inspiration – Page 13 – Hues of Hankinson

To a wild rose……

Bramble Berry

Crabapple jelly

Michaelmas daisies

Just for show.

Radiant roses revived

Through storms survived

Whilst rosehips scattered

On the ground below.

A sliver of sun flitters through the clouds.

©Alison Jean Hankinson

This is for Weekend Mini-Challenge at imaginary garden with real toads

Pioneering hands.

These fragile hands

They carved our lives

Toiled and tilled the land

Weathered storms to thrive

Ensured we survived.

In dreams we built in stone

Sodhouses we were to call home

These weathered palms

Supported and grew

Maintained our farm

Brought strength anew

Enabled hope to shine through.

Prairie-land homesteaders

Mid-west pioneers.

©Alison Jean Hankinson

Image from Wikimedia- creative commons labelled for reuse.

For d’Verse.

Harvest moon

Oh, heavenly night

Silver star-spun light

Shimmers across the sea.

The moon lingers low

My heart is aglow

Oh, heavenly night.

The air crisp and cold

Chills of autumn nights unfold

Shimmers across the sea.

Shooting stars above

Fill my heart with love

Oh, heavenly night.

As my worries and fears take flight

Cascades of phosphorescent light

Shimmer across the sea.

Free my spirit soars

Harvest moon adored.

Oh, heavenly night

Shimmers across the sea.

©Alison Jean Hankinson.

I change not…

As a leopard cannot change it’s spots

I cannot change, no matter what

I am that I am and was

I am a sea of hope

Wave of salvation

Breathing new life

To your dreams

Me.

Alison’s response to Vivian’s opening of the nonet.

This was for Jilly’s challenge- Casting Bricks to Attract Jade.

The first part of the nonet was from Vivian and this is my completion…

Whispers of madness.

White walls, empty Halls

Echoes of silenced pain and lives put on eternal hold.

Unmarried asylum seekers in days of old

Imprisoned indefinitely to save their souls.

Families wanted them hidden away

To arrest society’s decay

Often damaged not decadent

Guilty of innocence rather than indolence.

Incest often lead to childbirth and illegitimacy

They were declared insane because of forced intimacy

What madness masqueraded within

When authority had power and victims powerless remained?

©Alison Jean Hankinson

I am putting this into d’Verse open link night. I wrote it last year when I reflected on how things had changed so much in terms of attitudes to mental health. These women were often asylum seekers and deserved better than they got.

I have been working this year with families and carers in crisis, who have a loved one experiencing psychosis and Bi-polar.

Image- Woman In A Psychiatric Ward With Two Dolls. Stock Photo, Picture in public domain.

Kaos

Butterfly jitterbug

Scantily across the mildewed road

Sordid sounds of rank and file

Perturbed the air

Candyfloss tears

Mistaken identities

Purriri moth in damson tree.

When the wind blows cold

I shall wear my purple hat

Forgive me.

This is for d’Verse.….mmmm have no idea if this is right…

The image is from flickr by Pamela Kelly.

Driving through Dallam Estate.

It was a beautiful start to October, a little bit of chill in the early morning air and some dew on the grass. In the garden across the road there is an array of spider webs, which glisten in the dew. I haven’t dared to photograph them as I don’t want to disturb the neighbours and having me trample through their garden with my trusty camera might indeed be disturbing.

We spent some time at Heversham visiting family and came back through Dallam Park, it is beautiful at this time of year, with the trees turning and that warm soft afternoon sun. The Deer were quite low down and there were pheasants in abundance. I know that some people find them frustrating as they can damage garden beds, but I love to see them in all their splendour foraging in the shrubbery and grass for spiders and seeds.

Fall’s frail web of lace

Reminiscent of first frost

Pheasants chase spiders.

Haibun for d’Verse.

The spider web image was available to use in the public domain from pixabay, the other photographs were taken yesterday driving through Dallam Park.

The Four Last Songs. Music and Chaos.

A cadenza shrill and sharp

Pizzicato from the harp

Andante and legato

Swan song from the cello.

Clefs, chords and counterpoint

From fiery exposition to development

Magnificent muti-tonal orchestration

Tumultuous recapitulation.

Finally four last songs

Lamenting loss, lyrical and forlorn

Musical maverick Strauss is gone

The garden mourns.

This is for Real Toads, where the theme is Chaos. Bjorn talked of physics and mathematics, and it brought me round to music. Music is very mathematical and can be very precise and beauty and precision is borne from weaving together many delicate strands. It reminded me of two great twentieth-century composers who pushed music to its chaotic and mathematical limits. Alban Berg and Richard Strauss. Alban Berg’s Violin concerto is a masterpiece of mathematical precision, but I opted for Richard Strauss’s Four Last Songs. The final line is from these and is the first line of September, written by Hermann Hesse.

These are my late September images…

Last day of September.

Raucous russet leaves

Brambles burgeoning with berries

Onset of October.

Sunrise earlier this week and trees and berries today, perhaps a little hopeful on “burgeoning” These are my small things. They make my world spin. I am linking this to real toads midweek challenge.