boy oh boy
Boy won't sleep
Soon they hope
Soon it will be morning
Morning has broken
Sunshine FLOWING through windows
Sunshine is smiling
Smiling and crawling
Smiling at Mummy
Mummy likes th...
Dear Lady Skylark - Becca🐦,
Your Skylark challenges are helping me a lot to become creative in my writing.
Whatever I post in the challenges are a result of some 15 to 20 minutes of thinking from my whole day.
I want to give more time to it but due to some reasons I cannot. But I enjoy writing for the challenges.....a lot!!
If possible (taking out time) then I will surely try to write a second part of the stories which I leave in suspense.
Thank you so much for such a creative platform. It is indeed helping me to believe that I can write.
Green trees sway to greet the morning,
Against bright sunshine and a sapphire sky,
Slate-grey clouds have said goodbye.
She loves to hear the blackbirds dawning.
Flames of orange tango in the grate,
Frosty fingers blue with cold,
Grip an offer of hot chocolate in a grateful hold.
She loves cuddles with her soulmate.
Tomorrow they predict more snow,
The brown fields will be white once more,
Draw the heavy curtains. Shut the door.
She loves feeling her rosy cheeks aglow.
Spring is now around the corner,
She look forward to drifts of yellow daffodils,
With the lushness of the distant hills.
She loves knowing it'll soon be warmer.
#SKYLARK CHALLENGE -
WHAT IS THE SKYLARK CHALLENGE?
A weekly writing prompt that usually includes 4 carefully chosen words and a photo - except on occasions when it's a special challenge, known as a #SKYLARK SPECTACULAR! - like when we celebrated our 2nd anniversary and I created a very special set of prompts - with prizes!! But this doesn't happen normally.
WHAT ARE THE RULES?
• Use ALL 4 words exactly as they are written, but in any order you wish
• Using the photo is optional (unless specified).
• Write in any style, about any topic; of any length and genre.
* Use an alternative photo if you want, and have fun! (Don't forgot to acknowledge the photographer thoug...
Isabel didn't want to die, she just wished the noises would stop. The voices - a rising crescendo of sounds, hurt her ears. She tried covering them with her hands pressed firmly to her head, but it did little to help.
Her parents argued often and over the silliest of things. Sometimes it would result in sniping or name calling, but today there was a full-blown argument. It made no sense to Isabel, like many things, but she recognised her name and knew it was about her again. She wished they would stop.
At times like this, Isabel found it helpful to stim - that was the word her teacher used to describe when Isabel flapped he...
THE COLOUR TURQUOISE
I have two very distinct memories of my paternal grandparents, and they are connected by the colour turquoise. It was The Seventies and the on-trend colour of the era was the shade of the Co-op supermarket's plastic carrier bag. Isn't it weird the strange and useless cluster one's brain stores?
The first memory was of their garden. I don't remember much about it, except that as a young child, it felt large. The was a path of paving slabs I think, that led to the left corner of the garden between the flower borders. I don't recall it in detail, but I half remember playing on their lawn.
In the far left corner was a beautiful bespoke summerhouse. ...
FROM NIGHT INTO LIGHT
A break in the clouds,
The hoot of an owl ,
The bark of a fox,
Glimpsing the moon it enshrouds.
The flash of a falling star,
Snatching a wish,
The call of a night jar!
Lunar rays light up the reservoir.
Dawn is approaching,
And so is the light,
The stars are now fading,
As day follows night.
A break in the clouds,
The sound of a lark,
The bark of a dog,
A beautiful day for a walk in the park.
- Soaring Skylark
At first the dreams were irregular - erratic even, but as time passed more and more was revealed.
It was similar to meeting any other stranger. There was a sense of acknowledgement without making eye contact, if you catch my drift. There was a difference between us, but it wasn't something tangible. No words were spoken, but we did have a common understanding. It is difficult to explain.
As the months passed, the visitations in my sleep became more stable. In fact, almost predictable. I would drift to sleep not knowing if tonight would be the night, but when it happened I was not altogether surprised by the appearance of my friend. By this time this is what I fe...
FROM WINTER INTO SPRING
A thousand snowflakes gather round me,
A shawl of heavenly stars,
Sparkling ice against a violet sky,
I see galaxies,
Glinting like fireflies,
Twirling and unfurling,
from Winter into Spring.
- Soaring Skylark
Her voice, as fragile as a blue day in April
Carries across the empty space between them
She sings of dreams and sunny places
He thinks of distance and emotional mazes
Open skies with a clouded moon
Lit by the fires of their youth
She believes they're DESTINED to be
Speaks of lust and truth
His HEARTBEAT beating out of sync
FLAMES of hope and longing
Fizzle into FRAGMENTS
Their love a dying star