Peggy prompts us at the Imaginary Garden

Peggy's prompt is somewhat unusual. She posted two photos at The Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, and asked us to write about one or both of them.
That's all. No other instructions.

Photo "African Shoes" by Peggy Goetz

the shoes were old now:

the colours faded,

the sides bending,

the back coming loose on one.

but she loved the shoes

her husband bought her

when they were young:

they’re such bright colours, he said,

bright, happy like you

when you smile at me

with your warm eyes

and I smile right back at you,

my heart full of pride

and happiness

and love just for

our being here together.

the shoes were old now:

the colours faded

but she wore them

so she would never forget.

Kay Davies, November, 2013                                       

Colours change with time change

Richard Schear photos, with Lindy's help

No wonder our dog Lindy is only now starting to adjust to the change from Daylight Saving Time to Standard Time here in southeastern Alberta.
We humans don't really notice the subtle changes in colour until we see them in photos like these.
Both sets of photos were taken at 4:30pm, the first two on November 1 by the light of the low-slanting sun, the second two on November 4, as the sun began setting and the light turned pink. Lindy is always happy to see deer. Her distance vision is still good, and as soon as she sees them move, she wants to join them.

Posted for Our World Tuesday

November 11, 2013, Remember

I am re-posting, with very slight changes, a poem I once wrote for Fireblossom Friday here at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.
It is about my mother's cousin Henry Hector MacKenzie, Jr., of the Royal Canadian Air Force, whose plane was shot down over France in 1944.
He was 24 years old.

Many years later, the MacKenzie family learned that parts of Harry's plane had been found. We also learned that there are people in France almost 70 years after World War II who are still looking for such wreckage, so that they can let families know about our boys who liberated France.

With the guns and drums, and drums and guns, Harry,

Where are your eyes that looked so mild, Harry?

You died in your plane north of Paree

Ninety miles inland from the sea

Harry, I never knew o' ye.

*

Five brave Frenchmen, they found your plane, Harry,

When you’d been buried sixty years, Harry,

When you’d been buried sixty years,

They found your plane and cried real tears,

Though, Harry, they never knew ye.

*

Those brave Frenchmen, they did not rest, Harry,

’Til with your plane they’d done their best, Harry,

They polished the engine ’til it shone

In that small town of Sacy-le-Grand,

As if, Harry, they knew ye.

H.H. MacKenzie, Jr. (Harry), 1920-1944

Mini-micro-fiction for Monday at Grandma's

"How low can you go?" asks Grandma for the weekly Succinctly Yours challenge at her blog, Grandma's Goulash.

Picture provided as prompt

This photo was provided to prompt our creative endeavours, and the word of the week has been revealed to be aptitude.
Participants are given a choice: write a short story of 140 words or less, or a short-short story of 140 characters or less (including spaces and punctuation). There are no extra points for using the word of the week. As a matter of  fact, there are no points for anything at all, "but each for the joy of the working..." etc.

My effort consists of 134 characters, including spaces, punctuation, and the word of the week.


The men were glad at least one woman had come along. The dogs were only interested in the fish, and had no aptitude for doing laundry.

Grace has us meet artist Mike Worrall

www.mikeworrall.com  see also
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Las_Meninas

At the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads this weekend, Grace (aka Heaven) has introduced to us the Australian artist Mike Worrall and his paintings. A first glance might have us think he has taken all his inspiration from painters of the past, and this is true for some of his work, but not all, according to Worrall.

www.mikeworrall.com

Grace has asked us to take inspiration from Worrall's work to produce a poem of less than 250 words. In my short poem, I have chosen to look into the artist's inspiration as he has explained it, and as Grace has explained it to us.

committed, says he,

to exploring

Bridge of Folly, by Mike Worrall
presented as prompt

the subconscious,

for unconscious reasons

he can’t understand...

intuition leads him

through labyrinths

and mazes,

through street scenes

and hazes,

through waterfalls,

across bridges,

www.mikeworrall.com

forests of dreams

and dreams of forests,

from theatre

to celluloid,

from times long ago

to times yet to come...

 Kay Davies, November, 2013

Camera Critters & Pet Pride: the deerstalker

Photos by Richard Schear, 2013

Lindy used to spot deer in the distance long before her photographer/daddy saw them. Now she has cataracts on her eyes, and has no peripheral vision or close vision. However, she can still catch movement in the distance, and she is still excited to see deer. When she and her daddy were out at sunset one night this week, she saw them and wanted to run with them.

Posted for
Camera Critters
hosted by Misty Dawn. Thanks, Misty!
and for
Pet Pride
hosted by Lindy's friend Bozo and his family at their Pets Forever blog in Mumbai, India. (Link to be added soon.)

Mexican Radio man at Real Toads

"A penny for your thoughts" says Corey (aka Herotomost) at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads today. A penny for our thoughts, provided our thoughts are about him, he goes on to specify.
Then he gave us a "just kidding" syllable count of 2324459877678765. A red flag in front of the proverbial bull, Corey m'dear. You should know that. Don't dare to dare me.

I always try to have my own poem written for Real Toads before I read the work of any of the others. This is partly to keep me from being distracted by someone else's point of view, and partly to protect my all-too-fragile ego from undergoing what it underwent today when I accidentally read Susan's Corey-poem before I looked at today's challenge. Her work was wonderful, fabulously flawless, and fortunately far too good for the likes of a scribbler like me to copy.
In a halfhearted attempt to lay the blame on Susan, however, I can say she didn't mention Real Toads until after a reader read the poem. By the time I realized what she had written and why she had written it, and put the two together, it was too late.
However, Corey's syllable-counting joke has given me an out. I rendered it religiously, thus:

2324459877678765

Corey

Rowley is

rowdy;

this none of us

can now deny

(although he will try).

The man at Mexican Radio

sometimes hides behind the music,

Not the same number
as the one written
on his shirt.

trying not to let Real Toads

know the meaning of his odes.

But he does have a heart

which might show up in his art.

He cannot hide behind music,

he cannot hide there at all.

We now have his number

written on the wall.

Gift shop reflections in Mathews, Virginia

Outdoor reflections are to be expected in the window of a gift shop (top) but plexiglass display stands are required to add the reflective element to a collection of carved birds inside the store.

Photos by Kay Davies, September, 2013

Posted for
Weekend Reflections
hosted by James, of Something Sighted
Thanks, James!

My oh my, what's that in the sky?

For
Skywatch Friday

Dick and Lindy were out walking a few days ago, and saw this adventurer in the sky. At first, he was getting rather close to the wires.

But with the aid of an engine contraption that reminds me of boats in the Florida everglades, he got up above the trees, closer to the clouds.

Dick could hear the sound of the engine as the machine flew overhead, and then disappeared off into the wild blue yonder.

Richard Schear photos, 2013

Ed's list of words for Real Toads

love song to the senses

do I love mountains

more than rivers?

Richard Schear photo, Costa Rica, 2007

the crash

as the waterfall

splashes

into the gorge?

the strength

of the ocean?

the murmur

of streams?

the bay in

the moonlight?

jungle ponds?

the moon?

the stars?

which do I love more?

I know not.

how can I choose

just one to murmur

my love songs to?

give me

all nature

to soothe

my senses

and I will love

each part of it alike.

At the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads today, poet Ed Pilolla has given us a list of words from which we can choose one or more for use in a poem. Not one to enjoy the constraints of rhyme pattern, word count, poetic or syllabic style, Ed has left those matters to us, and provided a list of his favourite words, most of which are also favourites of mine. Thanks, Ed!

Here's Ed's list. I didn't use all his words, but I didn't miss many, either.

River Ocean Love Moon Stars Strength Stream Crash Waterfall Splash Break Flow Murmur Trenches Gorges Downhill Lakes Mountaintops Bay Jungle Ponds

Q is for La Belle Provence, Quebec

 I took these photos on my 2010 solo trip across Canada by train, a trip my mother and I talked about for many years, but we never did get a chance to go together before she died.
The last time I mentioned it, she sounded very enthusiastic, but phoned me back to say she didn't think she was up to it any more.

Although I wished Mom had been  able to do the trip with me, I went on my own from Edmonton to Cape Breton Island, thinking of her all the way.

I loved seeing so much of my country. After visiting a friend in Toronto, Ontario, I enjoyed the stately grace and beauty of Québec's largest city, Montreal.

Yes, Q is
for Québec.

Montreal contrasts sharply with the rugged, romantic coast of the Gaspé Peninsula, my second Québec destination. I arrived by train but rented a car for some up-close and personal time with the glorious scenery.

I was thrilled to see the thousands of seabirds, particularly the Gannets, nesting on the rocky islands offshore.  

The small towns of the Gaspé Peninsula are full of bright colours, good food, and interesting things to see and do. 

Photos by Kay Davies

June, 2010

Posted for the letter Q at
ABC Wednesday,
with thanks to Denise Nesbitt, who started this meme, Roger Green who ably assists her with keeping it going, a whole team of alphabetarians who take turns hosting, and this week especially to our friend Gattina who is hosting the letter Q.