Prickly briar gallop

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Tiny daily poem for November - Day 15/30 - Prompt: Falter

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Nature’s Empire Falls

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Tiny daily poem for November - Day 14/30 - Prompt: Late

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Formless and Fuzzy

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Tiny daily poem for November - Day 13/30 - Prompt: Blur

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Realm of Hope

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Tiny daily poem for November - Day 12/30 - Prompt: Hope

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Origins unknown

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Tiny daily poem for November - Day 11/30 - Prompt: Found

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How to lighten seasonal blues

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Tiny daily poem for November - Day 10/30 - Prompt: Chocolate

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Double trouble

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Tiny daily poem - Day 9/30 - Prompt: Trouble

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Do we really listen?

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Tiny daily poem for November - Day 8/30 - Prompt: Listening

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Familiar like a maternal embrace

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Tiny daily poem for November - Day 7/30 - Prompt: Home

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A place to doodle

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Tiny daily poem for November - Day 6/30 - Prompt: Margin

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Tell me the truth

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Daily tiny poem, day 5/30 - Prompt: Truth 

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The Queue

Crocus queue by Alison Day

At last, the first day of Spring and there's already a queue in the garden ;)

For winter's rains and ruins are over,

And all the season of snows and sins;

The days dividing lover and lover,

The light that loses, the night that wins;

And time remembered is grief forgotten,

And frosts are slain and flowers begotten,

And in green underwood and coverBlossom by blossom the spring begins.    

—Algernon Charles Swinburne (1837-1909)

© Alison Day 

Alison Day Design 

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Alive without Breath

Tell me, O Octopus, I begs

Is those things arms, or is they legs?

I marvel at thee, Octopus;

If I were thou, I'd call me Us  — Ogden Nash

An octopus in a bowl? 

No, this is a 3-D creation of Sinapore-based artist Keng Lye - modern-day illusionist, who's work emerges as the result of pouring resin into a bowl, layer by layer and then painting it in great detail with acrylics.

The technique was originated by Riusuke Fukahori. How it's done, watch this. 

This is one of a series called Alive without breath. Other equally beautiful examples can be viewed here.

Source: This is Colossal

Ferry Hinksey

"Beyond the ferry water that fast and silent flowed,

She turned, she gazed a moment, then took her onward road.

Between the winding willows to a city white with spires:

It seemed a path of pilgrims to the home of earth's desires.

Blue shade of golden branches spread for her journeying,

Till he that lingered lost her among the leaves of Spring."

 

- Laurence Binyon

 

© Alison Day Designs