One Wild Song – Līgo Haībun Challenge

The Līgo Haibun Challenge is hosted by Ye Pirate and Ese.

This week we are invited to be innovative. Instead of completing our prose with a haiku, we can choose an alternative style of oh-so-brief poetry. I have selected the Cambodian pathya vat style – four lines of poetry where the second and third lines must rhyme.

This week is also prompt week, and i have chosen the Mexican proverb ‘It is not enough to know how to ride – you must also know how to fall’ as my inspiration.

Please do go and check out the other entries by visiting the co-hosts’ blogs and finding the InLinkz linky thing! There are some very talented writers out there…

*****

– One Wild Song –

The weather yesterday was what I told myself to be the winter version of the day of my dad’s funeral – blue skies, here and there the odd wisp of teased, cotton wool clouds, everywhere crisp and bright.

It was a fitting day for us all to gather for his memorial service. A man who loved colour in his clothing as well as in his art, he would have delighted in such a day to celebrate his life, his achievements, his work.

Throughout the service – a mixture of classical music, hymns, choral works, poetry and other readings – I kept on thinking that I wouldn’t have been surprised if the man himself had arrived, charging down the aisle in a puff of cigar smoke, rainbow-hued tie flailing. It was all so ‘him’. The stunning surroundings, the atmosphere, the sheer grandeur of it all, yet wrapped in an intimacy so tangible it could almost be touched and held close.

So many amazing sentiments were expressed. They were touching, even humorous at times, topped off by a huge round of applause fit to lift St Paul’s Cathedral from its foundations and expose the OBE Chapel to the world outside.

It could have been no better.

clapping of hands
stings in echoes
for life that flows
– sorrow no more

ligo-challenge_logo

Principles – Five Sentence Fiction

It’s time for my latest offering to Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction, a weekly prompt where there is no word limit, just a limit on the number of sentences. Plus, although she provides a word prompt, it is just for direction only – you don’t have to include the word itself in your contribution.

This week, the prompt is  – LETTERS.

letter

Do let me know what you think of my offering below – and whilst you’re at it, why not take a look at everyone else’s offerings (I’m sure they’ll be fabulous), and even give it a go yourself…

*****

– Principles –

Granny had kept all the letters from her childhood sweetheart – they were tied together with a faded ribbon and hidden in a battered suitcase on top of her wardrobe.

Now Granny was gone, there was nothing to stop me from reading them at last.

As a little girl, I had been fascinated with them as she allowed me to organise the envelopes into date order, or by their colour – but I was never, ever to take the letters out, let alone read them.

I settled myself down to read, gradually unwinding the secrets of her mysterious youth.

I never expected to learn that she had been abandoned by her sweetheart for daring to fight for women’s suffrage – his loss.

800px-Votes_for_Women_lapel_pin_(Nancy)

Image from Wikimedia Commons – Nancy

Lillie McFerrin Writes


Protocol – Sunday Photo Fiction

Here is my offering for Sunday Photo Fiction this week, inspired by the photo below.  Why not take part? And why not visit Alastair’s photography and writing blog to take a look at his other photos…?

34-11-november-17th-2013

Copyright – Kattermonran

– Protocol –

“Your father’s honours, my lady.”

My hands reached out for the crown, orb and sceptre as if controlled by another mind not my own. Every fibre of my being wanted to turn away, or throw the hateful object on the floor. But protocol won. As always.

Winning the kingdom had cost father his life and had made orphans of us all.

Now the ‘honours’ were to be laid in the hands of my little brother, whilst I, as the eldest female, would be forced to physically pass them to him in a public ceremony.

I would be signing his death warrant, if recent events were to be our compass to the future.

A servant burst into the room, panting, sweating, distraught. Could it be…?

“The young sire has gone missing, my lady! He is nowhere in the palace!”

I placed a hand over my mouth, in apparent shock.

“Oh! How… Terrible!”

We wouldn’t try too hard to find him.