I'm bound to say that you must give us more! I know you love the short form but if you make them this short then they should be packing explosives. :D
And I think perhaps you've used "little pools of light" elsewhere...
I know I'm a greedy bear sometimes but I am a bear after all...or a potted plant. Where the devil did Weatherwax get to? Let us know you're still breathing! Cheers!
I might be off here, but I was directed to the light filtering into windows and then left wondering why you didn’t tell me something more about that. I think you could pull that off without exceeding the length much... if you wanted to take it that direction. Don’t know.
Thanks Steve, I can definitely build on this. And Mr. Bear yes I am quite fond of that line: "little pools of light". Time to come up with something new :)
The sun sets in the purple bay, spilling light over masts, creeping into panelled cabins of old rotting boats, illuminating charts and compasses, highlighting old worn pipes and dog-eared photographs of women who once kept seafarers company on cold stormy nights.
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4 comments:
I'm bound to say that you must give us more! I know you love the short form but if you make them this short then they should be packing explosives. :D
And I think perhaps you've used "little pools of light" elsewhere...
I know I'm a greedy bear sometimes but I am a bear after all...or a potted plant. Where the devil did Weatherwax get to? Let us know you're still breathing! Cheers!
Tiger:
I might be off here, but I was directed to the light filtering into windows and then left wondering why you didn’t tell me something more about that. I think you could pull that off without exceeding the length much... if you wanted to take it that direction. Don’t know.
Thanks for posting, I always enjoy your work.
Steve
Thanks Steve, I can definitely build on this. And Mr. Bear yes I am quite fond of that line: "little pools of light". Time to come up with something new :)
what about something like this:
The sun sets in the purple bay,
spilling light over masts,
creeping into panelled cabins
of old rotting boats, illuminating
charts and compasses, highlighting old worn pipes and dog-eared photographs of women who once kept seafarers company on cold stormy nights.
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