POSTED IN MUNDANE MONDAY CHALLENGE #50
Poetry, Photography, Humour
“Life tends to be an accumulation of a lot of mundane decisions, which often gets ignored” David Byrne
Snowy Crop Circles
POSTED IN MUNDANE MONDAY CHALLENGE #50
Poetry, Photography, Humour
“Life tends to be an accumulation of a lot of mundane decisions, which often gets ignored” David Byrne
Snowy Crop Circles
Posted in Photography 101: Water & Orientation (Day Three)
“The cold never bothered me anyways”
Frozen Water
But when the blue moment rises
Even the bravest of them seizes
And in the end, all waters freeze
Posted in Photography 101: Water & Orientation (Day Three)
“The cold never bothered me anyways”
Frozen Water
In the midst of all silent and frozen
The cool liquid puts up a strong fight
Surrounded by powder of white
The stream still runs wild and brazen
The Daily Post Weekly Photo Challenge: Harmony
“Art is a harmony parallel with nature” Paul Cezanne
Winter
Cold, white and monochrome
Nature silent under the snowy dome
But, when the sun paints a triple rainbow
The beauty will bring you to an awe
Posted in The Daily Post Weekly Photo Challenge, Seasons
Share an image evocative of the weather or represent the current “season of your life” in metaphor.
“Now is the winter of our discontent” Richard III, William Shakespeare
Nightfall
Soft white lights
In the middle of the night
All have taken flight
From the silent street
Not even a tweet
From the lonely parakeet
After all,
It’s no ball
In the middle of
Winter
Posted in The Daily Post Weekly Photo Challenge, Seasons
Share an image evocative of the weather or represent the current “season of your life” in metaphor.
“Now is the winter of our discontent” Richard III, William Shakespeare
Red
What a blast
The contrast
Not unabashed
As it flashed
Its red colour
All over
Posted in The Daily Post Weekly Photo Challenge, Seasons
Share an image evocative of the weather or represent the current “season of your life” in metaphor.
“Now is the winter of our discontent” Richard III, William Shakespeare
Blurred Bines
With a snow cover
On the top they hover
Not quite the clover
Still always on the upper
They say it’s a hopper
They call them the blurred bines
Yeah yeah yeah!