Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein
They looked outside the window into
Yards and yards of yard,
And knew this house will be one where
All play will thrive unmarred.
The world that spread
For miles ahead
A guard for
Childhood’s boulevard.
For the Tuesday Photo Challenge: Yard
Photo: Na’ama Yehuda
The light on blue-gray water
Waves a landing strip
To bless an incoming flight.
For Becky’s January Squares: Flight
For Terri’s Sunday Stills: Gray
“So nice of them to give us ice-cream!” Sheri grinned. It was her favorite brand, too. On a plane! How fun!
“Even people on death row get a last meal.”
She elbowed him. Her friends said Robert was a party-popper. A fuddy-duddy, spoil sport, malcontent. Sometimes she wondered if they were right. Her husband did have a way of deflating. She felt bad for him. Life must be so gray, to experience life his way.
“Well, I’m going to enjoy mine,” she announced, infusing extra-cheer into her voice. “If it’s my last course, I’ll be halfway up to heaven already.”
For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers
(Note: Thank you, Rochelle for using my potentially boring 16 hour direct flight photo from JFK to Hong-Kong from the summer before last … While this is not an ad, the ice-cream sure was a comfort … 🙂 )
“We’ll never all fit,” Sultana groaned.
“Lots of room!” the driver boomed encouragement even as he tightened screws underneath the van.
“C’mon!” Mariam elbowed past her cousin and climbed onto the vehicle, parcels and a flapping hen in hand. “Next one isn’t till dawn.”
Sultana looked around as if better conveyance would miraculously manifest. None did. She sighed, grabbed her packages and hoisted the bleating kid under an arm. She squeezed aboard, the last one on, with barely room enough to sit down.
The door slammed. The goat peed, soaking her lap.
It’ll be a long ride to Jaddati’s farm.
For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers
Photo: Na’ama Yehuda
The gray marble
Supports
With leisured rich
Array
The carved squares
And the luxuriating
Pebbled
Head in
Golden display.
Note: The photo was taken at Wat Pho, The Temple of the Reclining Buddha, in Bangkok, Thailand. The pebbled bits represent a small part of the ‘hair’ of the massive Buddha statue. The textures and contrasts of the surfaces were what caught my eye and so the angle of the photo is deliberately ambiguous.
For Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: Textures
Photo: Na’ama Yehuda
As they fly
Passing by
Tumbling through
Loops of sky
To hoot and cry,
They spend the day
Waving high
To Earth defy
As some shake heads
Oh my, oh my
And wonder why…
Photo: Na’ama Yehuda
Note: These photos are from Canada’s “Wonderland” amusement park in Vaughn, where my family spent a day this past July, high flying and earth-defying while I mostly did the photo-taking and oh-my-why’ing. … 😉 (In the photo above, they are in the three short horizontal lines in free fall on the vertical line, a moment before being turned upside down and sideways and goodness knows what else). It was a delightful day all around (pun?) till I got on one kiddie ride in the afternoon … Now, if you’re into these contraptions, that place is an all out-human-milkshake inventive park, just be warned and don’t be fooled by the miniature height requirements: they start them early and loop-di-doop-whoop-loop even those rides meant for preschoolers. …
For the Tuesday Photo Challenge: Tourism
For Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: Circles, curves and arches
Photo: Na’ama Yehuda
Framed by
Turquoise water,
Aligned by
Mountains
And turf.
Next in line
For takeoff,
Ere the last leg
To Thailand
And loved ones
And surf.
For the Sunday Stills Photo Challenge: Lines and squares
Green Gardens trail in Gros Morne National Park, NL (Timothy Holmes on Unsplash)
They’d come to Gros Morne every summer. On “Dad Week.” Camp in a tent that always leaked but Dad wouldn’t replace, every patch and glued seam a map of reminiscing. They’d spend days on the meadows, walk the volcanic beach, go down to Old Man’s Cove.
Sal loved all of it. Even the chill and wet and constant hunger (for there was always more Dad aspired to catch than what he’d actually manage to). Sal never complained. He’d give up everything to breathe the ocean and make up stories about pirates in the coves. He’d even downplay the painful rash and sneezing (they never did find which wild-flower he was allergic to, and he didn’t want to, afraid Mom would say he couldn’t go).
Erosion closed his favorite trail, but not his memories.
He gazed at the ocean and wondered if Dad, whose mind was fading, still had his.
For What Pegman Saw: Newfoundland & Labrador, Canada
Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein
Undulating trip
On triangular
Height
Soon reaching top speed
In centrifugal
Flight.
For One Word Sunday: Triangles
Photo: Adi Rozen-Zvi
Life without
Possibility
Of parole.
Robbed of
Freedom.
Wingspan clipped
To the lock
At the end of
A chain
Of events.
Imprisoned
Without fault
But the adversity
And sorrow
Of its birth.
For the Tuesday Photo Challenge: Lock
tucked away in the mountains
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