Photos by Sarah, Thursday Doors

Rich Glen Olive Farm

Glamorous door for a toilet!

Entrance to the farm gate store…

Image credits By Sarah ©️

Prompt: Norm 2.0, Thursday Doors, November 30, 2017

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Daily Post Weekly Challenge, Photos by Sarah

Ah, The Serenity…

Sunset at Lake Mulwala, NSW

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Image credits By Sarah ©

Daily Post, Weekly Photo Challenge – Serene

Poetry by Sarah, Tanka

Lucent Waves

Mornings thick with flies.
Heat radiates lucent waves,
bouncing off the ground.
Top of 35 degrees (C) today!
I wish it was winter still…

By Sarah ©2017

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Image credit PXHere

Prompt: Ramblings Of A Writer, Weekly Tanka Prompt Challenge, Week 73 – mornings and winter, Daily Post Daily Prompt, degree

Haiku / Senryu, Poetry by Sarah

Poseidon

God of sea and storms.
Bad-tempered, moody, greedy –
vengeful when he’s wronged.

Defeating titans,
drawing straws to rule the seas.
Navigating worlds.

Praying for safety,
sailors begging smooth passage;
were sometimes obliged.

Trident: three strong spear,
striking ground – an ‘earthshaker.’
Most fearsome power.

Alas, no match for
modern times; swamped by progress.
Ocean’s heart, no more.

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Photo Challenge #190; and also, Ronovan Writes, Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt, Challenge #177 – strong and heart

Free Verse, Poetry by Sarah

Reformation

We are caught up
in your uncanny tendencies.
Yet our vertebra demand
greater toughness from within.

We are stranded in this warren
with the muzzle of your barrel,
in our oscitant mouths.
Endeavouring for syncretism is fruitless.

We cry for reform – before we collapse.

 

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Daily Post Daily Prompt – tend; and also, Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Wordle #180. Words: collapse, reform, oscitant (adj. yawning, as with drowsiness; gaping. drowsy or inattentive, dull, lazy, negligent, malaise), strand, syncretism (n. the attempted reconciliation or union of different or opposing principles, practices, or parties, as in philosophy or religion), warren, barrel, catch, tough, tendency, uncanny, vertebra

Other, Poetry by Sarah

Twister

It seemed a simple puzzle
– twist; stand still; and wish,
ambler nor no other would nuzzle.
It seemed a simple puzzle.
A sneaky trim, a stolen tousle.
Stream toward the prize…oh no, we’ve all gone squish!
It seemed a simple puzzle
– twist, stand still and wish.

By Sarah ©2017

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Image credit Wikimedia under the Creative Commons Licence

Prompt: Sunday Whirl, Wordle 327. Words: puzzle, stream, twist, ring, wish, amble, prize, still, simple, stolen, stand, trim

Other, Poetry by Sarah

Flyway

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Bird migration is the regular seasonal movement, often north and south along a flyway, between breeding and wintering grounds.

Let’s fly along the flyway,
for bounties from lands afar.
Just for the season we will stay,
let’s fly along the flyway.
Journeying all night, and through the day,
our compass of sun and star.
Let’s fly along the flyway,
for bounties from lands afar.

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Sammi Scribbles, Weekend Writing Prompt, #30 – Journey. Poetry Challenge – Write a triolet* inspired by the photo prompt.

* A triolet is a short poem of eight lines with only two rhymes used throughout. The requirements of this fixed form are straightforward: the first line is repeated in the fourth and seventh lines; the second line is repeated in the final line; and only the first two end-words are used to complete the tight rhyme scheme. Thus, the poet writes only five original lines, giving the triolet a deceptively simple appearance: ABaAabAB, where capital letters indicate repeated lines.

Stories by Sarah

The Long Weekend

I could tell I was coming down with the flu. I had a thick, cotton-wool head, my nose was sniffly, and a general feeling of malaise had settled over my body.

Dammit! I thought to myself. This weekend of all weekends!

My husband and I had been planning this trip for ages – a romantic getaway for the Queen’s Birthday long weekend. In fact, he was on his way to pick me up right now. We were leaving straight from work in an attempt to make the most of time we had.

I sluggishly paced the front entrance of my school and prayed it was just a little head cold. Maybe if I ignored it and just carried on with our plans, it would go away, I hoped. I popped two Panadol into my mouth and took a swig of water from my drink bottle to wash them down. As I placed the cap back on the bottle, our little red car rounded the corner.

My husband pulled up and I opened the door. I jumped in, and he said, “Gee, you look terrible. Are you feeling okay?”

Feeling bolder now that I had taken the paracetamol, I replied, “Sure, just a little tired. It’s been a big week.”

“Well, sit back and relax. I can drive the whole way to Halls Gap if you like?” he offered.

“That would be great. Thanks,” I answered, gratefully.

He pulled out from the kerb, and put on a podcast to listen to, while I closed my eyes. The motion of the car, and the monotone voice droning from the radio, soon soothed me to sleep.


When I woke, I felt a little better! Thank goodness! I thought.

I sat up and looked around, trying to get my bearings. I noticed we had pulled into a service station, and across the road a sign read ‘Ararat Bakehouse’. My husband returned to the car with some basic supplies and a couple of meat pies for dinner.

“Here you go sleepyhead,” he smiled, handing me the food. “We’re only about 45 minutes away!”

I could hear the excitement in his voice. We had been looking forward to this weekend and had lots of hiking and outdoor activities planned. He had also found us a rustic log cabin to stay in. That was our version of camping.

As we started off again, the fog began to roll in. We watched the temperature gauge on the car, drop 8 degrees. Soon, we could barely see a metre in front of us. My husband reduced his speed from the 100 km limit to 80 km. White knuckled, he gripped the steering wheel, straining to see.

Suddenly, a kangaroo flew out in front of us, merrily hopping across our path. My husband swore and braked – narrowly missing it.

“Damn ‘roos!” he cursed.

“That was close,” I agreed, shaken. “Remember last time we came here, we also had emus and deer running across the road too?”

“That’s right. There were too,” he recalled. Being even more cautious, he slowed his pace further and the 45 minute journey, soon grew into 1 hour and 20 minutes. Finally, we arrived.

Reception had waited for us, realising we had most likely been caught up in the thick fog. “It’s a real pea souper out there tonight,” our host said, stating the obvious.

We opened the door to our cabin which was as quaint and cosy as the pictures on the booking site had promised. The fire had also been started for us. Quite some time ago, given the warmth emitting from the flue – it was permeating throughout the whole place; living room, kitchen and bedroom.

We unloaded our belongings from the car and quickly settled on the couch with a glass of red wine, enjoying the warmth of the fire. As we sipped our drinks and chatted, the feeling of being unwell descended upon me once more.

Disappointed, I headed to bed for an early night, hoping a ‘good night’s sleep’, would see me right for the two big walks we had planned the next day…


When I roused, the digital clock on the bedside table informed me it was 5:33am. The next thing I noticed, was the unbearable heat. I was sweating profusely and sticky; entangled in the sheets. The air felt thick and heavy. My head pounded and the roof of my mouth felt itchy and dry. My lips were crusty and razor blades scratched up and down my throat. My nose was so blocked, no air could pass through either nostril. My joints and muscles ached from my teeth to my toes. I groaned and threw myself out of the restrictive covers, desperate for air.

I padded into the kitchen and poured myself a huge glass of water. I gulped it down and then headed to the front door, walking out of the claustrophobic heat of the log cabin and into the frosty early hours of the new day. The air was a welcome chill against my burning skin and as I mouth-breathed in and out, steam accompanied every time. I sighed with relief but then, feeling a bit dizzy and wobbly on my feet, I sat myself down in one of the bistro chairs on the porch. I closed my eyes and waited for my fever to subside.

As the sun began to peek over the horizon, illuminating the sentinel boulders that adorned the towering peaks of the mountains that surrounded the gap, I remembered the beauty of this place and ached to be able to experience it.

I hoped with every fibre of my being that, Halls Gap had a pharmacy. Because flu or no flu, in an ultimate test of mind over matter, I was determined to climb those mountains, and hike those trails. Just as we’d planned…


P.S. Halls Gap DID indeed have a pharmacy and, using frequent and maximum dosages of lozenges, cold and flu tablets and nose spray, I did manage to hold off from succumbing, for the remainder of the weekend. I WAS able to do those hikes. (Never mind that I then fell in a heap and had the next week and a half off work! I maintain it was worth it.)

 

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Saturday Mix, Double Take – 25 November 2017. Homophones to use: bolder – more courageous, boulderlarge rock, flew – past tense of fly, flu – short for influenza, flue – chimney pipe; and also, Daily Post Daily Prompt, degree

Challenges by Sarah, Mindlovemisery's Menagerie - Saturday Mix

Saturday Mix – Double Take, 25 November 2017

Seeing seeing double double…

Mindlovemisery's Menagerie

Welcome to the Saturday Mix, 25 November 2017!

This week we are seeing double with
Double Take

The ‘Double Take’ challenge focuses on the use of homophones* to build your writing piece. You have two sets of homophones and you are challenged to use all four words in your response – which can be poetry or prose.

Our first homophone set this week is:

bolder – more courageous
boulderlarge rock

Our second set of homophones is:

flew – past tense of fly
flu – short for influenza
flue – chimney pipe

You may be thinking to yourself, How can I use homophones in my writing?
Luckily, Kat at Literary Devices, has some examples for you.

Example of Homophones in Literature
This poem is filled homophones (marked in bold). They create a humorous effect in the poem through having the same pronunciation but altogether different meanings.

Sole

View original post 169 more words

Poetry by Sarah, Shadorma

The Girls

Below them,
the dark streets beckoned
with crimson
light. Then he
asked her price and the slap bounced
off tired brick walls.

‘Just because
I work here, doesn’t
mean I work
the corners,’
she replied. ‘Someone has to
look after the girls.’

By Sarah @2017

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Image credit Pixabay

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, First Line Friday – November 24th, 2017

Other, Poetry by Sarah

First Robin

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Image credit Pinterest

first robin spotted
low lands are facing the dark
as snow falls softly

first robin spotted
upon white, fiery read breast
singing lonely tunes

low lands are facing the dark
no breath of wind stirs
and still air mutes the songbird

as snow falls softly
wooded fingers catch its flakes
robin flies away

By Sarah @2017

Note: For the Troiku you separate the three lines. Every line becomes the first line of the three new haiku. (Line 1 for haiku 1; line 2 for haiku 2; line 3 for haiku 3). It does not follow normal 5/7/5 rules as it cannot!

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Heeding Haiku With Chèvrefeuille, November 22nd 2017 – Troiku

Daily Post Weekly Challenge, Photos by Sarah

Transformation

“Sand is possibly something you take for granted; it gets in your hair and your clothes and all over your food at the beach. But sand is also fascinating. Sandy beaches are dynamic: sand accumulates slowly over time, can be removed from the beach by large waves during storms, and can be redeposited back on the beach from offshore banks during calm periods. Sand is typically made mostly of varying amounts of material weathered from inland rocks, and/or shells and other hard parts from the ocean water (e.g marine organisms).”

Source: Saltwater Science

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Image credits By Sarah ©2017

Over time, this shell, will be transformed and form part of this sand.

 

Prompt: Daily Post, Weekly Photo Challenge- Transformation

Poetry by Sarah, Tanka

Snooze

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Image credit Winnond via FreeDigitalPhotos

Alarm drills through dreams.
Grudgingly, eyes peel open;
yet mind stays sluggish.
My daily morning challenge
– not to roll over; hit snooze.

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Weekly Tanka Prompt Challenge, Week 72 – morning and challenge

Photos by Sarah, Tuesday Photo Challenge

Tasman Glacier

A kind of unwanted progress…

The Tasman Glacier / Haupapa is the largest glacier in New Zealand and one of several large glaciers which flow south and east towards the Mackenzie Basin from the Southern Alps in New Zealand’s South Island.

The glacier remained at a constant 28 km (17 mi) in length for all of its recorded history in the 20th century before progressing with its current period of rapid melting in the 1990s. Between 2000 and 2008 alone, the glacier receded 3.7 km. Since the 1990s it has retreated, on average, about 180 metres (590 ft) a year.

The glacier is now in a period of faster retreat where the rate of retreat is calculated to be between 477 to 822 metres (1,565 to 2,697 ft) each year. With this rate of progress, it is estimated that the Tasman Glacier will eventually disappear.

Source: Tasman Glacier

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Image credits By Sarah ©

Prompt: Daily Post Daily Prompt – Constant; and also, Dutch Goes The Photo, Tuesday Photo Challenge, Week 84 – Progress

Haiku / Senryu, Poetry by Sarah

Spirited

Over being broken,
my spirit claws it’s way back.
You can’t hold me down.

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Photo Challenge #189; and also, Ronovan Writes, Weekly Haiku Prompt, Challenge #176 – broken and over