Fresh Start #photography #poetry

 

I breathe in fresh dawn of a new day

I look back upon the crisp winter morn

before my shovel through the snow it breaks

I can see where nature between winter’s thaw is torn

but I’ll choose the welcome Pacific spray

 

I wanted to share a Fresh opportunity to share your poetry for a project (that I am part of) that will benefit orphans of Ebola. If you write poetry have a look.

 

“FRESH” is This week’s WordPress Photo Challenge

Moving the Elements #NWCU #microfiction

fire can be moved with a subtle air…

Falling Sun

“I am air” the nymph proudly said to the lion after having her request refused.

“You can neither move me nor displace me. I am fire.”

“Ah we shall see.” the nymph smiled with a half wink

“We shall see…”

Nymphs (especially the air ones) have an uncanny ability to change shape and size.

“It is not a big blow but a small, elemental one required of this beast .” she giggled to herself.

A sleek feline entered the grassy meadow where a maned lion lay fast asleep. She circled first so that the silent air would carry her scent. stealthily she walked up to the beast and whispered “Catch me if you can”

She bounded off into the trees knowing when he caught her scent he would follow. She found another meadowy area and laid down. She rolled crunching the grass and making sure her scent was obvious. Before he arrived, she became a nymph once more and ascended into the trees to watch. He bounded toward the area and waited for her return. He seemed to look sad and displaced but soon roared and fell asleep.

The nymph was tickled but dared not disturb the beast.

“This tea party is the very best you’ve ever had.” all her guests exclaimed. The nymph agreed. The meadow was the perfect setting.

Smiling she thought “Air wins over fiery Mr Lion.”

In the breeze, a lioness returned to the meadow …

Photography “Falling Sun” L. Moon copyright 9/2012

This post is in response to  Natasha Head’s Wednesday Wake Up Call over at New World Creative Union.

Didn’t They Know… (Flash Fiction)

If she could breathe fresh air

maybe she’d be ok

If she could see sky

maybe she’d see another day

If only people realized

she needed something they couldn’t provide

Photo by Elena Lagana

*http://www.flickr.com/photos/29393867@N07/5017681445/

Every sunday we do a Flash Fiction in 160 characters with Monkey Man. Join us for the fun challenge.