Snapshots

It needs life to see beyond
the narrow strip of black and white
and time which ages snapshots and
pages to differing shades of sepia
or,

(like memory)
it all fades into blues and greys
and on into the white of nothing

Yet,
below the surface
lays the hidden passion.
The love.
The dreams of journeys on
paths just waiting to be written
and horizons longing to be
gazed upon then, stained with
indelible ink upon the yearning
in our soul.

If trees could talk
(maybe)
they would tell us of how much
pain and suffering it took to
grow each circle and each line.
Of how they learn to bend without
breaking and how they know
(instinctively)
that to bring
about new growth something
has to die
yet, still they keep
reaching for the stars

Perhaps they know that everything
which exists is neither
black or white
but, is instead
a painter’s palette of
imperceptibly blended
colours of creation.

~*~

© Daydreamertoo *All rights reserved

Thanks for for images at Real Toads. Liked them all but this one seemed to ‘speak’ to me

Shared with With real Toads #Images by Mary Ann Potter aka Starcatcher

Rebecca

              

Looking at the scorched-black, smeared and smudgy ruins of what was left of the house she heard the wind whistle in haunting whips, much as leather straps are cracked and used to scare, as if to remind the ghosts would always haunt, but there would be no more fear that seeps in through shadowy thoughts from Rebecca’s past deeds which nestled like open sores that would weep and bleed. It had all been so bizarre. In restless mood she knew she had to somehow find her inner balance once more. It was one thing to think Mrs. Danvers intended to do her harm and, another thing altogether to know it.

In 1938 Rebecca was written by novelist Daphne du Maurier

It was turned into a very famous movie in 1940 directed byAlfred Hitchcock Starring Sir Lawrence Olivier and Joan Crawford
It’s got everything a good story ought to have. Love, hatred, jealousy, suspense. One thing that always fascinated me was that the second wife (who is the heroine and narrator of the story, is never named. All the way through the story she is only ever called Mrs De Winter. His deceased first wife, is Rebecca and Mrs. Danvers is the housekeeper who hates the second wife and (secretly loved) Rebecca.
It’s a novel I have yet to read but a movie I could watch time and time again. I love that (now) very famous opening line:
“Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again”

Shared with The Sunday Whirl #44