“Push the door, just a little
and stride into the unknown beyond,”
my brave heart urges, insistent, strong.
I shake my head, in time with my quivering hands,
fight-flight pushing and pulling me
I think I want to cower.
But I go.
It’s time for the dVerse Quadrille Monday, where this week Victoria invites us to wrote on the theme of ‘open’ in any manner we choose, as long as we use the quadrille form.
The picture above is the coat of arms for Birmingham (UK), the city of my birth. The lady on the left is holding a book and an artist’s palette, representing art, and the man on the left is a blacksmith, representing industry. It gives me a feeling of strength and determination, very much how the people of Birmingham were, and how I see them (us) still.
I’ve been taking a little breather from writing to regroup, and it’s good to ease myself back in with a quadrille, a form I really enjoy writing in.
Please do head on over to dVerse to read… and take part – why not?
Here is where my father lived – and died.
Here is where I learned to walk, to talk, to do as I was told, without question, without demur, without a thought for my own safety.
This is where my nursery rhymes were the constant thrum and clatter of gears, spindles, wheels and metal grinding on metal. This is where wool was not something to cuddle up to or keep me warm at night, but to wipe from my streaming eyes, the gossamer fibres burying themselves between my eyelashes as I dodged the never-halting carders and pulleys. Here, I learned that loose-flowing curls were a death-sentence, not a young girl’s crowning glory.
All is quiet now. The scene is pastoral, industry has long gone.
Thank the Lord.
It’s time for Jane Dougherty’s Microfiction Challenge where this week she asks us to respond to this pastoral scene painted by Henri Rousseau. I had in mind the now peaceful, countryside scene that greets visitors to the fascinating Ironbridge Gorge Museums, once a hub of the Victorian industrial revolution. It must have felt and sounded like bedlam at the height of its productivity.
we think that the streets
were quieter then, ringing
with horses’ hooves
on stone, multiplied beyond
our eardrums’ bearing
It’s time for TJ’s Household Haiku Challenge, where this week we are asked to write using the prompt word, ‘reflect’. Given that I am also a member of the Haiku Hub, we have also been challenged to incorporate some sort of retro touch to our haiku. I hope I’ve managed to merge the two successfully, using my black and white image of a horseshoe, and reflecting on our thoughts of times gone by, pre-motor car.
Do head on over to TJ’s place, have a read and why not take part?