Photo and Art Prompts to Inspire Creativity in all Forms
For artists, bloggers, poets, writers and students

Photo Prompt: Untitled Instance of Light

Photo Title: Untitled Instance of Light © Elinor Scott-Sutter
A Garden of the Ordinary
Visit her blog site to see additional photos.
And, her Etsy site: equivoque
The photographer lives in Minneapolis, Minnesota, and specializes
in polaroid photography.

Photo used with permission from Elinor Scott-Sutter.


Michelle said...

She watched him in the darkness.

In that instant of time she felt the iciness surrounding her frozen heart thaw, and in the still of the night her hand crept out from beneath the sheets, almost of its own violition, towards his sleeping face.

Forgiveness was now possible.

Meandering Michael said...

Before Children
Nothing is as heavenly as
a soft pillow
fresh crisp sheets
sleeping deeply
dreaming gaily
waking softly
a warm sun
songbirds singing a lovers' duet

To sleep: perchance to dream.

After Children
Nothing is as hellish as
wailing children
runny noses
a tear-soaked pillow
a snoring partner
cold feet
having to pee
all hours of the night
just when you have a moment to
lie down
close your eyes
imagine a moment's rest

Perchance to dream of sleep.

Lisa said...

and if she slept......she would forget.........

Faith said...

how can I across
the white the light
that falls against you
and me and separates
all we have ever been

Renee said...

It is super obvious to me that no wool can be pulled over your eyes.

Yes, they are little love letters so that when I am dead and gone, they will remember me and what I thought of them.


Love Renee

glorv1 said...

I don't see what your other reader's see. Her finger reminds me of my middle finger.

As she sleeps she is reminded of how her middle finger wants to lock in place if she bends it, so she tries to keep it straight and slightly apart from the others. Tomorrow when she gets the xray on her finger she will know she has what they call "Trigger Finger."

Have a great Friday.

Renee said...

Kisses and hugs. I was talking about you to one of my daughters (Angelique) tonight.

I was saying that there are a few people I feel very close to.



Anonymous said...

(poem by Therese L. Broderick of Albany, NY, USA)


kiss the maiden
statue that you love
because you
carved her arms,
draped them in white,

polished her elbows with
the hand you were born
to work with

and she will awaken
one probing
bone at a time,
finger by finger,



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