‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge Week #23 Entry Part 1) by John Howell @HowellWave and Suzanne Burke @pursoot #IARTG #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity #FlashFiction

Hello everyone and a warm welcome to Part 1)  of the entries for my weekly: “Fiction in A Flash Challenge” Week #23

Today I’m featuring contributions from entry 1)By John Howell and Entry 2) My own contribution.

Last week I set the following Challenge:

Hello everyone and welcome to my new “Fiction in A Flash Challenge!” Each week I’ll be featuring an image and inviting you to write a Flash Fiction or Non-Fiction piece inspired by that image in any format and genre of your choosing.  Maximum word count: 750 words.

Here is the image prompt.

This one line contribution by John Howell.

“My worry right now m’love is if this lone parachute will save us both not about my hair if we get wet.”

John Howell can be reached here …

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My own Contribution

Canyon of Dreams

My soul soars high on thermal winds
as I gaze enraptured at earth below.
I watch as the mother gently moves beneath me
caressed by mist in cold blue skies.
Deep valleys of muted green, whisper secrets,
as softly, softly … the mother sighs
Leaf-laden branches like lover’s arms reach out
to hold and cherish the enfolding light.

As Fall breezes chase through her canyons
swirling leaves of amber and gold come dancing
in a twirling tango they move entrancing
falling through corridors of color
to settle softly on the moisture laden soil
that lay untouched below her patch-work canopy
where the air is sweet and cool,
Muted perfume of liquid amber and pine
with scent of velvet moss and peat combine.

Through endless stretch of bracken fern
on blankets of golden leaf and pine
the dappled glow of daylight, at last begins to shine.

Whilst close by
the diamond water sparkles, running wild and free
as in suicidal-dance they hurtle downward
as they have for all eternity. Over steep ledges
worn by time, the sound thunders as they fall
to create a bridal-veil of mist,
rebounding off the canyon wall.

Whilst high above on sandstone castles
The proud eagle surveys his domain
with hunter’s eyes and talons sharpened
He launches into the fall skies.
His prey begins a fruitless journey
to escape his hunters grasp or die.
The sudden cries of hunter’s jubilation
mesh with screams of capitulation
echo off steep walls as old as time.

In this paradise I am the uninvited
humbled to witness such perfection,
as yet untarnished by the hand of man.
This endures and will continue
long after frail bodies turn to dust.
If we can but respect her, the mother will remain,
to soothe our troubled minds and regain our trust.
We who ask her the riddles of all man’s seasons.
and discover there are no answers left to find. 

The seasons of change are upon us.

***

Thanks so much for joining me here today. I look forward to seeing your comments. I will as always featuring each new contribution as I receive them.

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