So, here’s the image we’ve chosen as a writing prompt for the upcoming issue 14.1: Spring in Cascade Canyon, Mill Valley, California, courtesy of ?photographer Frank Schulenburg. A place with a nearly fairy-tale flavor to help spark your imagination. ?We hope it inspires you to surprise yourself with a small poem you may not have written otherwise. We invite you to add your best efforts to our comment box below.
We’ll include the stand-out poem(s) in our forthcoming issue, tinywords 14.1, ?due out in early April.
Regular submissions will continue to be accepted at our submissions?page through Monday, March 3, 2014.
Time to get lost in the woods. The Redwoods.
Thanks,
The Editors
breathless beauty
peaceful calm reverberates
under the looming redwood
on the path
to the hidden garden…
we find
our song and sing it,
our love and live it
Charmed
Up to the cottage, our getaway
is inviting and quaint,
an enchanting hideaway–
up to the cottage. A getaway
for time without complaint,
to live without restraint.
Up to the cottage, our getaway
is inviting and quaint.
~Laurie Kolp
You can hug them
soft on your cheek
sequoia trees
Verdant path speckled
with sunlight alighting my
imagination
where oh where
can the butterfly be
adrift in the sea of green
So much nature carefully arranged
around one expensive cottage.
A sparrow singing further down the road.
We found the house by chance
drunk on stories of old times—
taken aback by the puzzle-
piece roof, lush secrecy
behind fern and cobble
glad for our imagination
running, no, fleeing
from our failed hunt for morels,
morsels under fallen giants—
Nature finding a way
to give us something back,
something new
under the redwoods
my thoughts
grow still
tiny house—
canopy light seeps through
ferns in a garden
coming home again
sunlight warming
the memories
redwoods
all the reasons
to step off the path
"nippy spring"
roses bloom
on a tiny path;
the glory of majestic treetops escapes
nippy spring resting on the skin
greenery all around
waking up environs
spring on wings
green world
everywhere
a different shade
…forgetting 'five' to hide 'four' rose clover…
greenery all around
old yielding place to new
spring around smiles
On the path
we find our way
off it.
MATRYOSHKA
Inside the fashionable garden is a cottage.
Inside the fashionable cottage is a lady.
Inside the fashionable lady is the best fashion.
Home
Born in a dream
this stone cottage nested
among the redwoods.
Its window reflects
sun on a tangle of foliage—
green faery fire within.
Older than we are, younger by far
than the ancient ones around it,
this dwelling calls us home.
green pathway…
reflections in a still pond
dwarfed by trees
Birds wonder at the window
Humming witch stirs her pot
Cat sneezes at spicy magic
Looking from the window
pondering the beauty of
roses, trees and ferns
gingerbread house
deep in the forest
trail of pebbles
moss covered path
to an old cottage door –
is that a fairy slipper?
fairy slipper=a seldom seen orchid native to the redwood forests,
redwood forest
even our home
feels at home
tiny hints of light
explode like sparks from the hearth
under dense foliage
windows—
images of crosses
convex foliage
these are not the illuminated cottages you are looking for
even in the beauty of this forest
humans still want more–
skylight
“forest fiesta”
colorful fiesta of candy drops pervade
logs of bread in a gentle spring oven
by a pond of coconut juice
bordering a stick of meandering green taffy
Kinkadian cottages
come and go —
the redwood forest
is the witness
that remains
Returning home
the roses blooming
better than ever
bed of flowers
deep in the forest
frames my cabin
deep in the spring wood this quiet longing
old brick…
flowering trees adorn
variegated shrubs
in sunlit shadows
among the towering pines
thoughts of home abound
redwoods …
the song of crickets at
every turn
stone cottage…
a pheasant's whistle
from a redwood
red blossoms
what power gave you wings
to haunt my dreams?
just as he promised:
the stone cottage at the end
of a lush green lane . . .
in such hidden spots we find
what we scarcely dare to dream
redwood forest
birdsong nestling
in the breeze
beneath the redwoods
I remember how
to breathe
where oh where
can the butterfly be
adrift amidst the sea of green
round well
i swim in circles
with a tied string
through layers of bark
riding the scent of moss in the wind
I travel the path home
ivy clings to stone
from fern to flower
dragonflies
forgetting our
game of hide-and-go-seek…
wildflowers
long winter
in my cup of jasmine tea
summer dreams
echoes from the past
hidden among the redwoods
unveils the seasons
re-energized
by birdsong
at breakfast
whispers…
moss, roots retrace
fairy trails
whispers…
moss, gnarled roots trace
fairy trails
beautiful! :)
taking a detour
the spring stumbles
upon me
not a flood
but forests arose
to submerge our sin
these mighty redwoods
guarding this gingerbread house
with filtered sunbeams
remembering that last walk
the things she tried to give me
If I happen upon
a place such as this,
may birds eat my trail of breadcrumbs.
fairy forest:
no knight goes through …
no bird sings
in the deep of my woods–
a wolf, grandmother, woodsmen
and a child
into the wild…
lost in a fake camellia's scent …
a fairy tale
enchanting cottage in photo—
in childhood
t’would be instantly mine
————————-
#Comments: A stunningly beautiful photograph, inspiring so many feelings and ideas, I couldn’t fit them into a small poem. Appreciating one of the elements would be being unfair to the others.
Then it struck me that I was looking at this photo as a grown-up adult; admiring the blossoms, the pond-well, the stone cottage, the grassy path etc.
So I thought of looking at the photo from another angle. Had I been a child, I’d have looked at it as a whole. The entire wondrous scene would present as a delicious starting point of a fairy tale. Instantly, I would imagine myself ‘climbing into’ the photo, making this cottage and its surroundings ‘my own’ and setting forth on a fabulous adventure!
The poem depicts that. The first line indicating that for an adult, it is only a photograph of an enchanting cottage. The second and third lines indicate my point of view as a child.
my dream garden
grows wild in the woods …
fairies welcome
a petal
on each ripple
early spring
I stroll into maturity
reaching for sunlight
through the redwoods
my smile shifts
into dappled shades of spring
spring haze
just around the bend
a bend
three under five
what lies behind
the bathroom door
today
all the decades
it waited for her
and held a place
for her old age
Home
and from my blogs
five roads
from this corner
now I know
my way home
on them all
home from mailing
poetry notes
monarch butterfly
greets me
at the back door
Thank you
hidden cottage
offers temporary respite
among springtime blooms
Cold stone
Caressed by the greens
Hope is the outlook
Inside, are the dreams
the path
to your door
many leaves
to sit
in the shadows –
only you
tall redwoods…
the tiny cottage nestles
amidst rich verdure
in the presence of redwoods equally young
through leaf clad silence
sunlight patters from roof tiles
into the dark pond
filtered sunlight . . .
the whisper
of fairy wings
Green, red, sap-blooded
Sentinels outside my door
Frighten me at night
found
dreams of green things
growing
Rose, lost in the wood,
stumbles across a path to
the house where fear resides
even the clothesline
wears a patina of green
at the garden's end
Ferns as tall as the first turret
The rhododendron appear but tiny
And the hibiscus bloom as tho in the tropics
fairy forest:
no knight goes through …
no birds sing
I looked at this magical scene,and it did suggest fairy tales and serenity and peacefulness,but the path beguiled me, and my thoughts took in a different direction.
your hidden cottage
the garden path
you led me down
beautiful spring day
a tranquil forest cottage
zombies lurk beyond
Stealthily she steps
From dew blade green to leaf mold grey,
Through tendril arcs of ivy
From tree limbs trembling pendulant,
Into the green engulfing wood.
Stealthily she steps,
From dew blade green to leaf mold grey,
Through tendril arcs of ivy
From tree limbs trembling pendulant,
Into the green engulfing wood.
Sunshine
new growth trembles
at the edges of spring
afternoon sun
a redwood's shadow leans
into my childhood
A variation – Dru Philippou
afternoon sun
redwood shadows lean
into my childhood
redwoods, marking time
in centuries, note the brief
stay of a cottage
On the chimney
is that an eye?
The house is alive!
Where is my house
in the forest —
my secret
fairytale house ?
Where is my forest?
Lost in ferns and words
and forest.
spring scents
I walk in sync with
my self
_kala
spring scents
I walk in sync with
my inner self
_kala
leaf-plates rinsed
with spoonfuls of rain
doll picnic
misplaced shadow —
can I trust the leaves
to cover my trail?
waking up
to the scent of redwoods
distant bird song
spring path–
the looking glass
in the redwoods
trunks of redwood trees –
passing spring
searching for lilies
ith sex, merely as it would be tough to tell a tale sprinkled
with explicit sexual specific. In the very act of explaining sex as an incidental, you develop an excruciating sex scene.
Wow, wonderful shots, your pepicertsve gives a great view and feeling of being small. SO sorry about your layoff, what a shock that would be.. hope you find another good job soon! Thank you for sharing on Weekly Top Shot #45!
I have to be honÂest. Iâm just like every perÂson livÂing in the 21st cenÂtury. Iâm fasÂciÂnated and more than willÂing to try someÂthing so proÂfound. I would like to know the fastest and best way to achieve remote viewÂing. Just recÂomÂmend a pracÂtice techÂnique. I will disÂcover the rest.
wah aku isih bujang je Mbahmu : tenane lho… pirang-pirang tahun mbok nggo dalan uyuh thok pirantimu kuwi kang? wah …ndang golek kang.. Â?
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Als Jude und dann als Nazi beschimpft zu werden, sogar als Hitler, nein _schlimmer_ als der.Hach, keinem kann man’s rechtmachenHassmails sind a) humorlos, b) ohne Gedanken, c) ohne Geist, d) ohne menschlichen Adressaten. Tierisch eigentlich.
Syndrome left me with painful, dry eyes, and the uncertainties of a new job all seemed to impact my balance. The painful losses experienced by those all around me on the East Coast are certainly present as
Liebe Ute K. Fleischmann,ganz deutlich wurde mir nicht, was sich hinter dem Beitrag verbirgt, abgesehen davon, dass die Auswirkung von CO2 in der Atmosphäre auf das Klima bezweifelt wird. Hierzu möchte ich auf unsere verweisen.Herzliche Grüße!
Thanks for sharing.