Tuesday, 13 November 2018

It doesn't have to be poetry...

It doesn't have to be poetry... prose is fine. C'mon the Writing Gang, let's see your scribbling!

See this stunning description from Aileen:


Sunlight glinting off the water and the smell of diesel. Orange and green light on the wall filtered through a stained glass window. Outside, we cut through still water, smoke from the stove wafting on the cool breeze. All the trees are clinging on to their colours, still exuberant in their beauty, which is precious and fragile. One storm and it will all be gone.
The canal glimmers with bronze and gold from reflected trees, painting their colours on the water. The blue of sky, inverted landscapes like upside down paintings. I would like to walk into this other landscape, to find a doorway into a world of upside down trees. I would walk along the sky, crossing clouds, and I would see everything in a new way. It would be restful to lie amongst the clouds and to look up at the earth, watching the boats make their way along the canal above my head, people crossing bridges and living in upside down buildings, not seeing me sitting in the clouds, changing my perspective on everything. If I fall asleep I will drift into this perfect blue space, resting on the heavens, cradled in infinity.
This is where I shape my dreams, I paint my landscape in all the colours of the rainbow and every dark cloud is just a quiet place to rest.

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