R is for Ruins

On my way to my grandma's house I have to pass by the ruins of "St. Haralambie" church (yes, near a forest, too) which had been built in 1818 and whose mysteries are yet to be revealed. This is one of the things tourmenting my curiousity as a child and was a central place to many stories I was creating in my childhood and teens.

dandelion fields

stirring imagination -

dubious riuns

mysteries hidden -

the pass of time will deepen

curiousity

stories writing place -

playing with ghosts from the past,

rewriting the truth

After more than 2 decades fantasizing about the ruins and inventing stories, about 2 years ago I've researched it and I haven't found more than the name of the church and the year of the construction. So, my mind still creates scenaries and scenarios around it. I could imagine a ghotic novel around this mystery (1st draft almost ready - boxed in autumn - why haven't God offered me the gift of finishing up everything?)
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NaHaiWriMo

April 20th - music/musical instrument

late-April evening -

cicada's sad violin

telling his story

Carpe Diem

April 20th - Abraham (wisdom)

halfway through his life,

contemplating what has been -

ready for future

his speech,

like never before -

a lesson