Like luminous petals falling Over lush green lawns your Violet verses float down in Eloquent abundance.
Love-filled lyrics pervade the ether Elegant stanzas resonate with rhyme Tantalising texts torment my senses Tempting cantos seep into my soul Eternal love spills from your pen while Rhythms of ecstasy permeate my heart.
Image credit: Timur Kozmenko The image is of a girl dressed in a red swirling frock walking towards open gates. The gates appear to be of oriental origin and are very tall. From the open gate you can see mountains visible through a cloudy sky.
Image credit: Rhaúl V. Alva @ Unsplash The image shows a puppy wearing a Christmas hat, sitting in a bed. You can see the Christmas tree lit up in the background.
My inner child cowers, confined by conformity Yearning to be let out, unshackled and free!
Iridescent, uninhibited Not contained and Not restrained, she’d Engineer enjoyment, frivolity and fun. Raging and rebellious
Chortling and Howling, craving Instant satisfaction, but no! Quietly she Lurks beneath the veil of decorum Dwelling in the darkness, sadly unfulfilled.
Image credit: Tim Hüfner @ Unsplash The image shows wall art. A woman is dressed in 1950’s style. A speech bubble next to her says, ‘Listen to your inner child’. There are cartoons and graffiti on the wall too.
Reaching out across the airwaves tuneful voices high and sweet echo brightly from a distant chapel of vaulted ceilings and flickering candles
She sings along, only slightly out of tune picturing pews of fresh-faced choirboys with golden halo hair and snow-white surplices wide-eyed and open mouthed
Smiling, she chops and slices as the voices transport her while her hands work busily preparing for the feast
Now the warm summer wind drifts through the open kitchen window while wintery hymns embrace her in nostalgia.
It’s my special festive tradition to listen to the carol service from King’s College Cambridge while cooking on Christmas Eve. This year will be no exception. Some particularly fond memories of mine come from the years when my husband had a bike shop and used to go out late on Christmas Eve to deliver the children’s bikes to their houses after they’d gone to bed, just like Santa Claus, while I made us a late supper of fishy treats.
Image credit: Shche-Team @ Unsplash (The image shows an outdoor scene. An old fashioned radio is placed next to a couple of candles and a wicker basket. Behind the radio is a pot full of blooming red flowers)
Image credit: Cheryl Holt @ Pixabay (The image shows very two young girls heading off together, holding hands. One is of African heritage and the other seems Caucasian).
Just one tiny cake a candle-topped treat two bites big is all I can eat.
Gone are the days of parties and thrills just make sure I take all my pills.
But with memories rich I’ll celebrate don’t you know I’m a hundred and eight?*
Written in response toSadje’sWhat Do You See #57photo prompt. Image credit: Angéle Kamp @ Unsplash (The image shows a a single cupcake with a lit candle on top of it).
luna's on line 