Portrait of Lady Agnew of Lochnaw (1865-1932) by John Singer Sargent, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
Never Prim
Prim
Not she
Reposed so
Raising eyebrows
She flouts decorum
A curve of thigh exposed
Draped like silk upon her chair
She dares me to risk her boldness
My paintbrush craves her devil may care
Spellbound, I tarry, swayed by temptation
The authenticity of her essence
Her rebuff of feminine bindings
My colors bow to her allure
A force to be reckoned with
She teases with her smile
My intrepid muse
Her brazen gaze
Scandalous
Never
Prim
Isn’t this an amazing piece of art? To me, Lady Agnew’s posture and expression convey a dauntless challenge to acknowledge her power, her being. I wondered what the artist thought. Did he expect a woman properly dignified, stiff, and prim? Did he love her dare as much as she?
I love these Ekphrastic challenges. Ekphrastic poetry is written in response to a piece of art. Colleen chose this prompt after seeing it on Rebecca Budd’s blog: Chasing Art.
I wrote a stacked/double etheree, which is comprised of twenty lines with a syllable count per line of 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10, 10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1. This poem looks like a diamond.
To read more responses to the challenge, learn about syllabic poetry, or submit your own poem, stop by Colleen’s blog: Wordcraft Poetry.
I’m on the road today, visiting two blogs. Comments are closed here, but you can catch me at one or both.
First Stop:
Sally Cronin, blogger and writer extraordinaire, is sharing posts from our 2022 archives and today’s my turn. She’s a wonderful supporter of our community, and on the off chance that you haven’t visited her eclectic site, I encourage you to stop by. Today, she’s sharing my post from last summer’s vacation: “Canadian Rockies Haiku.”
Second Stop:
I’m also hanging out at Story Empire with another post on “Writing the End.” This month I’m sharing 7 out of 14 tips for writing a satisfying ending to our stories. If you have the time or interest, I invite you to stop by to check out the post and browse posts on a wide variety of writing-related topics by some talented authors: “Writing the End, Part IV“
Thanks for the visit, and I’ll see you around! Have a beautiful week.
My “Weekend Blog Share” is turning out to be a monthly blog share. Yeesh. I love sharing the beautiful work of other bloggers, but sometimes life gets a little frantic.
Well, it’s the weekend, and today I’m delighted to share a short piece of poetic prose from Layla Todd of Nin Chronicles. Her writing is simply luscious, and I had a hard time picking something from so many beautiful options!
I’ve closed comments here and hope you’ll head to Layla’s to finish reading. And check out her lovely poetry while you’re there. ❤
*****
Touch of Midnight
by Layla Todd
The moonlight makes shadows dance across the lawn and fills the valleys between the hills in my backyard with pools of silken darkness. Dew is gathering on the grass, and I am walking in the cool beneath the fruit trees watching the fireflies spark like stars in the expanse of land around me. When I step on blossoms fallen from the flowering fruit trees, perfume fragrances my skin.
The forest line rises to my left. The creek gurgles quietly as it snakes its way through the woods. A large splotch of soft shadow just ahead….
I’ve never met a gargoyle before, let alone interviewed one, so despite the invite, I’m a little nervous when it shows up at my door. It’s one thing to make it a character in my novella. It’s entirely another to look into those shiny black eyes in person.
The gray monster is the size of a five-year-old but looks like it could bench-press my car. It has horns, claws, and leathery batwings, complete with hooks at the joints. Pointy yellow teeth jut from its thin-lipped muzzle, and I hope it’s friendly.
I’m tempted to call the whole thing off, but behind him, a pretty brown-skinned character is sweeping her long dreadlocks behind her shoulders. She’s wearing an India-print skirt, love beads, and combat boots, and a giant jar of peanut butter is tucked under one arm. She sticks out her hand. “I’m Tali.”
I reach over the gargoyle and shake her hand at neck height. “It’s nice to meet you in person. Thanks for coming with…”
“Zaahmaazigh,” the creature says.
Tali smiles. “You can just call him Zam.”
“It’s a he?”
“Apparently. Though, to be honest, I haven’t checked.”
I invite them in. Zam waddles past me and claws his way onto my sofa. Tali plops down next to him and opens her jar. “He’s always hungry. He loves Girl Scout cookies, but since he eats with his mouth open, crumbs get everywhere. This will hold him over without the mess. I think.”
The gargoyle digs his clawed fingers into the peanut butter and smears it into his mouth, mostly.
“Well, let’s get started.” I peel my gaze from the spectacle and open my notepad, ready to write his answers. “Thanks for dropping by, Zam. Can you tell me a little about yourself?”
“Oh, sorry!” Tali tucks a stray dread behind her ear. “I can understand him a little, but yes or no questions work best.”
I look down at my useless questions, unsurprised. “Okay, Zam, let’s start here. From what I understand, you were a prisoner of the serpent god Damballah.”
“Sss.”
Tali translates, “That means yes.”
“And it was a voodoo prayer written in the margins of your mother’s Bible that freed you into our time.”
“Sss.”
“1972, actually,” Tali clarifies. “The book was hidden in a cottage next to a lighthouse. I read the passage, and the next thing I know, Zam shows up. He freaked me out. And Daballah was worse. That’s one scary god you do not want to cross.”
“Uff.”
“That means no.” She shrugs as Zam shoves his whole hand into the jar and licks his knobby knuckles. “I think Zam’s grateful for everything that happened. Speaking for myself, I could have done without the whole psycho ordeal.”
“So, Zam,” I ask, “did you enjoy being the star of the story?”
“Sss. Algae Eeggh sauv Zaahm.”
“Aww.” Tali rubs the gargoyle’s head between his horns. “He calls me Algae. And that Egg sound is Greg. He’s saying we saved him. But he saved us too. It’s a cool story when it isn’t terrifying.”
“Sauv boag.”
“Yup, we saved the boat too. We think. Time travel can get tricky.”
I watch Zam’s long tongue polish the inside of the jar. “Well, I don’t want you two to give too much away. Let’s see…. Here’s a question. Can you actually fly with those wings?
The gargoyle’s wings twitch but remain folded against his back. He eyeballs my kitchen. “Oood?”
“No more food.” Tali hustles to her feet and clutches Zam’s hand. “We should go before he raids your fridge. Or asks Damballah to suck us all into a nightmare adventure. You wouldn’t believe the potential for disaster, and once he starts….”
The creature’s lower jaw juts, and his eyes narrow into obsidian slits. A guttural growl rumbles from his chest. Tali crouches and whispers into one of his flattened ears, “I have Thin Mint cookies in the bug for the trip back to Harbor Pointe.”
Zam’s long ears perk up. He leaps from the sofa, and his hand rips from Tali’s grasp. His black wings flap, knocking over a lamp and upending a chair as he scrambles for the door. “Oogeez!”
“Hey, a new word!” Tali tosses me a grin and scurries after him. “Zam, wait!”
They’re gone in a flash, and I’m sitting on the sofa, wondering what just happened. As Tali’s VW bug chugs down the driveway, I right the furniture and throw the empty jar into the recycling bin. Back to editing. Now I know why this book is so out of control.
Today’s my day to host John Howell and rave about his new paranormal thriller, The Last Drive. John is one of my colleagues at Story Empire where he shares his knowledge about the craft of writing. If you’ve visited his active blog, you already know he writes flash fiction, shares the goings-on in his neighborhood, as well as good news from around the world. He’s also the dad of two adorable pups: Lucy and Twiggy.
I’ve read and reviewed ALL of John’s fiction including this one, which I snagged as soon as it came out. My review is below, but before we go there: Here’s John:
****
I am so pleased to be with you today, Diana. Thank you for helping spread the word about The Last Drive. You are such an accomplished author, and I have to tell you The Necromancer’s Daughter was one of the best books I have read. I’m not usually a fantasy reader but the blurb for your book had me hooked. You also read and review an impressive number of books which causes me to wonder when you have time to write. By the way, your review of The Last drive put a smile on my face and a spring in my step, and I appreciate your lovely words. Needless to say, I’m a big fan of yours, but I guess I should be talking about the book now.!
Here is the blurb and then we can get to a short excerpt from the book.
The Blurb
In the sequel to Eternal Road – The final stop, Sam and James are reunited to look for two souls, Ryan and Eddie. Ryan was killed in Afghanistan, trying to avoid a schoolyard with his crippled plane. Eddie Rickenbacker, Ryan’s hero, is to guide Ryan to his Eternal Home, and now both are missing.
The higher-ups believe that there has been some interference in Ryan and Eddie’s journey by Lucifer, so Sam and James have the task of finding Ryan and Eddie to get them back on the road despite the evil interference. Unfortunately, the machinations designed to prevent Ryan and Eddy from completing their journey take the pair to horrifying testing grounds. The places visited represent the best work of the Devil. They are the trenches of World War I in France, gladiators at the Roman Coliseum, the sinking Titanic in 1912, Hiroshima 45 minutes before the bomb, and the Auschwitz concentration camp in 1943.
This book is for you if you like plenty of action, strong characters, time travel, and a touch of spiritual and historical fiction. So, join Sam and James as they try to find the missing souls while staying one step ahead of the Prince of Darkness, who is determined to destroy all that is good.
An Excerpt
“Ah, shit. Now you’ve gone and ruined my fun.”
Sam takes a couple of steps toward Buddy. “Who are you?”
“A servant of the devil.”
Sam glowers. “What are you doing here?”
Buddy raises his hand in an affable manner. “Well, I heard you two were out hunting for a couple of lost souls, and I thought it would be a lot of fun to see if I could cause some mayhem.”
“We certainly don’t need that, and I don’t believe you for one minute. Show yourself.”
Buddy frowns. “Don’t say that.”
Sam shrugs. “Why not?”
“Because when you say that, I have to show myself, and I don’t want to.”
“Show yourself.”
The form of Buddy Holly fades, and a curtain of vapor rises to obscure the illusion. The fog dissipates and reveals a hunched troll. James waves the rest of the steam away and bends his knees to look the apparition in the eyes.
The creature demands, “What are you looking at?”
James laughs. “I see a little silhouette of a man.”
“Sing me a song, why don’t you.”
James spreads his arms and turns his palms up. “Okay,
I give. Who are you?”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope. No kidding.”
Sam touches James’s shoulder. “I believe this is a messenger of the devil.”
The figure brightens. “Hey, sweetheart, you got a brain in that beautiful head of yours.”
James turns to Sam. “Is this a joke?”
Sam nods. “In a way. This is a human-like form. You know-who likes to pull little tricks. Remember when I said there was a spirit about? It’s this little squirt.”
The figure stamps his foot. “Who you calling a squirt, bitch?”
“My, my, he has the tongue of the devil.”
James grabs the troll by the shirt. The creature touches James, and a strong shock knocks him to the floor.
James scrambles to his feet. “Try that again, squirt.”
“Be happy to. Just come a little closer.”
Sam puts herself between the two. “Okay, let’s knock it off. What is it you want here?”
“I only have one thing to do, and then I’m free. Would you like to go out later?”
Sam shakes her head. “What do you have to do?”
“Deliver a message from His Lordship.”
“Deliver away.”
“His Lordship would like you to join him for dinner tonight.”
James pulls at Sam’s arm. “Here we go again.”
Sam shrugs James’s hand away. “What James is trying to say is we’ve been through this song and dance before. Go tell your boss we’re not interested in anything he has to say.”
Trailer
Universal Buy Links
The Last Drive is available in paper and Kindle editions on Amazon.
The Kindle edition is on sale for 99¢ through mid-February.
This book follows the adventures of Sam and James of The Eternal Road, but it stands alone perfectly well with the same level of imagination and detail. Spirits James and Sam return to the Eternal Road to search for Ryan, a recently deceased pilot, and his guide Eddie. The two men have gone off track while looking for Ryan’s eternal home. Lucifer has his fingerprints all over this book as he’s determined to have Ryan “join his team.”
Similar to the first book, the search takes Sam and James, and eventually Ryan and Eddie, to quite a few major events in time including the first Super Bowl, the California gold rush, 9/11, the sinking of the Titanic, and the horrors of Auschwitz. Some places they travel to on their own, but in most cases, Lucifer sends them there, wanting them to trade Ryan’s soul for a reprieve.
In some ways, Sam and James are on a quest, tasked with challenges they need to puzzle out as they operate in the past without changing the future. The directive not to fiddle with the future generates some heartbreaking scenes and tough moral decisions. Howell’s research into the tragedies of the past is notable, and there are some brutal scenes including sexual abuse.
Any heaviness in the book is initially countered by Lucifer. He’s sarcastic, snarky, and completely without verbal restraint, at the very least. His banter, particularly with Sam, was entertaining, though it became easier and easier to completely dislike him toward the end. The plot doesn’t follow a straight line, nor is it always logical, but it’s highly imaginative and recommended for fans of fantastical stories about the afterlife.
Author Bio
John is an award-winning author who after an extensive business career began writing full time in 2012. His specialty is thriller fiction novels, but John also writes poetry and short stories. He has written Six other books that are on Amazon in paperback and Kindle editions.
John lives in Lakeway, Texas with his wife and their spoiled rescue pets.
Within a day of publication, Hidden in Childhood: A Poetry Anthology shot up to Amazon’s #1 spot in Poetry Anthologies and remained there for five days.
The anthology was a massive undertaking by Gabriela Marie Milton of Literary Revelations. It includes the work of over 150 poets from around the world, a compilation of more than 280 poems. Within its pages, I see many names I recognize: Basilike Pappa, Jeff Flesch, Alethea Kehas, Cindy Georgakas, Eric Daniel Clarke, Jaya Avendel, and Jude Itakali, to name a few.
I’m honored to have two poems included in this collection: Upon the Death of my Mother, and Stratton Pond.
Gabriela, a poet of immense talent, included one poem of her own in the anthology that I’d like to share here:
Blurb: Hidden in Childhood
From authors featured on NPR, BBC, and the New York Times, and from emerging poets, comes a monumental anthology in which every poem sends shivers down your spine. Childhood’s joy and trauma expressed – with stunning talent and sincerity – by over 150 poets in more than 280 poems. Childhood spaces magnified by the human memory, populated by good and bad, by trips to hell and heaven, in an almost Hieronymus Bosch type of atmosphere. Over 150 voices call you to read this book. Read it. You will learn that childhood never goes away. You will be reminded of the beauty of the seraphim and the need to protect children from any form of abuse. 150 voices knock on your door. Open the door. A chorus of childhoods will tell you that our children need love.
Literary Revelations is proud to bring you this anthology and deeply grateful to all contributors for pouring out their hearts into the pages of this book.
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I’m delighted to help spread the word. Thanks for stopping by!
Myths of the Mirror 