BAM. And her problems went away.
colourful fish –
a fragmented rainbow
gentle swing of waves
simmering seashells are doused
by the coolest blues
(Image courtesy of Pixabay)
gifted upon the earth
cold diamonds –
a glint of fury
in her eyes
a dark force stirring
in the breeze
Written for Carpe Diem #1339 The Merchant and the Genius
Note: Inspired by the Arabian Nights story “The Merchant and the Genie”. While our modern concept of “genie” is pretty narrow, the djinn of Arabian myth were dark, enigmatic creatures. For more djinni fiction see my microfiction tale The Djinni.
the stars mirrored
in glints of cooling sand
Written for Carpe Diem #1338 The Arabian Nights
The sky was a shimmering periwinkle. I watched as tears fell from the blue, soft and bright as molten diamonds.
“The moon is crying,” my mother said. She gathered my basket of seashells in her arms and set off across the sand.
“Why does the moon cry?” I asked.
Those same tears fell each night but I’d always thought them beautiful, not sad.
“The moon has always loved the sun, and yet they will never share the same sky. She holds onto whatever light he might spare her when his burning is done, but she is otherwise alone.”
“She’s not alone – she has the stars!”
My mother smiled. “And there are so many stars in the sky, are there not? And we, the people, adore her, do we not? Our poetry for the night sky is endless.”
I looked to the night sky and for the first time I did not marvel at the moon’s beauty. I did not wonder at her mysteriousness, or envy her as the queen of the night. I pitied the moon, and I pitied her well.
I hugged the seashells to my chest and searched the sky for the brightest star. When I found him I made a wish. I wished that, one day, the moon and the sun would finally share the same sky.
(Image courtesy of Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo)
sunlight and leaves
Written for Carpe Diem #1336 Elegance
Fear pulsed through the wicked night,
for the sky was bewitched with amethyst light
One by one they fell from that sky,
burning like stars in an endless flight
They, a shower of raven hearts,
burning black on this wicked night
(Image credit: Emily Morter via Unsplash)
Written for Three Line Tales Week 99