Thankfully Simple!

Let us come together and celebrate

Each other and the Goodness

Of the Abundance of the Earth.

 May your Thanksgiving

 Rise above

the clamor of all that has yet to come!

Fin

photo credits  fffound- girl in water

A gift from a far away place!

 With a cup of coffee in hand --  

listening to new songs with old words 

I lift the curtain and see,

brightened by the afternoon sun,

a timeless joy 

...a breath of flowers ...

with a note...

 ...comes along the wind.

art by joanny

Fin

Sunday 160
Sunday Sketches

photo #1  fffound- rodney smith, 2 fffound,  #3,4,5  by joanny, painting by joanny

Love Potion Number Nine

Time  Passes.....

Morning follows night 

Seasons come and go

Love waxes and wanes
Distance separates.....

I still taste your lips
Smell your hair
Feel your touch 
 

My Heart aches for you 

 fin
* **

* * *

Sunday 160

  photos via tumblr

Indefinable Grace!

Choreography of great pleasure

The leaps soar and subside

    
Clearness of placing
The sureness of timing
A delicate balance 

Standing with bent knee on one foot,

The other leg horizontal and downward

Drive the velocity and  force
With which her free leg deploys 

Its mass from the leg she stands anchored on

Her prowess and her dance instinct collide

Fin

* * *

friday flash 55 hosted by G-man

* * * 

imperfect prose hosted by emily 

Choreography of great pleasure
The leaps soar and subside    
Clearness of placing
The sureness of timing
A delicate balance
Standing with bent knee on one foot,
The other leg horizontal and downward
Drive the velocity and  force
With which her free leg deploys
Its mass from the leg she stands anchored on 
Her prowess and her dance instinct collide

 fin

Friday Flash 55

imperfect prose

photo credits  ffffound and tumblr  sketches by joanny

THE LAKE HOUSE

Once youthful 

now hath grown old
with character, charm  & cherished memories
the history of it all
without trying to be anything
other than what it is 

at the heart of its architectural soul.

fin

* * * *

Sunday 160 hosted by monkey man

* * * *  
Flash Fiction Friday 55, hosted by Mr. Knowitall.

 * * * *

 *I can't help reminiscent, on how I came upon 

this beautiful weathered stone Lake House-

While casually exploring, looking for the view,

the path wound in and out along the shoreline. 

Making my way around the bend 

across an ancient bridge 

and down the stone steps, it felt oddly familiar.

I suppress a shiver, the Lake House 

is drenched in radiant light

looking like some mythic fen 

at the edge of the world.

I knew at once

that I would paint the scene;

*It stirred my soul*

 The End

photos 1-5 boat house that is situated on its own private island in Lake Oswego, Portland Oregon.
This most unusual boathouse, designed by architect, Richard Sundeleaf, in 1933, is constructed of stones, sculptured turrets, wrought iron gates and exposed beam interiors. Inside, on an old stone bench, the owner can sit, look at the lake, and beyond see an unimpeded view of Mount Hood.
photo 7 tim walker - girl in sail boat

   

The Spirit of Montmartre.

Montmartre, the Mecca for the Bohemian

world the fin de déclin de siècle

where once pious nuns did pray 

now throngs of local patrons seeking 

pleasure of sensuality sublime as they beg 

for something more:

Mon cher mon ame et corps tu me fait un grand plaisir

A virtuosity with color,
 both compassionate and voyeuristic

a most perplexing  young man was he,

though small in stature,
somewhat harsh, witty, 

a chronicle of the bawdy, 

lived a life among the sordid,

using only a paintbrush  he surpasses

the  language of the senses

and  immortalized the unknowns,

singers, poets, and can-can girls. 

Temptation of the soul whispering taunts,

with a skewed perspective,

illuminating the shadows with lurid colors

the young unknown artist paints 

the aching beauty of the naughty girl 

with low neckline and tossed up skirt,

with all the follies and sins despite,
shrouded in ambiguous, artificial light,
the chanticleer of Pan’s nightlife,
painting those souls in brothels, bars and cabarets.

Savoring his intoxication, drunkenly he inhales pain,

unable to speak Toulouse de Lautrec succumbs at age 36,

with one last glimpse of his life

left on the canvas of the spirit of Montmartre.

fin 

Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec (b Albi, Tarn, 24 Nov 1864; d Chateau de Malromé, nr Langon, Gironde, 9 Sept 1901) was a leading postimpressionist artist whose paintings, lithography, and posters contributed much to the development of Art Nouveau in the 1890s.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henri_de_Toulouse-Lautrec 

photo credits: Google  toulouse-lautrec-- The last painting shown here Toulouse Latrec painted his portrait in the scene -he is the one with the beard.

 join me with Emily who hosts imperfect prose here. and other poets.

copy of poem without photo's

Montmartre, the Mecca for the Bohemian world
the fin de déclin de siècle where once pious nuns did pray
now throngs of local patrons seeking pleasure
of sensuality sublime as they beg for something more:
Mon cher mon ame et corps tu me fait un grand plaisir
A virtuosity with color, both compassionate and voyeuristic
a most perplexing  young man was he
though small in stature, somewhat harsh, witty,
a chronicle of the bawdy, lived a life among the sordid,
using only a paintbrush
he surpasses the  language of the senses
and  immortalized the unknowns, singers, poets, and can-can girls.
Temptation of the soul whispering taunts,
with a skewed perspective,
illuminating the shadows with lurid colors
the young unknown artist paints
the aching beauty of the naughty girl
with low neckline and tossed up skirt,
with all the follies and sins despite,
shrouded in ambiguous, artificial light,
the chanticleer of Pan’s nightlife,
painting those in brothels, bars and cabarets.
Savoring his intoxication,
drunkenly inhales pain,
unable to speak
Toulouse de Lautrec succumbs at age 36,
with one last glimpse of his life
left on the canvas of the spirit of Montmartre.