The exercise:
Here's your prompt for today:
I took that before dinner on Christmas Eve at Kat's parents, but feel free to place it anytime and anywhere. I think this was one of the first pictures I used my tripod for and I liked how it came out.
Mine:
Six will sit down to dinner tonight,
Their faces warmed by soft candlelight.
Six glasses will be filled by the host,
Who shall then propose a wordy toast -
The waver in his voice only slight.
He sits back down, his speech concluded.
Drinks are sipped by guests so deluded,
Then one by one they fall into sleep
And collapse to the floor in a heap;
The host can no more be excluded.
6 comments:
That's a lovely picture, nicely done! And I can see that the light levels would have needed the tripod for the length of the exposure.
That said, your poem comes across as slightly creepy and predatory! I like it, don't get me wrong, but it's definitely not what I'd expected looking at the picture. I guess we all think different ways though :)
I did like the limerick rhyming scheme too, it's not one you often use. Are you all ready for the Winter Tournament then?
Mine:
I wait for guests,
Set for six, but not yet adorned.
When people arrive,
I shall come alive,
Food will thread my centre,
And conversation will rise
From a murmur,
To a chatter,
To the laughter,
Of socialisation at its fondest.
This is my purpose,
My task, at which I excel,
To support food well
And friendships better.
So draw up a seat and join us,
Converse and eat, break bread
In our happy house.
Your blog keeps getting better and better! Your older articles are not as good as newer ones you have a lot more creativity and originality now keep it up!
Plates set
Chairs are waiting
Soon the guests will arrive
Fairy lights glow at the window
Wine bottles stand guard, ready for duty.
The phone rings. Roads are closed, perhaps
Staying home would be best.
Another time.
Plates set.
It is a lovely picture. And I've always been partial to little white lights. Interesting poem - reminds me never to forget who invited me.
A set table is full of possibilities. Someone has gone to the trouble of inviting guests, preparing food, planning an encounter. The wine glasses and chairs wait to be filled. An hour from now, a woman that looks like a 21st Century Jackie O. makes a toast and the other guests smile their approval. Everyone is wrapped in the embrace of being wanted, invited, chosen. The air is thick with the smell of roast beef and fresh bread and something else, anticipation perhaps, that perfect combination of appetite and desire and the expectation of something good.
I used to walk the old neighborhood at dusk imagining this scene over and over in the lit windows of people I didn’t know. They were always waiting for their friends and families to come fill their tables and share their wine. Their rooms looked so warm and inviting.
Greg - thanks, and... I seem to be enjoying the unexpected recently :)
And good lord, no I'm not ready. But I'm sure it'll come together alright.
That's a great little alternative perspective poem you've got there. I see you're ready to be unleashed again :)
Anon the first - yeah, as I've been going through the old stuff I've found some really cringe worthy stuff, haha.
But thank you very much for your kind words and encouragement!
Morganna - ah, nicely done! And I quite like that format, I'll have to make use of it soon.
Anon the second - thanks very much and me too (re: the white lights).
I know exactly what you mean about wondering what goes on in neighbours houses. I only hope such a warm and cozy scene lies hidden inside each one!
Marc: The format is called a rictameter.
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