Opal Reflections
Perspectives through Prose, Poetry and Photography
Category: Creative Writing
Prose and Poetry
Burnt Orange
Between the ink-black night and brand new day, Before the bright white sun’s in blinding play, Burnt orange sliver, then a band, seeps through, The light year, far-off fire flames anew, The solar star so distant, yet, the key, to who and why and… Continue Reading “Burnt Orange”
Sculpted Sand
Sun-slaked sand welcomes the onrush of wet, cool, ocean waves. All too soon, the water recedes, leaving only damp creases in its wake.
An Engineer’s Journal: April, 1978… “Tuning My Piano”
A new installment in “An Engineer’s Journal”, on leaving one company for another, while seeking perfect pitch.
In Vino Veritas
The television screen appears to be suspended, as if “afloat” in my crystal goblet. In truth, world events are a bit easier to take, when viewed through the softening prism of a glass of my favorite Cabernet.
Buildings
Buildings, sparkling, bask in setting light, Seem cold, unliving, as they stand upright. Whilst deep within live hidden trials of souls, Ten thousand-fold, their stories seldom told. Behind the glaziers’ walls, hide deepest fears, Enjoining business mates ‘neath masks of cheer. Until return to shield of… Continue Reading “Buildings”
The Dark Before The Dawn
On this Good Friday, we are reminded that it is always darkest, before the dawn.
Masque Macabre
He hangs ‘mid relics borne of eons past, Not clown, but macabre monster might he be, For ‘neath the fearful fangs and horned masque, True countenance, though hidden well, we see. Photo Friday: Â Intense
Ephemeral
Pausing for a second at the door, Out corner of my eye, motion in the snow, I stay to watch, foregoing busy chores, The foraging of fawns and bucks and doe. Bearing silent witness to their show at times, I’m blessed to catch a glimpse, unseen,… Continue Reading “Ephemeral”
Night Vision
Stark dreams that come (un-asked for) in my sleep, Disturb my psyche, cause my soul to burn, Searing my distress, though buried deep, Predicting days ahead, doubt’s wild return. I am alarmed, I wake, I toss and turn, Attempt to understand the tongues they… Continue Reading “Night Vision”
Maternal Instinct
It’s sad to watch the roaming deer, foraging through our yard for any sustenance amid the frozen environs. Even the bird-bath is a solid block of ice. Holly leaves and bird-seed must suffice. But those eyes….
Lighthouse in the Mist, Cape May, NJ
Bandit
Festive View from the Pub, Peddler’s Village – Lahaska, PA.
Home Sweet Home
Opal Reflections 