Thanks to Sue Vincent for this week’s #Writephoto prompt. Not done this in a while but glad to be back. So here goes: Wolf fur sky, Ink scratched branches reach From golden Fallow curves Where rays write green ligaments Into lead and white. Antonia Sara Zenkevitch
Our mothers’ mother
speaks within the ancestry
of bees and flowers.
a revolution in growing, cooking, packing a packet of crisps, who’d think it; a salty snack could save the world in small ways; solutions from re-thinking how crisps were packaged, no plastic, each compostable packet eco, logical, inside, taste, all natural, renewable energy supply, well grown ingredients from one locality blended…
Offer nectar to the wings,
Stalks direct the globe.
Where I was once in tranquil calm
Amid the greens, where waters flow
In long-lost summers’ timeless balm,
In soft repose, so long ago …
Peace love is not bought,
it is carried by our choice
to be the circle.
gateways of water no human knows their locks; lochs, clouds, creviced realms. Antonia Sara Zenkevitch
First, Majesty made sun and moon Equal luminaries, a sky to crown, Legend says Majesty spoke with the moon Who said no two could wear one crown, Majesty, some say, decreased the moon, The sun, it seemed, was left to wear the crown, Majesty, tales say, ministered to the moon By giving her…
(*trigger warning – depicts a dystopian future) Do not ask where the ancestors are in this great, lonely city, for they are all around. Do not ask where the guardians of this lone child are, for they are with her every step. They go before her and follow after. They raise her up though she…
Cunning threshold Where green inks Chiselled stone, Where whimsey Herself is enthroned, Her maidens inches from each path In imprints of each grown child’s laugh, A secret garden we may never know And so, we seek the inner world it fed; Fertile forests where thoughts are sown Into primordial seedbeds. Antonia Sara…