A little ‘fridge poetry to welcome the Spring (and yes, it’s driving me bazoinkers that ‘marriage’ is misspelled).
Mud Sweat
fertility
Fertile Northern Lights
It’s a two-fer this week, combination 6 Sentence story and Carrot Ranch prompts!
The stewpot was emptied of root vegetables, venison gratefully given, and thick brown gravy sweetened with brunost. Crumbs of spilled flatbread caught the flicker of resting embers, and a half-dozen children snored under heavy woolen blankets. The littlest, wrapped in rabbit’s fur, lay in his mother’s arms. Continue reading
Queen of the Night*
Creamy cactus buds, feathered with pink curving petals.
Shy flamingos sparsely shelter in thick, darkly unassuming leaves.
Sun sets, ushering in the cooling desert dawn,
The Queen’s one chance at immortality.
Tale from the Land of the Midnight Sun: Hjordis
A single star streaked through the wind-slashed northern night, highlighting the ice shards that skittered across the glacier and collected on the pelt of Magnhildr. Shivering, she howled as another contraction rippled through her body, and dropped to her knees. She panted and leaned against the single granite outcropping that pushed through the otherwise flat, blue expanse, broken only by shifting dunes of snow. Continue reading
Miracles, Madness and Hjordis
“Tell me again why this particular hill?” Grace glared at her grandmother Maeve.
“’Tis our best hope of marshaling all forces of Man and Nature,”retorted the old woman, her lavender cape, the only warm color for miles, whipping about her bony shoulders in the dry wind. “Plus, the light is better. Image is everything—well, nearly everything–for this plan.”
“You’re remarkably hip for an old crone,” she remarked, “But if you don’t slow down, Hjordis may drop her young one right here on the path.” Continue reading
Valley of the Trolls 