Title: Red Morn
Source: Thursday photo prompt: Renewal #writephoto
Word count: 404 words
My alarm buzzed, and I swatted the snooze button missing it several times before my fingers found their target. I groaned, pulling the covers over my head. Five more minutes was all I needed. I heard Granddad whistling in the kitchen and I pulled the pillow around my head, hoping to silence him. How was anyone that happy in the morning I wondered?
I drifted, welcoming blissful sleep until my bedroom door burst open and ricocheted off the doorstop. The pine door vibrated from the blow. I didn’t have to peek to know who had ended my quest to delay the start of the day.
“Once more the ruby-colour’d portal open’d, Which to his speech did honey passage yield,” Granddad quoted as I listened to him move across the room to my window.
His voice dropped, to a whisper as he continued, “Like a red morn, that ever yet betoken’d.”
He yanked the first curtain panel open, “Wrack to the seaman,” his voice rose, and his words punctuated his moments. “Tempest to the field,” he flung the second curtain panel open and sunlight streamed into my room.
“Sorrow to shepherds,” he intoned in his most pitiful voice and he crossed the room to my bed.
“Woe unto the birds,” he giggled as he shook me, tugging my covers.
“Gusts and foul flaws to herdmen and to herds,” he ended as the blankets escaped my grasp and flew to the end of the bed leaving me and my puppy dog pajamas exposed. It was hard to tell which of us laughed more.
“Granddad you’re insane. What was that?”
“What?” Grandad’s eyes bulged, and his jaw dropped as he right hand clutched his heart. “Surely no grandchild of mine is ignorant of the words of the Great William Shakespeare?” The giant man stood at the foot of my bed, laughter creased his eyes, and he attempted to frown his disapproval.
“Oh,” I stammered and tried to remember something from the bard my granddad loved. “What light through yonder window breaks?” I managed but couldn’t remember the next line.
“By Jove. It is the east, and you, my fair Juliet, are the sun,” Granddad took a step back, and with a grand flourish bowed low over his extended leg. He stood, smiled at me, then turned to leave the room.
“Pancakes, in five. Don’t miss your cue,” he called over his shoulder and I scrambled to comply.
__________________________________________
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
Oh I love this! Made me smile! ❤
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Thanks, Joy. It was fun to write. 😊
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And fun to read! 🙂
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Ah! A lovely post.
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Glad you liked it Sadje. 😊
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You’re welcome
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😊
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What a great response. I too love Shakespeare.
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When I saw the photo it brought the quote to mind. Glad you liked it. ✨❤✨
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How many times have I been woken thus unkindly? 🙂
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Ha! I hope it made you laugh. 😊
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It did 🙂
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This was so cute!
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Thank you, glad you enjoyed it.
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You made reference to the “Seaman” and that along with the photo brings up the thoughts of the old Sailor’s rhym:
Red sky at night, Sailor’s delight.
Red sky at morning, Saylor take warning.
Had that thought occurred to you?
“Keep on writing!”
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Indeed, it did. Apparently the adage (or variants thereof) has been around for two millennia. There is a reference in the bible as well:
“When in evening, ye say, it will be fair weather: For the sky is red. And in the morning, it will be foul weather today; for the sky is red and lowering.” (Matthew XVI: 2-3,)
Thanks and have a great day. 😊
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