Rain

photo credit: Robert Couse-Baker Maxwell’s demon via photopin (license)

Rain is dreams,

Dreams are light,

Light is goodness

And Goodness

Is drops of rain.

© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Originally Published: 29 August 2014

Penumbra

 

Flecks of colour in the night
Flickers of motion beyond sight.
The glory of memory
Of you and me. Of you and me.
Repetition of this ceremony

Beneath the waves of this sanctuary.
With a touch as cold as the altar stone
And bed a barren ocean where I lay alone
Within this dark. Where outside lights
Dance and tease just out of sight.

No heart’s comfort now you have gone
The hearth is cold within this home,
And in the garden flowers might
Crumble to dust; in this world turned black and white.
 
© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

The Starlight

Silvery stain painted over the night sky,
A river full of light in the far distance
Journeyed across the universe as time passes by.
It glories in the moon’s absence
On this dark night, shining in my eyes.
 
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

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Mantra

photo credit: mantra via photopin (license)

photo credit: mantra via photopin (license)

It’s not worth the worry.
It’s not worth the stress.
It’ll soon be over.
This is as bad as it gets.

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Originally Published 25 July 2015

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Embers

Let us kick off the Review 30 for November with the opening chapter of something I’ve been working on; other than world domination.

Made of sticks and stones

As I said at the beginning of the week I have been working hard on a new project. This has developed out of the final exam project for the University module I completed in the last academic year; a small idea that has grown and grown, this is its beginning.

photo credit: Phoenix rising, with babies via photopin (license) photo credit: Phoenix rising, with babies via photopin(license)

Chapter 1

A shout from one of her clan sisters brought her back to the moment. All the clans were coming together, flying south. She had never seen so many of her own kind before, eighty at least and more shapes appeared on the horizon all the time and slowly coalesced into the distinctive shape of more lizard birds.

Most were brown like her family. Some were grey, the winter sun glinting silver off of gleaming plumage, while others still appeared to sparkle an iridescent blue, light dripping on to their feathers…

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Fragments

The broken skylight
Distorts the view of fractures
Inside the raindrops,

A momentary rainbow
Disappears between the cracks.

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

The sun got lost

The goblins got the blame when the sun failed to rise. Alderman Pickering, said that they had leaned a really long ladder up against the mountain during the night and plucked the sun straight out of the sky as it was rising.

Mr Hobson the village butcher said that was nonsense and it was more likely that one of the fisherman out on the far ocean had caught the sun’s reflection in their net, dragging the reflection down under the water where it was sunk and lost forever. Without a reflection, so Mr Hobson said, the sun would just not be able to shine anymore.

Then there were others who reckoned the sun was tired, shining looked such hard work after all and it would be back in a day or two after it had had a little rest.

But I knew it would never be back. For how could the sun shine down ever again, for last night you said that you did not love me but loved someone else.

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Rain

Day 22 of the 30 Reblogs of November. We are soon to enter the last week of November and it is hard to think of rain in a positive light at this time of year, but here is my attempt at sticking up for the rain…

Made of sticks and stones

Rain is dreams,

Dreams are light,

Light is goodness

And Goodness

Is drops of rain.

View original post

Embers

As I said at the beginning of the week I have been working hard on a new project. This has developed out of the final exam project for the University module I completed in the last academic year; a small idea that has grown and grown, this is its beginning.

Chapter 1

A shout from one of her clan sisters brought her back to the moment. All the clans were coming together, flying south. She had never seen so many of her own kind before, eighty at least and more shapes appeared on the horizon all the time and slowly coalesced into the distinctive shape of more lizard birds.

Most were brown like her family. Some were grey, the winter sun glinting silver off of gleaming plumage, while others still appeared to sparkle an iridescent blue, light dripping on to their feathers like raindrops. While out front, leading them all, a white queen bird flew. Continue reading