Tag Archives: photo prompt

searching (troiku)

Sparrow-3
Photo Credits: Rakmil photography

seeking
in her reflection
answers

seeking
enlightenment
in liquid essence

in her reflection
a mirage, or –
reality

answers
locked in the prison
of her mind

© Tournesol’16/02/26

MindLoveMisery’sMenageris  ~ Photo challenge

the rendezvous (haibun)

MindLoveMiserysMenagerie

(shadorma)

rendezvous
merriment echoes
purity
of their love
savouring stolen moments
‘til they meet again

Every Wednesday, they met behind the gate like clandestine lovers. She would bring a picnic basket and he, a bottle of Merlot. She would often giggle like a young teen despite her sixty years in age. It was the only time she felt alive and filled with a sense of hope until her return home to care for her senile brother.

wind blows in her hair
blossoms fall softly on her cheek
from the plum tree

© Tournesol ’16/02/21

 

searching for clarity (haibun)

https://penntonic.wordpress.com/2015/02/10/creative-expressions-9-black-and-white/#comment-1974
© Pen ‘n Tonice Creative Expressions – School Chums

Géraldine rocked in her oak chair looking at the window. Clouds were hiding mountain peaks of Mont Tremblant.  She sighed glancing at the photograph on her lap. Papa was in the other room snoring loudly.  She found comfort in this sound. It meant she had peace and quiet for a few hours before he would awaken in his unpredictable rages. It spiralled if he’d taken a few swigs of his homemade Caribou.  He seemed to take to it more and more these days. He’d heat it over the woodstove.

La maudite poele à bois!  He still had not purchased an electric stove.  What fool still cooks on such appliances? Bien moi, c’est qui!  Her sisters ran off as soon as they could to la grande ville de St-Jérome for Estelle and Marie-Claude met a ski instructor and moved to Montréal.  They left her alone to care for Papa. They’d each promised on Maman’s deathbed to take care Papa but only Géraldine kept her promise.  “C’est ben trop tard pour moi, à c’heure.” She gave up hoping or caring.  She volunteered at Auberge Alys Robi, an old folk’s home and knew that was probably her calling.  The staff  invited her often to come work for them.

She sighed heavily, at least she had a place to go when Papa was no longer here.

Her rocking chair creaked as she searched for those mountain peaks still hidden in their fog.

Who am I?
looking at this image,
I get lost.

© Tournesol ’15

248 words

Written for Pen ‘n tonic Creative Expressions 

disenchanted virgin (haibun)

MindLoveMiserysMenagerie

Oh dear, she thought. Mother had to arrange this outing, now didn’t she? She looked at her second cousin, Emile Candiac in the photo with her blushing and pretending to be shy.  If only they knew she was turning red from rage.

I wish she would devote more of her time making Father happy, instead she finds it is her duty to make me miserable.  Well, I’ll hand to her, she has succeeded.

Can you imagine, how embarrassing this will be for me if word gets out at the sanatorium that I was escorted by Emile Candiac!  All of my colleagues had refused courtships by him. He’s the laughing stock of our neighbourhood, let alone le Sanatorium Alphone Genest.   Now I will be the joke of the town!  Me! a second year resident nurse! They will all think I am so pathetic that my mother runs my social life as well as my personal life! Jesus, Mary, Joseph, what next?  Will she order me to go to the New Year`s Eve ball with him as well?  I must feign illness. I must!!

Mother thinks that at the age of twenty, I will be an old spinster if I am not wed. I don’t want to be tied down like she was so young. Is it my fault she was without a grain of intelligence or logic marrying Father at fifteen years old, a man thirty years her senior!  Emile Candia is twenty years older than me and I am not interested in being courted or even considered for marriage with such dunce!  An old disgusting one at that!

I’ve been saving  from my meagre wages, to travel.  Maybe I could go with some of the girls to the States. We could take the train and head out to Newport, Vermont for a weekend. That would be nice.  I hear their fabric, especially cotton is of higher quality than in Canada and at reasonable costs.

Now how can I get the image of that disgusting photograph out of my mind?

meddling mothers

desperate bachelors

crestfallen maidens

© Tournesol ’15

MLMM Tale Weaver Prompt

Love is in the air (haibun)

© Kylli Sparrek

This was the second drought in three years and Father said he may have to sell the farm. Mother was up in arms since it was her father’s father’s father’s farm when they immigrated from Ireland. The winters here in Canada were cold particularly in St Jacobs and the summers were scorcher. Unlike the cooler summers in Ballybunion. Father would argue with Mother, “But Luv, we have to be reasonable! Your forefathers were wise enough to save their life savings and leave their land before the famine sucked them dry. Now we may just have to make a sage decision as well. Maybe it`s time to just settle with some cattle. There is always money in beef.” Mother was silent but her body clearly stated how upset she was with Father.

Ellie was not waiting any longer for Father`s decisions. She was leaving at the end of summer which wold give her ample time to help her parents move. They knew she had a “pen pal” from Toronto and although they had let her take the bus for a visit a few times, they had no idea of Ellie’s plans to leave St Jacob’s.

Lindsay was actually more than a casual friend; Ellie had fallen in love…fallen hard. She was eighteen, fresh out of high school and ready to explore the world. Lindsay had already signed a lease for an apartment for the two of them and they would both go to George Brown College to study Hospitality and Culinary Arts. She loved baking and Lindsay`s strength was in cooking. They had it all planned. They would work in posh restaurants for five years, save their money and open a B & B north of Toronto in the country. More and more city people were paying an arm and a leg for a weekend getaway outside the city along with fine dining.

She would wait until a week before moving to announce her plans, and avoid any scene she may see from Mother especially; she was pretty sure Father would also be “disappointed with his little princess.” She looked up at the sky and it was almost like a warning of the storm she was moving into. Once her mother and father realized Lindsay was a girl, Ellie was prepared for the worst …a cyclone for sure.

young love
seedling of promise
cicada sing

© Tournesol ’15

 Love is in Da Blog – Topic LOVE – Week 1

Mind Love Misery’s Menagerie – Photo Prompt

Falling from the sky (haibun)

© Wallpapervortex.com

In August during the hot air balloon festival in a neighbouring town, I would love watching dozens of balloons in the sky at dawn and just before sunset.  I saw fewer in the morning but so many late afternoons.   Behind our house was a vast field and it is said when the hot air balloon lands on the property, the owner of the balloon offers a bottle of Champaign to the owner. Unfortunately our backyard was not the vast and the balloons always landed outside the property line…darn!

pre-dusk skies
balloons landing in meadows
distract tomcat
mice escape their hunter
farmer Joe toasts with champagne.

© Tournesol ’15

CP Timeglass Challenge – Photo prompt

Harmony (haibun)

cool-surreal-paintings-13

Robert Dowling

She looked up at the sky and saw only grey clouds.  “Again, only grey poop on” she muttered.  That’s what she thought of those grey clouds…pooping on her life, her mood, her heart and her soul. There was no longer any light in her life.  She sighed, giving herself a bigger push to swing higher. “Maybe if I swing high enough, I’ll be able to kick one of those clouds and see rain that will wash away all the bleakness in this land.”

“Watch it, little one! You may fall and you sure as heck don’t want to fall way down there!!”squawked the black crow  above, settling on a dried up tree…no leaves, just branches..

Elaina looked up at her friend. He had become her friend in the past year.He had given her the idea to braid long strips of cotton to hang from the twig that was her only seat outside her birdcage.  She now had a swing which gave her a sense of freedom.

She had been disgusted by this huge black crow, at first when she was brought here by “him” but she realized over time, that Cornelius was a product of “his” master plan.  Anyone who defied him or tried to escape only fell into the den of désespérance or Des-Spa as Cornelius jokingly called it.  It was the bottomless pit that lay below…a sort of limbo but Elaina felt it was a hell created by “him”.

“I suppose you’re right, Cornelius, even if you are not a wise old owl,” she giggled and for a brief moment, the clouds separated and a hint of glow shone from the skies.  Whenever Elaina sang or laughed, this occurred.  But it never seemed to last more than 2 to 3 seconds.

Somehow, somewhere far above there was a positive force of goodness and beauty that was trying to communicate to Elaina. She felt it in the soles of her feet. Well, not really soles but she had been stripped of all her clothes.   She had made herself a make-shift dress from the veils that covered her cage/home and with the long strips leftover, braided it as per instructions from daring Cornelius.

“He” had stripped her of her clothes but had the decency to jail her in a veiled insulated cage she could use as bedding or blanket on cooler nights.  She didn’t mind sleeping without bedding.  She felt less trapped this way.  And Cornelius could keep her company when she was lonely and spread his wings to keep her warm on cooler nights. He always enjoyed her giggling and especially her singing in her soft soprano voice.  She sounded like an angel in a celestial choir.  Perhaps that is why the clouds separated briefly…maybe angels thought she was a lost sister.

Somehow she knew if she could sing long enough or the right harmony, the skies would be unlocked…finally breathe hope and compassion…she would just have to be patient.

The Celestial Order

patience unlocks skies

heavens unleash goodness

beauty of the soul.

© Cheryl-Lynn 2014/04/01

Written for MindLoveMiserysmenagerie Photo Challenge #15 – birdhouse

Killer Tree (Friday Fictioneers June 27, 2014)

Photo Prompt:  © Madison Woods

 

Simone went berry picking with her cousin who had been after her for a week.  She finally gave in. It had been the first time in five years  she had ventured into these woods. Nicole was nattering about mon oncle Ovid and his eccentric ways. Simone half listened, dodging gnats and wishing she were home with a good book. Suddenly she heard Nicole call out to her. “Look there’s a pond here. Viens vite!” Simone got to the other side of the bushes and stopped suddenly noticing the tree by the pond, where she’d lost her son.

© Cheryl-Lynn 2014/06/27

Written for: Friday Fictioneers June 27 2014, Photo prompt

 

Margueritte (shadorma)

Rock Garden

(Shadorma)

Margueritte!

enfin tu fleuris

en vigueur

en beauté

s’étirant le cou au ciel

parmi toutes ces roches.

*************

© Cheryl-Lynn 2014/04/05

*************

Oh Daisy!

at last, you’ve blossomed

in splendour

and in strength

stretching your neck to the sky

among all these rocks

Written for: MindLoveMiseryMisery – Shadorma Prompt #2