In purest form; good is a quiet force.
Profoundly shaping our world,
by guiding decisions.
In acts of kindness that go unnoticed,
generosity can flow
without expectation.
Revealing itself in the everyday.
Even when no one’s watching.
Good surpasses evil.
In purest form; good is a quiet force.
The generosity flows.
Good surpasses evil.
By Sarah ©2024
W3 Prompt #120:
Wea’ve Written Weekly
amidst the vast
expanse of night
she sat alone
by a river
the stillness
of the water
mirrored her
s i l e n c e
as she held tight
the secrets that
stretched endlessly
through the novel world
she faced
the profound darkness
unable to shake
the ache in her heart
…instead,
immersed in its wake
By Sarah ©2024
The Sunday Whirl:
Wordle 667
here in
the shallows
I drift
mingling with
the words
I shift
the spell is dimmed
now we’re apart
coldness seeps
and chills my heart
you call me
and my fingers twitch
averting gaze
I play the bitch
shattered phone
now on the ground
my humble heart
it beats, too proud…
By Sarah ©2024
For this week’s Sunday Stills I couldn’t resist sharing three splashes of gold I encountered recently on the Box Vale Walking Track in the Southern Highlands, NSW.
Sunday Stills: #Nature’s Golden Yellows
patchwork pieces
invisible fences
hostility,
screaming
its assault
these veins snake
across the red dirt;
a bloodline
for the people
who live here
By Sarah ©2024
Life’s
moments –
intricate
realisations.
Interpretations;
individually,
and delicately crafted.
Not manufactured. Not handmade.
But considered… inspirational.
Life’s moments. Intricate realisations.
By Sarah ©2024
Sammi Scribbles:
Weekend Writing Prompt, #376 – handmade (20 words)
A reblog of a very early Haibun, to fit Robbie’s guidelines this week:
W3 Prompt #119:
Wea’ve Written Weekly
Those who talk in haste,
lay most words to waste.
All brazen and bold-faced,
yet often, slow to act…
By Sarah ©2024
Ronovan Writes:
Ovi Poetry Challenge – haste
in the gloaming
of the evening,
when the world
seems to hold
its breath,
an ominous heat
begins to rise
from the shadows
the air grows thick,
in unfathomable tension,
as though the very
fabric of reality
is about to unravel
cunning eyes glint
with malevolent intent,
casting long shadows
endlessly stretching
to the encroaching despair
a chilling certainty
of what’s to come
demons with flickering wings
emerge from the darkness;
their presence, signalling
an omen
the end
By Sarah ©2024
The Sunday Whirl:
Wordle 666
Shrugging off its nighttime shawl,
across the skies, dawn begins to crawl.
Indebted day, is held in thrall.
Through crisp morning air, beginning small,
a defray of kookaburras
release their call…
By Sarah ©2024
Sammi Scribbles:
Weekend Writing Prompt, #375 – defray (31 words)
Image credit:
Damien Sanchez via Pexels
beer tasting
a malty mouth feeling
…who’s shouting?
By Sarah ©2024
By Sarah 