Rock of ages

Upon the highest peak my homestead rose, a beacon bright for wolf and lamb.

To one a hiding place of peace, to another a ploughing field for conquest.

Upon the highest peak my homestead rose, safety and shadows filtering by.


Written for three line tales, week 134.

A writing challenge hosted by Sonya.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s