Tag: #writing photo challenge

The Promise We Must Be

Image courtesy of Sue Vincent
https://scvincent.com/2020/07/23/thursday-photo-prompt-darkness-writephoto/

Darkness gathers upon the horizon of our land:

A land we have loved with the lives of our sons and daughters,

A land we have bled for,

A land we have built upon golden ideals,

Shining as a beacon to other nations

 

But the darkness gathers upon the horizon of our land:

For which we have done things of shame and sin,

For we have killed our sisters and brothers

Of all different colors,

For we have kept others in chains of injustice

Because we saw others as less than.

 

And now the darkness gathers in our cities,

Creeping along the horizon of our land.                                                          

 

Now. Now is the time to carry that torch

Lifted above the water of a harbor

And see its light spread across our land.

We must be the promise

For which our daughters and sons died.

Driving out the darkness,

We must all be the promise of the dream—

Liberty and justice for all.

In Our Youth

Image Courtesy of SueVincent.com
https://scvincent.com/2020/07/16/thursday-photo-prompt-glisten-writephoto/

 

You glisten always.

Lighting no difference–

In pitch black even,

You glisten,

As if oiled

With diamonds.

My heart twisted, bent,

Burned by the prism

Of your light.

Leaden

image courtesy of scvincent.com
https://scvincent.com/2020/06/25/thursday-photo-prompt-silver-writephoto-2/

I can not begin to hold

the silver in the twilight air,

for it too quickly slips from my fingers.

My feet stuck in my quicksand thoughts

of moonlight shimmering on silvered hair

so, stop any step toward a silver chance,

Slipping away like silk as twilight

Fades into velvet night.

The Spider’s Life

Image from Sue Vincent Thursday Photo Prompt

https://scvincent.com/2020/05/21/thursday-photo-prompt-painted-writephoto/

This week’s prompt ~ Painted

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a rather oriental red bridge over a  pool covered with waterlilies and surrounded by trees.

She lived a painted life.

Careful with her brushes

Always touching up

A chip, a mark, a ragged flaw

As she found them.

If she found a rip or tear

In the precious canvas,

It just would not do,

But she would oh, so carefully

Apply the much-needed glue.

No.  Not a single person could tell.

Not a single person knew.

 

No one knew the time

And care and money

She spent on this

Carefully painted life–

Of verdant grasses,

Irises of every shade

Deepest purples

To palest pinks,

The lush canna lilies,

Fragrant gardenias and lilacs,

The splendor of magnolias,

The stately cedars.

 

Everyone speaks of a gentle stateliness,

In the air of her personal dress,

Her blonde locks, and her wounded blue eyes

As they looked out

Upon the careful paint of her garden lair,

A spider inspecting her web.

But her victims knew

Of every rip and tear

And all the rot beneath the paint.

For her victims lay silent, faint

Cocooned beneath

Many coats of paint.