Day the eighteenth

Today the prompt is to consider life's small pleasures.


Recharge

To sit
To sit and stare across the water
Watching the light
Playing hide and seek with the hills
And the rain clouds
Teasing the trees
And dancing across the loch
To sit
Is to recharge.

Day the fourteenth

Today the prompt is a poem, poet or person that is your inspiration. My thoughts turn straightway to Edwin Muir . . .

The horses

The day the horses returned was the first day of normal rain.
That morning the clouds had foregathered in massed ranks
Of steel grey cushions, sky bound in wind-driven train,
A storm of nature's making, and we could give thanks.

Until this day the world had rained poison and dripped death,
Echoes of armageddon reverberated in each thunder clap,
And fear laced the raindrops, the wind's ice-sharded breath
Seemed to us, cowered in shelter, to be one more killing trap.

But once the radios were silent, and the ships had sailed on,
The skies slowly lightened, night brought the moon out and stars,
We slowly emerged in the tentative light of a revisiting sun
To walk once again on the land that in healing was ours.

And this day the clouds brought us rain and a promise
And in the evening the horses to join us in harness.

Day the eleventh

Today the prompt is the meaning of flowers.

On the third day

Each year you return,
Swallow-like,
And stand strong
Against the storm,
The wind, the rain.
Daffodil.
The real resurrection.

Day the tenth

Today the prompt is to write a hay(na)ku - I have decided to expand the form into a pseudo sonnet for our times:

Easter


long
hours of
holiday weekend traffic

today
we expect
no-one to come
but there are cars

sunshine
bathes the
landscape in soft
and rainless light and
tempts the hibernating into life

but there are less cars today
so perhaps people will stay away

Day the fifth

Today we are given twenty prompts but I have chosen just one - to write of the future, to make a prediction.


One day

And one day, when this is all over,
We shall sing together again;
We shall join our voices and drown out
The sound of raindrops on the parched ground.
And one day, when this is all over,
We shall meet and smile at each other;
We shall embrace our past and erase
The teardrop traces for a world in thrall
To the strident demands of power and
Money, and we shall reclaim this our land.