Sue Vincent – Thursday photo prompt: Threshold #writephoto
Written in response to:
Thursday photo prompt: Threshold #writephoto
A Nonet poem
hidden away in cave of darkness
the afflicted, maimed, forgotten
enduring in the shadows
Mercy on threshold
Photo prompt March 26 to April 1, 2019
Written in response to prompt: What do you See? March 26/2019
A Nonet poem
Cathedral in my Heart
ceremonious within stone walls
wafting incense pray His Presence
glorify His Holy Name
Reena’s (Photo) Exploration prompt #74
Written in response to Reena’s prompt: Reena’s Exploration Challenge #74
A Nonet –
Darkness is an Illusion
darkness’ sensory exploration
elucidate the unseen.
Self within as without
above as below.
Pixabay image by Marianne Sopala
Written for: D. Wallace Peach at Myths of the Mirror
February’s Speculative Fiction Prompt: Photo Above
once upon a fluffy snowflake day
a symphony of squeaky mice
thrown from a brisk vibration
all amass in a heap
there in the window
Fair angel awake in the meadow
Detecting a sense of sorrow
Feathering a golden dawn
Behold angel’s blessings
©Hélène Vaillant – (Nonet poetry form)
#Haikai Challenge #65 (12/15/18): Solstice II #haiku #senryu #haibun #tanka #haiga #renga
Written for: What do you See? Challenge prompt – Photo above
Obsolete (Nonet Poetry form)
forgotten, bare of accessories
frozen solid telephone booth
creaking in the winter wind
When I was a little girl playing with friends, we would strip clean two empty cans. With a long string of rope, we’d move the hollow cans away from each other as far as the rope would go. This was our walkie-talkies. Surely you have heard of walkie talkies?
At my house, a huge black telephone rested on a table in the hallway. A fat wire from the telephone reached into the wall. This telephone was for adults. If ever I picked up the handle from its cradle I could hear voices in there. Mom said we had a party line. Surely you have heard of a party line?
You needed to know your numbers if you were going to use an adult telephone. It was difficult to get it right the first time. My finger would slip out of the rotary thingie or it got stuck in it. I’d get a wrong number.
Teenagers need privacy right? I would take the black telephone into the hall closet, close the door behind me. ( the wire kept a slight opening at the door – without a doubt, an older brother was listening on the other side of the door)
At the convent, I loved the pay telephone booths. I could call my boyfriend in total privacy. Today I believe that the nuns had a system to listen in on those calls.
Fast forward…. are our calls ever private?