At Sunrise

Photography by Al Forbes

The sun stretches across the silken drape
In dawns of awareness there’s no escape
A breath of life in the darkness of sleep
With the sensual arousal of a dream
As confused euphoric tears gently weep
For the love that has come to find its voice
In the disarray of a world of change
As the past confounds in misinformed choice
With futures where all things seem new and strange
In new beginnings thoughts and dreams exchange
The ways that delve beyond deeper than deep
As the art of love takes a different shape
Acceptance replaces the panicking scream
And the soul of love once more can rejoice





© JG Farmer 2013

Prompt: : http://kattermonran.com/2013/10/19/weekly-photo-challenge-what-are-hue-looking-for/

The Portal

The Squealer by Al Forbes

The blast of dated muzak drowns out the excited echoes from below as each spin turns faster and higher. You and I look at each other knowingly. The time of destiny is coming. Our time with the squealing Earth dwellers is at an end. They call us carnies, gypsies and travelers as they look for a quick thrill.

Indeed we are travelers. As the spinning gets faster we feel the vortex approaching. The air turns cold as the ride reaches its highest point. It is then we feel the grasp of the portal take us through time, flying into a distant dimension. At last we are going home.

© J Farmer 2013

Prompt: http://kattermonran.com/2013/10/13/photo-fiction-the-squealer/

The Gathering

Photography by Al Forbes

Peering in the gaps they could see him, captive behind the red barrier. He had fallen down the abyss. It hadn’t eaten him as they thought it would, he wasn’t the next sacrifice in homage to the flightless bipeds. They tsked and tutted on how their mothers were always warning them to stay away from the edge and now they understood why. So busy in their chattering they had not noticed their buddy had fallen silent – suddenly a panic set in fearing he was dead. They peered into the darkness to nothing. Chaotic wings flapped against the wall to no avail. They didn’t hear the laughter from on the roof, the laughter of a pigeon with pale plumage bedecked with grime and dust.

© J Farmer 2013

Prompt: http://kattermonran.com/2013/10/06/photo-fiction-pigeon-pie/

By the Clock

Photography by Al Forbes

‘By the clock’ she said, so I waited for the girl with saffron hair. I waited for the girl carrying a newspaper while listening to the chatter of the passers-by. The scowling mothers dragging howling toddlers through old London town and lovers on their way to a show. The minutes passed and I watched the pigeons swooping down to grasp a crumb. The minutes passed until it was too late and I sat drinking coffee before going home. Drinking coffee and listening to the girl on my mobile phone repeating the night’s events at the Rovers. Mother had got caught up watching reruns of Coronation Street again.

© J Farmer 2013

Prompt: http://alastairsphotofiction.wordpress.com/2013/09/29/photo-fiction-september-29th-2013/