When the streets were barren, when the lights were dimming, when the ancient clock tower threatened to strike six, the old man’s words often came back to hound him; ‘These paintings won’t put food on your table.’

The old man was wrong. Everyone with a buck in the pocket wanted to be an art aficionado, and the replicas sold really well.

The old man was right too. A hungry belly made him put down his brushes. The colourful prints splashed behind him were for the passersby; he himself looked down at the grey cobble.

In response to Week 153 of Three Line Tales, based on a photo by Beata Ratuszniak via Unsplash

There’s no such place as far away

photo by Lalo via Unsplash

Through choppy seas and misty winds
Take flight despite the drag on your wings
For the song of life is yours to sing

Though the path be dark
If you fail you face the shark
Yet of the skies you are the king

Defy the gail to paint the sky
The tides may change yet fly on high
Let the angels sing to the beat of your zing

In response to Sonya’s Three Line Tales: Week 148 challenge.

Title credit goes to Richard Bach. The picture reminded me of his book by the same name.

The Star

It didn’t really matter that her scales were all over the place, or that each tune sounded no different than the other; as a true artist, she performed from her heart, straight into the hearts of her audience.

As the song finished, she was greeted with thunderous claps and cheers.

She was the star performer of the Mercy Home for Special Kids.

In response to Sonya’s Three Line Tales: Week 147 challenge, based on a photo by Lechon Kirb via Unsplash

Read the Sign

If you woke up to bawling kids, a sink full of soiled dishes and a strew of beer bottles…

If the fridge was empty, your entire closet in the laundry, and the cable cut due to unpaid bills…

If I walked out and never looked back, would you notice me then?

In response to The Three Line Tales: Week 140 challenge based on a photo by Ernest Brillo via Unsplash


The boxes were bulky, the news was sound;
Now we can no longer trust what’s going around.

Fearful of becoming couch potatoes, we made the devices mobile;
Under the illusion of controlling TRPs, we never noticed when we became servile.

Debates and discussions, we felt would get us to the crux,
Yet with all the opinions and options, we remain sitting ducks.

In response to Week 138 of Three Line Tales, based on a photo by Sven Scheuermeier via Unsplash


Baring my heart, surrendering my trust,
opening my mind to new possibilities.

Stepping through the door, seeking light, spirituality,
I seek to drive away the loneliness.

Wandering, trapped, in a maze of blind belief,
I don’t even realise that I am lost.

In response to Week 137 of Three Line Tales prompt based on a photo by Nathan Wright via Unsplash


Climb the rocks, Swim the tides, Reach for the elusive beacon light;

Searching for something you may find, something you may never find;

At the bottom of your mind, in the depths of the sea, truth or a figment of memory;
Keep searching.

In response to Sonya’s The Three Line Tales, Week 134 challenge, based on the provided photo prompt.