Pale sun behind gossamer clouds Morning light fused in sleepy silver grey shrouding ancient stones in a cloak of mystery A pathway defining entry to a sacred site harboring history of centuries past Enticing, beckoning those who would surrender and dare to dance Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing © In response to Sue Vincent's Weekly Write/Photo Word Prompt Surrender - RDP Promote Yourself Monday - Go Dog Go Cafe
I wandered through
the forest
The moonlight
lighting my way
I came upon
a stationary horse
and I thought
I heard him neigh
He moved suddenly
hearing my approach
Turning to face me
I noticed the horn
This beautiful creature
moving elegantly
like a gazelle
was clearly a unicorn
I moved closer
in silence
wanting to touch
the mystical illusion
As I reached out
he disappeared
in an instant,
It was just a delusion
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©
In response to Sadje's What Do You See Photo Prompt
Word Prompts
Gazelle - Word of the Day
Stationary - RDP
In the perfect stillness
of this magical cave
our voices echo in semi darkness
throwing back the sound we gave
The light reflecting imagery
of perfect visual symmetry
We drift on mirrored pool
in silence but for our breath
The air heavy, dank and cool
Humidity smelling of death
Shivering with a feeling of fear
Wondering where to go from here
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©
Sadje's Weekly What Do You See?
Merril is hosting at D'Verse Poets tonight
and has prompted us with 'Echo'
When the forest floor
is bathed in moonlight
I wait between the trees
Soon you will come
Carefully and quietly
Moving with ease
In the stillness of the night
Your silhouette appears
In your hand I see a flower
My heart skips a beat
In the distance the village clock
strikes the midnight hour
How we like to play silly
tricks with our minds
Wishing for what we want to see
You disappear without a trace
A figment of my imagination
or a full moon lunacy
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©
Word Prompts:
Careful - Word of the Day
Silly - FOWC
Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay
You touched my life
with a stroke of a feather
A fleeting moment
in the moon shadow
that excited and tantalized
Luring me to you
like a moth to the flame
Singeing wings
burning desire
Now all that remains
is a feeling
A sensation that still tingles
A scratch
you can barely see
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©
Word Prompts:
Barely - WotD
Scratch - RDP
Grace is hosting at D'Verse Poets
for Open Link Night
The melodious sound
of instruments
broke the still night air
A soft rhythmic beat
appealing and seducing
daring to share
Like a moth to a flame
it lured and cajoled
with musical ingenuity
Lacking self-control
It was easy to be tempted
Succumbing to promiscuity
Heart racing
and adrenalin flowing
Caution thrown to the wind
The course uncharted
and on this whim
all hopes were pinned
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©
Mish is hosting D'Verse Poets
Open Link Night
Word Prompts
Melodious - WotD
Ingenuity - RDP
Chart - FOWC
Photo - Stephan Keller, Pixabay
A place for a clandestine encounter
or secrets hidden within its periphery
This wall could tell stories
of trysts, surreptitious meetings
Perhaps even some bewitchery
Traces of lichen and moss
Covering the ancient rocks
Underneath, romantic messages
left by star crossed lovers whose
footsteps are now covered with Phlox
The old gate bearing initials
Carved with high expectations
Yet thwarting courtship
blocking fate, destiny
and undying declarations
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©
Sue Vincent's Thursday Write/Photo
Forgotten
He ordered
the finest whisky
as he sat at the bar
and buried his head
The time had come
It would be a long night
Looming
He considered in dread
His clothes were ill fitting
They had seen better days
He looked disheveled
he knew, but couldn’t care
His thoughts on his purpose
As he nursed his drink
Focused
Avoiding the glare
Nine fifteen, his mark entered
the noisy bar
Full of swagger
and arrogance
He knew it was him
There was no question
Relaxed
He ignored the dissonance
Finding a seam in the throng
he worked his way through
Sliding onto the bench
next to his target
Pressing a gun
into the man’s side
he fired
Killing the devil incarnate
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©
In response to Jim Adams Prompt of “I Shot the Sheriff”
On Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie
Finest
Seam
Bench
Image by shauking from Pixabay
The land was calling
He could hear it
beckoning to his soul
Come, come it cried
Over and over
Echoing through the shoal
He followed the sounds
through the waters deep
until the beach he found
Where he shed his sealskin
taking on human form
and laid there on the ground
Breathless, resting on the sand
Looking skyward to the sun
Feeling the warmth of the glow
A shadow crossed his eyes
and he did see an outline
of a beautiful female torso
As he struggled to get up
the girl held out her hand
“Come with me”, she said
Mesmerized he complied
“You and I belong together
and we will surely wed”
He hid away his Selkie skin
in a place so secret
no one would ever look
He lived happily in human form
with his beautiful bride but
curiosity is all it took
She found his sealskin
one fateful day
in its hiding place
The legend came true
He did leave her there, alone
with her own good grace
The sea called him back
to where he did belong
leaving her broken-hearted
The Selkie returned
from whence he came
to the ocean uncharted
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©
Anmol is hosting DVerse Poets and has prompted us write about
myths or legends that we remember from childhood.
Click the link below for more information on the Selkie legend
The Secret History of the Hidden Selkie
National Poetry Writing Month
NaPoWriMo - April 24 - Day 24
Today's prompt - Today’s (optional) prompt is to write a poem that,
like “Dictionary Illustrations,” is inspired by a reference book.
They said,
“If the broom fits, ride it!”
And she did, of course
Controlling, fearless and fierce
Aware of all secrets
And what might be source
Gifted with calculating skills
And knowing where souls and
skeletons were concealed
She used information acquired
Holding feet to the fire
Shameful stories were revealed
Stopping one day
To take refreshment
From an offered chalice
It was poison she drank
That took her life
A death from obvious malice
Despised by her enemies
Loved by her followers
She was both target and idol
An illustrious force of nature
A hurricane in a sandstorm
No one could ever unbridle
RIP you crazy witch
and haunt us no more
It’s enough we have to see
A constant calling card
Your hat on a pole
When all we want is to be free
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©
In response to Sue Vincent's Thursday Prompt
Sign - Write/Photo
Word Prompt
Illustrious
Soul