This
meme was started by Delores a long time ago. Computer issues led her
to bow out for a while. The meme was too much fun to let go, and now
Words for Wednesday is provided by a number of people and has become a
movable feast.
Essentially
the aim is to encourage us to write. Each week we are given a choice
of prompts: which can be words, phrases, music or an image. What we
do with those prompts is up to us: a short story, prose, a song, a
poem, or treating them with ignore... We can use some or all of the
prompts, and mixing and matching is encouraged.
Some
of us put our creation in comments on the post, and others post on
their own blog. I would really like it if as many people as possible
joined into this fun meme, which includes cheering on the other participants. If you are posting on your own blog - let me know so that I, and other participants, can come along and applaud.
Huge thanks to River for providing the prompts last month. The prompts will be here again this month and are provided by Sean Jeating.
This week's prompts are:
- church,
- hazel,
- hollow,
- red,
- whirlpool
- cave,
- Mary,
- near,
- rapid,
- white
Charlotte (MotherOwl) has given us Pebble Grey as the colour of the month. If you can also incorporate it into your stories she (and I) will be grateful.
Have fun.
Will be working on it.
ReplyDeletemessymimi: I look forward to seeing where they take you.
DeleteLooking forward to your story.
DeleteIt's over here.
DeleteThe white water of the rapid carried Mary into the near by cave.
ReplyDeleteMike: I do hope that the rapids allow her to get out again.
Delete... where Mike had been waiting for her.
DeleteHa ha ... well done Mike - I hope she was what you wanted ... cheers Hilary
DeleteOh Mary, what is to become of you?
DeleteGood job Mike.
DeleteNicely done, including the comments.
DeleteMary’s heart racing at the whirlpool ahead…
DeleteHer hazel eyes, though lovely, were unfortunately hollow, devoid of any emotion other than trauma. She sought solace each time she went to the church. She didn't know what she sought, but all she saw was a whirlpool of herself drifting in a river running red and rapid alongside pebble grey shores. Each time she'd glace up to the statue of Mary hoping to find some solace but all she could think of was an ever imposing cave. She felt faint, passing out yet another time, and all she saw in her minds eye was white nothingness.
ReplyDeleteLinda Starr: I have missed your contributions to this meme. Thank you for joining us. This is powerful and very sad.
DeleteGreat writing!
DeleteLove,
Janie
Good story. Sad but good.
DeleteMay after next Tuesday there arise not much more traumata.
Hi Linda - almost time lost story ... interesting - thank you ... cheers Hilary
DeleteSo sad, I hope she eventually finds peace.
DeleteChill bumps Linda.
DeleteMy heart aches for her, excellent writing.
DeleteIn times of trauma solace seems hard to find…hopefully , she finds her way out of white nothingness into light. Great short story plays on emotions.
Deletethanks all of you for the compliments, don't know why my mind went so dark on this one.
DeleteDark, but well written.
DeleteFather John loved St Mary of the Fields. The church had stood strong for hundreds of years now, and over time its white washed walls had faded to pebble grey. It was still beautiful. The villagers loved it too and many of them were attended his services regularly.
ReplyDeleteJust the same he knew that when tempers ran red hot, or minds were reeling with a whirlpool of emotions triggered by rapid change they could neither stop nor cope with, it wasn’t his church they turned to.
Instead they retired to a place which was conveniently near to both the village and the church. There, in a small hollow in the woods, surrounded by a circle of hazel, oak and rowan trees they breathed in and out, giving their hopes, fears and troubles to the trees. Each and every one of them left that sacred space feeling better.
Father John’s superiors urged him to publically condemn the practice as paganism. He refused to cave in to their demands. How could he? He had often found solace in that green cathedral himself.
I find the green cathedral the best of them all
DeleteOh my.
DeleteIncredible! What a story! Feel yourself hugged, Sue.
DeleteThat's really good, EC.
DeleteHi Sue - excellently told ... I too would like my mind to be opened to others' cultures - and finding solace is so necessary - cheers Hilary
DeleteI love your use of the words, and I love the green cathedrals of the world! We're lucky to have an old-growth forest containing trees over 800 years old, just a ten-minute drive away from us. Appropriately enough, it's called Cathedral Grove. :-)
DeleteDianne Henders: I love that your old growth forest is called Cathedral Grove.
DeleteI am glad Father John is so very understanding.
DeleteA green cathedral, oh my EC. Nice tale.
DeleteLove the green cathedral and would worship there.
DeleteThose green cathedral are the blood that runs through my veins, Sue. The finest anthropogenic cathedral in all the world, with gargoyles and flying buttresses, with fluted ceilings and stained glass windows, with painted ceilings and relics of saints(?) does not even come close to the beauty of a single leaf.
DeleteDavid M. Gascoigne: You will be unsurprised to know that I agree with you.
DeleteThe trees were the first cathedral.
DeleteI once found a sanctuary made of tree branches in a field of green. It had no walls, ceiling or floor just a symbolic frame. Creator is found in places that speak to the heart. I enjoyed your story I am glad Father John did not cave to their demands
DeleteLoved this one. Visual and moving. Sandra sandracox.blogspot.com
DeleteForest bathing was ever a custom. And did He not create trees for our solace as well.
DeleteHi EC and Sean - these are slightly easier words ... thank you!
ReplyDeleteBoth choices:
The hollow in the Church font was full of a red watery whirlpool … morbidly the witch hazel hovered over the font in the pebble grey fog.
The cave Mary had found was near the white cliffs … however the tide was rapidly approaching – danger ahead. It could be said that the foul crashing of the stormy waves created the pebble grey fog that covered the cave's entrance …
Halloween ghoulish thoughts … I'll be back ... cheers Hilary
Hilary Melton=Butcher: Definitely spooky. I love the place your words took you and us this week.
DeleteI don't do Halloween, Hilary, but you managed to send shivers down my spine. ;-)
DeleteThanks EC and Sean ... I don't do Halloween - but one is 'bomblasted' with it - we forget our own culture - fireworks and Guy Fawkes ... it's that time of year - cheers Hilary
DeleteA cave with the tide approaching? I hope Mary is a strong swimmer.
DeleteI can see it Hilary.
DeleteThere are shades of Mary Anning here, Hilary. Well done - but that's a redundancy when referring to you.
DeleteNicely done!
DeleteSpooky read for today but, now I wonder what happens next?
DeleteSpooky place, that cave, let Mary beware.
Delete"church,
ReplyDeletehazel,
hollow,
red,
whirlpool"
Hazel attended the church faithfully, but it was hollow, a red whirlpool to hell. She looked everywhere for solace and even attended a service with her kind friends in the trees, though she still longed for more. More found her as she sat still and listened one day. She hadn't need a brick building or the woods. She needed to know the Creator for herself.
Sandi: I really like the way the words let you express your own truth. Well done.
DeleteThis agnostic is glad his prompts enabled you write to write those lines. ;-)
DeleteHi Sandi - yes ... your own feelings are pertinent to our lives as we live ... good for you - cheers Hilary
DeleteTrees often bring me peace too.
DeleteI worshiped in a tall tree near our house and often read a favorite book there. I know the feeling Sandi.
DeleteI was quite enjoying this until I got to the word "creator."
DeleteIt's about relationship, not religion. Nicely done!
Delete;-) Same with me, David.
DeleteI think the peace we seek is within us. In quiet meditation we can see more clearly. Just a thought it works for me.
DeleteAll the way from the Weald to Anglesay he had kept muttering to himself the name of the place from where he wanted to send a card home - for the sake of the postmark - which in English was: St Mary's Church in the hollow of the white hazel near a rapid whirlpool and the Church of St Tysilio near the red cave.
ReplyDeleteThen he had reached the village, only to be told with a smile in a nice tearoom over tea and scone that Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllllantysiliogogogoch "here is simply called Llanfair PG."
Hi Sean - (Anglesey) North Wales probably sounds the right place for your letter to arrive at ... I guess the tearoom will advise the postman where it should be delivered to ... I hope not too late for a life. Cheers Hilary
DeleteSean Jeating: I replied earlier but blogger has discarded it (and not into spam). A great take - but I suspect the full name of that town would not fit on many envelopes.
DeleteLlanfair PG is certainly a lot easier to say.
DeleteSounds like a HARRY POTTER tale. LOL
DeleteI got a great chuckle out of this one, Sean.
DeleteHe must have been very disappointed. Nice use of the prompts!
DeleteWow. If he remembered the name of that town, he has a better memory than me. Though, most folks do. Heh. Thumbs up, Sean:) Sandra sandracox.blogspot.com
DeleteThank you all.
DeleteHilary: Thank you for correcting my typo.
Sue: Actually, it does, as far as I know.
River: Easier, for sure.
Annie: Rather a "seanish" one. ;-)
David: A kingdom to hear that chuckle. ;-) Thank you.
Mimi: He was a bit disappointed, indeed.
Sandra: And when back home he taught his children to correctly spell and pronounce that name, and by now, it has also become part of his grandchildren's memory. ;-)
A whirlpool and a church - interesting combination!
ReplyDeleteAlex J. Cavanaugh: Some excellent stories are already emerging. As usual.
DeleteI like words and writing. I'm just working on stacking wood, though!
ReplyDeleteJenn Jilks: I hope your wood stacking goes well - and that you can join us some week.
DeleteHi Jenn - weave your story around your wood-stacking ... a bloody whirlpool there could be? I sincerely hope not though ... well done on getting prepared for winter chills. Cheers Hilary
DeleteWe'll still be here when the wood is stacked.
DeleteStill stacking, Jenn?
Delete;-)
Seriously: What are some words for Wednesday compared to a warm home in winter?
Another lovely series of fun and interesting stories out of a few words :) Happy end of the month to you my friend.
ReplyDeleteDeniseinVA: Thank you. I really appreciate your visits each week and your encouragement.
DeleteI'll get to work on these later, my mind is already gathering ideas.
ReplyDeleteRiver: I am glad and look forward to seeing where they take you.
DeleteMy story is here and also on my blog...plus a picture there.
ReplyDeletePARLOR TRICKS by Granny Annie
Three of us hid behind the red curtain in the parlor of the church. Yes, we saw it...the old rocking chair began to move. It not only rocked by itself, it began to turn around...faster and faster in a whirlpool. Still no one could be seen sitting in the chair. Mary turned white as a ghost watching this event. She was the only one of us who had never seen this happen. She blinked her hazel eyes in dismay.
The vision began to form as the chair slowed its rapid movement. A very elderly woman with hollow cheeks, and pebble grey color was seen in the chair. The three of us ran out of the Methodist Church and darted to a near cave, screaming loudly all the way there.
Twenty years later, our parents are still looking for us.
Perhaps you hope they will never find you?
DeletePerhaps you hope they will never find you!
DeleteGranny Annie: I have already read and enjoyed your tale - and loved the illustration too.
DeleteVery scary!
DeleteAnd if they haven't died, they're still looking for them ... ;-)
DeleteGood one, Annie.
Well that was certainly a scary tale. The ending was well played
DeleteHi Granny Annie - ha ha ... I do hope I'm allowed to laugh ... great fun - well done - though could be rather morbid too ... cheers or not as the case may be - Hilary
ReplyDeleteMARY’s father was a bit of a religious fanatic. Bit of? NEAR consumed by it actually. He lived in the CAVE of his own imagining, but of course it was all truth to him. His version, His truth. His belief. His interpretation. He went to CHURCH but he didn’t need to. In the WHIRLPOOL of his dogma he wallowed in the surreal, RED light of veracity. Never mind that he had never studied another religion in his life, he knew that his was right. He saw RED if anyone questioned it for a moment. It was as though he had heard one Beethoven symphony and concluded that he already knew the best piece of music the world had to offer. He didn’t need to listen to anything else. Facts be damned. To hell with evidence. He was a man obsessed. Mary had the audacity once to tell him that man created god and not the other way around. She even questioned him about his HOLLOW prayers that accomplished nothing. There was a RAPID slide to an increasingly fraught relationship as you might imagine. And then there was the day, down in the HOLLOW, when he was dressed in WHITE as though to mock purity itself, when under the HAZEL tree he was captured by a passerby with a video camera, telling that eleven-year old girl she was serving god by submitting to him. Now he can pray to god (whoever she is) to spring him from a lifetime in prison. We’ll see how that works.
ReplyDeleteDavid M. Gascoigne: Ouch. I hope that no-one (except death) releases him from that prison.
DeleteIt's scary, as there are people like this.
DeleteMay he not become President.
DeleteHi David - that's a challenging tale ... not a happy read - thanks for worrying me today ... cheers Hilary
DeleteHazel walked to church with Sean and Mary. A hollow glowing cave near the structure produced a white dove so fast and rapid from within a whirlpool of swirling pebble grey prayers. 'What does this mean?' wondered Hazel in awe 'Go in Peace' said the bird stunning everyone into silence as the creature flapped its wings blessing them and flew off into the red sky.
ReplyDeleteGood use of the prompts, SpacerGuy!
DeleteI would like to point out that the aforementioned Sean is not me. ;-)
DeleteSpacerGuy: Thank you for joining us. We should ALL listen to the dove of peace. Always.
DeleteI love the whirlpool of swirling pebble grey prayers and the bird bringing a message of peace.
DeleteHi SpacerGuy - interesting take on the words ... I'm glad they were blessed - cheers Hilary
DeleteThe little church in the wild wood sat in a hollow, with a stream to the side that was more rushing whirlpool than stream, and a grey pebble boulder, surrounded by red witch hazel, behind it.
ReplyDeleteSandra sandracox.blogspot.com
Thank you, Sandra. I can almost see it you described it so well.
DeleteIf there was a bench nearby, I'd like to rest on it for a while ...
DeleteThank you, Messymimi:)
DeleteSean, Consider the bench added.
Sandra
DeleteMmmm ... with closed eyes and ears open enjoying the peace. ;-)
DeleteYou are adding wonderful imagery, Sean.
DeleteSandra
Sandra Cox: I love it - and hope that it is a BIG bench. There are a lot of us who would be happy to sit with you there.
DeleteI can clearly see this wondrous place. I will gladly sit near the shore of contemplation…
DeleteHi Sandra - as long as the whirlpool stream doesn't become storm like - it sounds ideal ... and obviously has lasted many centuries ... so will be protected - cheers Hilary
DeleteHmmm I might participate. I imagine you'd have to think about it quite a bit.
ReplyDeleteAs the raft rapidly turned a corner of the white water, I prayed that MAry the mother of God watched over us.
ReplyDeleteDanielle: Welcome. I hope that you are being watched over.
DeleteMay it be so…
DeleteWalking with a rapid pace along the pebble grey path to the old church passing a cave in the hillside. There is a red woodpecker tapping in an old hollow tree. A man with black hair and hazel eyes sits on the steps. He is reciting poetry which sends my heart into a whirlpool of emotions. The white fluffy clouds drifting with a gentle breeze. The man calls Mary who is tending the flowers in the midday sun to sit with him in the shade. He motions for me to join them. Together we listen to the parables of his heart.
ReplyDeleteTruedessa: This is lovely. Is there room for me to listen in with you too?
DeleteA delightful story. Move along so that I can sit with you all too.
DeleteThank you for the wonderful word list and comments. All our welcomed to join.
DeletePs I wrote this before going to bed last night. In my dreams I quickly tracked this place of peace. A wonderful dreamscape filled with parables and song. I needed that….
Lovely picture you painted with your words. Thank you.
DeleteNicely done, True. The man intrigues me.
DeleteSandra sandracox.blogspot.com
What a nice scene you've created!
ReplyDelete