A dream upon a ship so still,
anchored firm in a twilight chill,
a hush of sea, a pulse of air,
with salt and silence everywhere.

The world a blur, yet sharp and clear,
warm scented breeze dissolved her fears.
up left, a lighthouse stood alone,
its tower cut from weathered stone.

It blinked a rhythm slow and true,
against a sky of charcoal blue.
the window glowed, a tiny spark,
a friend within the peaceful dark.

A waterfall, both wild and neat,
fell tumbling fast, yet truly sweet,
into a basin carved with care,
a mirror holding nature’s flair.

Then down again in threads of glass,
it spilled and shimmered, bold and fast,
as if the mountain wept in light,
to mourn the silence of the night.

She woke with water in her ear,
the scent of sea still soft and near,
and for a breath, the world was wide,
as gleams of light sparkled inside.

– Grace Y. Estevez – Reddy

Response to Sadje’s picture prompt on What Do You See # 295 June 30, 2025

This weeks prompt offered two picture options. This poem was inspired by both pictures. 💕

She sits beneath the window light,
her world composed in black and white.
camera held with steady grace,
to frame the city’s silent face.

A leather book, its pages closed,
beside her rests, in weathered pose,
the title worn by time and care,
but one line lingers, faint and bare:
“I am not afraid of failure,”
wise message is custom tailored.
she flicked her hair, broke from deep haze,
a sign of hope to drench her days.

She lifts the lens with steady grace,
and frames the city’s shifting face.
Clock tower tall, its hands mid flight,
large buildings cast in golden light.

Yet closer still, the world turns strange,
dark shadows move beyond her range.
Figures soon blur, like thoughts unfound,
distorted shapes move without sound.
Their edges smear, their faces gone,
like thoughts half formed before the dawn.
Distorted shapes, unsure, unclear,
yet somehow oddly drawing near.

She clicks, then waits, her breath held tight,
between the shadow and the light.
With book in hand and lens in eye,
watches as reflections pass by.

– Grace Y. Estevez – Reddy

Response to Sadje’s picture prompt on What Do You See # 293 June 16, 2025

This weeks prompt offered two picture options. This poem was inspired by both pictures. 💕

Tower of books, spines turned away,
their titles hushed, deep thoughts at bay.
Arranged with care from large to slight,
a quiet climb from dark to light.

Each page within holds untold lore,
wise words declare what came before.
They lean in silence, ever proud,
like wisdom dressed in linen shroud.

Beside this stack, a dinner scene,
fine ladies meet, each one a queen.
Tables are set, united space,
bright laughter softens every face.

Beautiful women, poised, aware,
endless stories and smiles to share,
then one jumps up to take a stand,
a microphone placed on her hand.

She speaks, and all the hush ignites,
like unseen books that bloom with lights.
her voice, both gentle and profound,
converts doubts into solid ground.

No spine revealed, no title shown,
yet every tale is clearly known.
For here are stories clothed in grace,
living texts that time won’t erase.

– Grace Y. Estevez – Reddy

Response to Sadje’s picture prompt on What Do You See # 292 June 09, 2025

This weeks prompt offered two picture options. This poem was inspired by both pictures. 💕

A full moon hangs on this cool night,
its glow reflects shimmering light,
a fleeting shape cuts through the sky,
upon her face, a plane flies by.

Down far below where waves retreat,
a turtle lifts its ancient feet,
it climbs the shore with patient grace,
the sea behind, the clouds in place.

Above, it hums radiant stars,
bound for places set near and far,
a spark of motion in so deep,
while underneath the world’s asleep.

One journeys through the silent sky,
the other crawls where water lies,
two travelers on different seas,
both chasing distant destinies.

– Grace Y. Estevez – Reddy

Response to Sadje’s picture prompt on What Do You See # 291 June 02, 2025

This weeks prompt offered two picture options. This poem was inspired by both pictures. 💕