Gloss
Surfaces
are what we see
rain glanced, and street
lights, traffic lights, sing under them, tell
me! Green
or red?
-Dave Garbutt
Author: The Wombwell Rainbow
“Created Responses To This Day” Sunil Sharma responds to one of my This Day images. I would love to feature your responses too.
The world is
full of colours,
provided the
viewer registers
the divine
display
and,
like
an involved
stage actor
becomes integrated
with the mise-en-scene
for an excited
Elizabethan audience.
Text/s. Actor/s.
Scene/s. Spectators:
Seamlessly one:
Sublime action!
-Sunil Sharma
#CloudWriter #Cloudshapes. Day Twenty-Four. What shapes can you see? What stories are developing in these cloud photos by Julian Day, Gaynor Kane and I? You may contribute your own cloud photos and/or videos as inspiration. Writers and artworkers have been fascinated by clouds and what they see in them for centuries. This challenge features three different cloud shapes a day for thirty days. You may respond to one, two or all three photos. Could you write on the day you saw the photos and email your drafts to me, with a short, third person bio?
JD24
KANE24
PB24
Cloudshapes day 23
Inspired by all three photos, you can see them here on Paul Brookes’ blog.
Cloudpools
Whirlpools in the sky
of dragon-feathers and bird-scales
the clotted shadows of sea fret
midnight-dark
turn with the constellations
glittering in the unsounded depths
of black space
reflected in still water
all anger stripped away.
“Created Responses To This Day” Photos. Dave Garbutt responds to one of my This Day images. I would love to feature your responses too.
Come and see the World open itself
“Mr Dockray has found them in Autumn crammed with blackberries which they had doubtless gathered on the edges of ponds and ditches”
British Birds, TA Coward, series 2, pg 47, Warne & Co, London, 1920.
We feed a lot, we ducks, we sleep a lot, we ducks
But, we are not ‘ducks’ but Wigeon.
We are waiting for those who who say “Duck!”,
who say “Mallard”, to look
at our round heads, soft faces and blue-grey fine duckish beaks
we, with our whistles and our flocks cropping grass,
are waiting to be distinguished, seen.
We are waiting for March to wing in moonlight
across the Dogger sea back to our summer ponds and rivers
where we are known as markers of spring
pond possessors of March
whistlers by day and dark
yellow-crowned hope of midsummer
haapana
(haapana is Finnish for Widgeon)
-Dave Garbutt
CloudWriter #Cloudshapes. Day Twenty-Three. What shapes can you see? What stories are developing in these cloud photos by Julian Day, Gaynor Kane and I? You may contribute your own cloud photos and/or videos as inspiration. Writers and artworkers have been fascinated by clouds and what they see in them for centuries. This challenge features three different cloud shapes a day for thirty days. You may respond to one, two or all three photos. Could you write on the day you saw the photos and email your drafts to me, with a short, third person bio?
KANE23
JD23
PB23
Four Poems – Gerry Stewart
Reaping
A little distance between our skin
is allowed as we walk the pumpkin rows.
The rain’s pattering calls us out,
a murmuring distraction.
Soil clogs our boots,
carrying its own dank perfume
of leaves frost-wilted
and soft decay where rind meets earth.
We thump shells and pinch stems,
judging their bitter ripeness.
A longing to return to a warmer past
pulls against our shoulders,
each step a weighty glance back.
The drizzle slows and we retreat
to the firepit’s shelter.
Cindered remains scraped together,
embers singeing our faces and knees.
Makkara* skins sizzling, pop open,
warm breaths released.
We burn tongues in our haste,
juices dripping down wrists.
Marshmallows toasted brown
then, we hesitate too long,
burnt to sugary charcoal.
It’s easier when we say nothing,
lick sticky fingers and listen
to the fire’s crackling retort.
Closed off in the car,
wood smoke lingers on wool.
It’s a slow…
View original post 364 more words
Cloudshapes day 22
This is based on all three photos. You can see them on Paul’s blog here.
If
If the sun is fire
and clouds are ash
what is the blue?
Mirror, illusion, a wish?
Skyscape always in motion,
tracked and driven
by the winds of the world,
trawled, not by the finger of God,
but by veils of cormorants,
grey herons,
white egret drifts,
through reds and blues
and into night.
Guest Feature – Joy Wood
It is a delight to invite my lovely friend and talented author, Joy Wood, back to Patricia’s Pen. Congratulations to Joy on the launch of her brand new novel Secrets and Lies. Joy has come along to tell my readers a little about it. Without further ado it’s over to Joy.
Writing is my Passion
Joy Wood
Writing books is the “easy” bit – I come up with a story but then need to make it desirable for my readers. Fortunately, I’m surrounded by people who want me to succeed, including my brilliant, insightful editor, and talented cover designer.
I strive with each novel to create a narrative that invites the reader into a captivating, engaging and menacing world. My previous five independently published books fall into the crime category and use twists and turns to keep the reader turning the pages well into the night.
My…
View original post 294 more words
#CloudWriter #Cloudshapes. Day Twenty-Two. What shapes can you see? What stories are developing in these cloud photos by Julian Day, Gaynor Kane and I? You may contribute your own cloud photos and/or videos as inspiration. Writers and artworkers have been fascinated by clouds and what they see in them for centuries. This challenge features three different cloud shapes a day for thirty days. You may respond to one, two or all three photos. Could you write on the day you saw the photos and email your drafts to me, with a short, third person bio?
JD22
KANE22
PB22
The Wombwell Rainbow 