She felt like a cat losing nine lives One by one slinking into night, Amid stark loss she realized She must enjoy her time While she had lives left To redefine, Savouring Breath like Wine. Antonia Sara Zenkevitch
Category: Uncategorized
Who knows? This one’s the wild card!
Photo prompt round-up: Fragrant #writephoto
Originally posted on Sue Vincent's Daily Echo:
* Pathways converging Travellers meet at the heart A single centre Lovers and the weary called To fragrant serenity * The photo for this week’s prompt was taken in the grounds of Waddesdon Manor on a beautiful summer’s day, when the rose garden was in bloom. The…
Time, Light and The Artist
…Time is our collaborator and our adversary as artists. Authors bend the passage of time in story arcs, suspense, and romantic timing. Comedians craft the pace of words and motion into jokes. Cinematographers and film directors focus our perceptions with the length of each shot, our mind lingering where the camera points. Painters decide where shadows fall. All art has its own relationship with the ticking clock and the Earth’s rotation around the sun….
Time Coats
February snow,
Crocuses and I make bold;
Time wears many coats
Of blossom, rays, rain, and ice,
Thus, my words will don them too.
Antonia Sara Zenkevitch
To Sweeten Bitter
Pain tasted bitter,
So, breath’s blades and sugar-canes
Spun honeyed braids of auric air.
The Scent of a Story
I’ve always found one of the best environments for telling stories is around a campfire. For me it is more than the images in the flickering flame; it’s the smell of woodsmoke and that hiss of resistance before the crackle as the fire leaps. Above us is the sight of stars, around us is the…
Bitter and Sweet
Bitter and sweet,
Zest, pith and pip,
The sun on my back,
The tang on my lips,
In wide blue horizons
I silently slip,
In old cobbled streets
Where kind strangers live,…
Experience (#writephoto)
Experience I will not speak about the greens Painting the sky with varied hues, I will not draw rose thorns To try to show you Or talk of the riot Of violets and blues, Quietly, I will close my eyes And experience this with you, Where you walk unseeing Yet surely between soft lines Of…
Dream Wash Multiplex
Dreams, like water-coloured paintings, wash away when days are raining on one Mary Poppins pavement on another London street, children play sticks along the railing in grey sleet, mascara eye streak. Antonia Sara Zenkevitch first two lines prompted by Reowr again art piece by the same name:
Calling All Poets, Thinkers, and Writers
‘Under ashen skies, unknown lullabies’
Where could we take the line together?
Antonia Sara Zenkevitch 