Teeth of the Enemy

Warriors, Horse, War, Warhorse, History

Into the teeth of the enemy

Surrounded by scenes horrible – gory

There are those who will risk certain death

All for the idea of glory

But the race is not always to the swiftest

Or victory assured to the brave

Sometimes triumph is delivered

To those their live’s for tomorrow’s battle save


Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge: 

tomorrow, death, and glory

Mystic Encounter

Campfire, Ash, Wood Ash, Grilling, Firewood, Hot

The pair entered through glade into a clearing that was obscured by fog. At the centre there was a fire, the source of the the light that had led them that way. Seated at the fireside was a crone, tending the flames and occasionally tossing pinches of some herb into a boiling pot.

“Welcome Jan. Oh, and Oskar too,” she said with a gravelly voice.

The brothers stared at each other and then back to the mystic figure before them.

“Are you surprised that I know your names? Why, I have known who you were since you were lads. Your identity is no secret to me. In fact, I have been waiting for you. You certainly have taken your time to arrive,” she said with a low cackle.

“How . . .. Who?” Oskar stammered.

“That’s no interesting tale,” the crone responded. “Let us just say I knew your mother, and her mother as well.”

“And have we met you before? I am sorry, but I don’t recognise you,” Jan said.

“You have indeed, but you were but babes.”

“And you say you have been waiting for us?” Oskar asked.

“Why yes, for days now.” You really were rather foolish with that chest, if you you don’t mind me saying. It is a greedy guts, that one. But good to see you didn’t waste too much time on trying to get your coins back.”

“How . . .?” Jan began.

“It’s all in the pot, Lad. It’s all in the pot,” she said throwing another pinch into the bubbles. “Now, you are running late my dears, so you can’t dally. You need to go north to Ringstead, and look beneath the bridge. You will know what to do then,” she said emotionlessly.

“North?” Jan repeated with a puzzled tone. “We have just come from the north.”

“North,” the crone said again, and threw a handful of red powder into her pot. Suddenly their was a bust of steam, and then the clearing was bathed in sunlight and all that remained of the crone and her fire was a cold ring of ash.”

“North?” Oskar asked.

“North,” Jan said with a resigned tone.


Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge: Use fire, mystic, and identity in prose or poetry

Heroes United

It was a typical night in the metropolis. People went about their business, often unaware of the dangers that lurked just out of their view. But help was always at hand as the Heroes United patrolled the mean streets. Well on most nights anyway, the citizens had the protective oversight of the Heroes. Tonight, however, the duty roster took an unfortunate turn as Afraid of Heights Man and Scared of the Dark Girl clung to each other in terror on a rooftop and prayed for morning.


Tuesday Writing Prompt

Love One Another

People, Earth, Map, Boy, Cooperation

There are the haves and some have yachts

Often overlooking those that have not

Some have privilege – being born that way

Others most struggle to make their way

While all are in the image of their creator

Things like gender can be a negator

The UN says in rights and dignity

We are meant to be one

But for many the recognition has yet to be won

So look beyond the book and its cover

And let us just strive to love one another


Today’s prompt: Write a poem on justice and equality.


Blizzard, Snow Flurry, Snowflakes


Jayden stood at the living room window and watched the falling snow. It was steady with large fluffy flakes that seemed to settle quickly into a thick blanket. There was already over eight inches on the ground, an accumulation virtually unknown in his region. His boss had phoned about a half an hour before to say that they would be closing the workshop today. Closed, Jayden mused. It had been the first time since his divorce that he had had a weekday off. Since the divorce, flashed through his head. He pondered the circumstances of of it. She had said he was a workaholic and never had time for her anymore. Was she right? Why am I feeling so wound up by a few flakes of snow? I just want to get to work. Is that too much to ask? Jayden checked himself, and took a deep breath, How could such a tranquil scene as falling snow bring on such a blizzard of thoughts?


Tuesday Writing Prompt