Ghostly shapes loom in and out

of the early morning mist

a smothering eerie silence

A dilapidated truck leans

drunkenly

shakes off its hangover

Its throaty roar

arouses

the dawn chorus

First sign of the work ahead

It’s a man’s job

He grasps his metal chain

Each link

holds tight the hopes

of his chainsaw gang

Each felled trunk

sawn down in its prime

hoisted

one by one to safety

As evening draws near

a pile of rounds

aged worn

in fine ringed detail

wait forlornly as the fog rolls in

For another dawn

another day

Open wounds, bleeding sap.

~~~

Words by Amanda Edwards  Images by Niki

We won the November Words/Photo challenge.

Yay! 

:)

This is my favourite rose.

It is called 'Erotica' and has the most gorgeous smell.

It was raining softly when I took this image yesterday.

Then thunder and lightening boomed and cracked and it bucketed down.

Quite spectacular until the kitchen box window leaked so much that it required several towels to mop it up.

Now the roses are ruined, all droopy and sad.

But everything else is beautiful and refreshed. I love that feeling.

And I'm quite relieved that I'd mowed all the lawns before it happened.

My peony has lost his petals.

I made some new friends today.

Chatty bunch ... I couldn't get a word in edgeways.

The Man's attempt at stopping the cats

sitting on the chair.

hehehe

Yes we laugh at him don't we, Henry.

:)

A wee sick buzzy.

I love how you can see her leg through the wing.

O speckled thrush

so cold, so stiff, so dead!

Your flame extinguished

a faded silhouette

a fly-blown curiosity

No glimmer of light

from your half-moon eye.

Stark contrast

to that sparkling beaded lace

an ethereal throw over nature's bed

A sticky, intricate snare

where Death awaits

upon his secret tight rope

Wraps his victims tenderly in silk

then sucks out all life

leaves just an empty husk.

Is this your fate

O speckled thrush

as you "push up the daisies?"

Heavens no!

You are surrounded by 

innocent 'Christ-children'*

damp with early morning tears

mourning your death

yet rejoicing in the dawning

of a new day ...

And look ... O look!

A tulip cup

ablaze with glory

Herald of spring and all

dappled, variegated things

toasts the heavens

feasts upon the rising sun

Shouts out its certainty -

Your death, speckled thrush

Is Nature's celebration

A new beginning ...

You have fulfilled your role

your purpose on earth

In God's eternal, circle of life.

Words by © Amanda Edwards 2013 

Images by Niki

* Daisies are known as 'Christ children' - with their innocence and purity and the word itself is Old English for 'day's eye' - referring to the beginning of each day, illustrated by the daisy closing its petals in the evening, and the first to open at dawn to greet the day. It also has its debut in the spring.

Getting overexcited with layers.

Not sure if I like it or not.

:)

My Henry
:)

passion