Time again for Friday Fictioneers, hosted each week by the purple majesty of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. A 100 word piece of flash based on the weekly photo prompt. You’re not shot for going over nor for sliding into rhyme (well I hope not anyway). As I like to try and make my poetry tell a story, I’m hoping it covers the necessary start, beginning and end. If not I’ll get my coat…………..
Get yourselves over and join the addiction.
Photo Copyright : Bjorn Rudberg
Through granite walls and tangled roots,
Through broken vines and twisted shoots,
There lies a house beneath the sun,
A place where hopes and dreams can run,
A place of warmth and shuttered blinds,
Lilac walls and open minds,
I saw it once, I’m sure I did,
I heard a whisper “Come in” they bid,
And I danced barefoot in the moon lit glaze,
Laughed and sang in the torch lit haze,
Then morning came and all was wrong,
For I was old and my youth was gone,
But I’ll find that place again one day,
And they’ll ask me in and there I’ll stay.