Following on from here are some of my own composotions - in a couple of cases accompanying pictues I've taken.

I had thought to carve from the stone a face
of beauty and of grace.
I set about the task with energy and purpose,
Utterly lost in the act of physical creation;
The hammer that I held, the chisel that it struck and the slow,
un-pealing of the stone with each
Flake-creating blow
Possessed my concentration so
All sense of passing time was lost.
A shape emerged, shaped - I thought - by me,
But what I saw when I stood back
Were violence, flames, hate and death,
Entwined around a child’s face
Whose mouth was opened in a cry,
And eyes were weeping blood.