Written for: Sunday Muse #178
"Pick one image to write about."
I had
high hopes for us–
happy marriage and children.
Hollywood will adore you, dear,
my loss.
Should you
tire of stardom
you will find stars await
silvering my eyes with love dear,
your gain.
http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
Written for: Poets and Storytellers United Weekly Scribblings #87: "Let's Go To The Fair" (posted by Rommy) "For today’s prompt I want you to write about one (or more) things you might find at a fair and write about that. Possibilities include (but are not limited to) cotton candy, Ferris wheels, ring toss, merry-go-rounds, corn dogs, and roller coasters." It was a county fair without any scary bears, though pigs did race, and chickens paced. In stalls, handsome horses; in pens a goats' chorus. Quilts were blue ribbon, not for sale or quibblin'. Fried, fried, fried, Oreos, pickles–that's no lie. I spotted my corn dogs for which I longed. Soft custard stands, for pistachio I ran. Look at all those high rides. They churn up my insides. Children drip ice cream cones, teenagers stay on phones. Fun for all, this county fair, Oh how I wish you were there. https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
Written for: Go Dog Go Cafe Tuesday Writing Prompt: "whisper through me" (posted by Devereaux and Beth) As the zephyrs of Spring tickle my neck and tease my arms, I sense a bee-buzz of anticipation around my head like a crystal aura. I recall precious moments of long ago. Stand still; close my eyes. Your warm breath whispers through me. https://godoggocafe.com/
Written for: The Twiglets #244 - "breaks light" waiting for light to break through darkness When lightbulb crashed to the floor, it's tiny pieces formed a mosaic. Hard to clean up without a light. light breaks across branches of maples bird's cue to sing When a man purchased a brand new lamp he placed it next to a thriving house plant. The light was intense, the plant took offense. Leaves browned and fell; lamp ignored demise of plant. https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
Written for: Poetic Bloomings2 Prompt #351 - The Day After "Today is September 12th. Twenty years after The Day After. We’re writing “The Day After” poems. You decide what day you are referencing and write that poem. “The Day After Tomorrow”, “The Day After I Lost My First Tooth”, “The Day After The Earth Stopped”… Let’s revisit that day. The day after." Day after the storm houses gone, widespread floods, homelessness, horrific heat. People weep at loss, ponder rebuilding. How many times can they start anew? So weary on day after the storm. https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
Written for: The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #518 Words: carpets, lining, candlelight, land, tears, touching line, kneeling, down, flowers, late, wheels Wheels of summer spin rain and heat. Late living flowers drop petals on land forming carpets at base of trees. I kneel down to touch the dewdrop tears in morning sun. By evening, a line of ominous clouds parts. Zig-zags of purple lightning, and bombs of thunder drive everyone to shelter indoors. Some eat by candlelight as power fails, and house lights shiver, then disappear. https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
Written for: Sunday Muse #177
Ach, it is becoming
too difficult to braid
the hair I have stubbornly
sought to keep. Deep veins
and liver-spotted, arthritic
hands, are gnarled like an old
tree. Honey, would you please
help me finish this chore
that once was a pleasure?
http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
Written for: dVerse Poets Pub (posted by Laura Bloomsbury) Meeting The Bar: Something Noel in Lines "Since today is the 9th of the 9th month it is fitting for that numeral to inform today’s poetry form – so let’s meet The Novelinee! "Yes, it’s a nine line stanza poem overlaid with this rhyme sequence: a,b,a,b,c,d,c,d,d But that’s not all!! The novelinee was invented by Sarah Rayburn from the Spenserian stanza but written in iambic pentameter or 10 syllable lines (decasyllabic) with alternate stresses." On this September day, we grieve for those whose lives were taken, their futures ended, their families waiting, names yet unknown. A shock too appalling to comprehend– the stench of smoke, fires out of control. I watched from tunnel my building explode, and knew there’d be colleagues left in that hole. We sat glued to news, as tears overflowed. Forever my heart will remain shadowed. https://dversepoets.com/
Written for: Poets and Storytellers United Weekly Scribblings #86 - "Mining The Journals" (posted by Rosemary) "It’s good to use really old journals if you have them, so you don’t remember what you wrote (though you may well remember the events you wrote about) and see the words afresh. However, even recent entries can surprise you, because they weren’t written with the intention of becoming poems or stories. When you’re looking for poetic or narrative possibilities, you re-read them in a different way. Old or new, it’s rare (I think) that an entry can be reproduced verbatim. That’s OK. It’s a source of inspiration. Where you then take the inspiration is up to you. So – today I invite you to mine a journal entry (or several) for material and give us a poem or a story drawn from that source." A no-frills, last minute vacancy in this hotel meant DAMP! You bring in dry clothes, and as if my magic, the room makes them wet. A perusal of night table and desk drawers, proved their lack of any amenities. No Bible, no Rule List–not even a brochure with suggestions of Things To Do. For two days, we managed. What puzzled us was the couple next door. They sat outside their room on beach chairs all day long drinking beer after beer. We never saw them move. Why choose a hotel? https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
Written for: dVerse Poets Pub (posted by Sanaa) Poetics: Dungeons & Derivatives "For today’s Poetics I invite you all to play a poetry game called, “Dungeons and Derivatives.” The idea here is to select one (from a list of eight sentences) and to change at least one word or more by replacing it with a derivative. Once you are done, unlock the muse from its dungeon and write a poem with the existing sentence." "Could it be that this idea of healing is a seed that has been planted within us?” Could it be that this idea of being healthy is a tiny pit that grows from within us? In childhood years we all wondered about the circulating story of swallowing a watermelon pit and having it grow in our stomachs. Was it only black pits or tiny white ones as well? How large would it grow, and how on earth would they be able to remove it? https://dversepoets.com/2021/09/07/poetics-dungeons-and-derivatives/
Written for: The Twiglets #243 - "steps on everything" While scooping up dog poop, I stepped in it. Hurricane cleaned shoes. Have you noticed that the older you get the more steps you have to climb when going anywhere? sits in sunshine, awed at this exciting place foot of the Spanish Steps He still listened to children's old rhymes Did not step on cracks-even one time. Walked 'round all ladders thinking it mattered but crossed at green, and was hit by a bike full of grime. https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
Written for: Poets and Storytellers United Writer's Pantry #86: Pet Training Cybyl walked in the shape of an "S", as if she were being followed by spies. Our black and white Springer Spaniel could not walk in a straight line, but fortunately, she was never stopped by police. She was the only dog we ever had that aced Frisbee. Racing back and forth, she never missed. When she had enough, she'd amble over to us, and drop the Frisbee at our feet. She would never carry it home. So, three of us left the park, two following Cybyl's serpentine walk. https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
Written for: Poetic Bloomings2 Prompt #350 - Nights In Shining Armor "We’re writing a night poem. The shining could be the moon and stars. The armor can be an alcove of trees. The romance is whatever stirs your emotions! Take your words and try to get medieval on us. Or better yet, make us swoon." Riding an ivory-colored horse, he gallops down the path, metal clinking. She sits on a smooth stone facing the other way. Today, she is sorrowful, lonely. Maybe that full moon has altered her mood. She hears horse hoofs and a clanging sound. She swirls around, rubs her eyes. The magic lamp had worked! Here was her knight to whisk her away to a brand new world on an ivory-colored horse. https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
Written for: The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #176 Words: cage, hanger, try, flutter, cold, stray, deny, finish, womb, wish, eager, tree Cold rescued dogs, stuck in an aircraft hangar, were finally free of their cages. They were eager to try out their cramped legs, and put a finish to their old lives of horrifying hurricanes. The rescued dogs raced around maple trees chasing each other and barking with a joy that could not be denied. Nearby, white butterflies fluttered about, stopping to light on fragrant flowers. No longer did the happy hounds wish for the warmth of their mother's womb. They had each other. https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
Written for: Sunday Muse #176
Ain't gonna be no bettin' man
no more.
Came to Vegas with some big-ass dreams
Winnin's not easy as they make it seem.
Lost my yellow Mustang; man I loved that car
chattin' up some slick fella at the bar.
Couldn't get nothin' 'cept this wreck–no horn.
Drivin' back to Tennessee in a black dust storm.
Ain't gonna be no bettin' man
no more.
http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
Written for: Poets and Storytellers United Weekly Scribblings #85: "Take Care of Your Body" (posted by Magaly) "I invite you to write poetry or prose inspired by the following Jim Rohn’s quote: “Take care of your body. It’s the only place you have to live.” Feel free to use the phrase literally or figuratively." With macular degeneration present in family, it's eye vitamins for me. Since my having any bones at all is merely rumor, I stay calcified. Knew I could never escape stomach woes. Stomach is first to speak up when stress or grief shows, as it is in my sister, and was with my Dad. Probiotics are part of my vitamin medley, and . . . just in case . . . I always carry Imodium. https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
Written for: Go Dog Go Cafe - Tuesday Writing Prompt “waterfall wishes” (posted by Devereaux and Beth) Waterfall wishes cascade in white tiers, a wedding cake, a salty tear. Was that what you wished for as you stood, eyes shut tightly. Is it all you hoped for in dark of night? https://godoggocafe.com/2021/08/31/tuesday-writing-prompt-challenge-august-31-2021/
Written for: The Twiglets #242 - "those clean hands" I can still smell the blood on your cleansed hands. The need for sanitizer during this horrific time has left my hands raw. preening himself parrot turns head left, then right leaves wings spotless Her daughter was dating a dream -boat with a fine job, held in esteem 'til his self-centeredness caused her loss of interest Mother said, so what, 'least his hands are clean. https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
Written for: Go Dog Go Cafe - Donna Matthews triolet form challenge Triolet Poetry 8-line poem Eight syllables each line The rhyme pattern looks like this: ABaAabAB – A and B are refrains Lakes are calm and fun to swim in but there's no setting like a beach – crashing waves and seagull's harsh din. Lakes are calm and fun to swim in. Beaches fill my heart to the brim. Let's write our names in sand, side by each. Lakes are calm and fun to swim in but there's no setting like a beach. https://godoggocafe.com/2021/08/25/a-game-show-by-donna-matthews/
Written for: dVerse Poets Pub (posted by Frank J. Tassone) Haibun Monday - Back to School "Whether you begin a new school year yourself, you send your first (or last) to college, or you recall your own back to school adventures, write your haibun alluding to back to school!" Soon as September arrived, my mother would start singing, "The Party's Over". Oh how I hated to hear that song. Then there was the horror of shopping for school clothes. I never liked anything she picked out. Even then I was a color person, and she was pure earth tones. In the second grade, I had Miss Gordon, whom I loved. After that it was pretty much downhill. On one hand, I can name the teachers I liked. On the other, there was Mrs. Snelling, two miserable years in a row. Thin jacket in Fall knock-hockey in playground not cold in see-saw sun https://dversepoets.com/
Written for: Poetic Bloomings2 Prompt #349 A "Shel" of Your Former Self THE LITTLE BOY AND THE OLD MAN By Shel Silverstein Said the little boy, sometimes I drop my spoon. Said the little old man, I do that too. The little boy whispered, I wet my pants. I do too, laughed the old man. Said the little boy, I often cry. The old man nodded. So do I. But worst of all, said the boy, it seems grown-ups don’t pay attention to me. And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand. I know what you mean, said the little old man. "This week we breech a subject with which more of us here deal than not. Aging. As we get a little older, we become more and more a shell of our former selves. Our highlighted poem by Shel Silverstein approaches the subject tenderly and lovingly as the similarity between the little boy and the aged gentleman is compared. Re-read the Silverstein poem to refresh the concept. Then, you are charged with writing a poem that reflects your process as told to a young person. You are the Old (Woman/Man)." Oh, your favorite book is Harold and the Purple Crayon? Yes, I love that book. Little girl smiles. My favorite color is purple. Do you like coloring books? Oh yes, little girl says, but I always color outside the lines. So did I. It was more fun. Little girl says, I like to make trees and clouds in different colors, but teacher says I have to use the right color crayon. I liked to draw pink trees. Wow. My teacher would be upset if she saw that. You know, cookie crumbs stick to my lips all the time. Well, I have the same problem with crumbly cookies. Know what I want to be when I grow up? A famous baseball player. She giggles. Dad says I'm too skinny. You are still growing. You can be anything you like. Big grin. https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
Written for: Sunday Whirl, Wordle #516 Words: name, out, conduct, miles, rise, shimmering, close, stories, grin, sin, wind, cream Stories of rising crime stain our country for miles, wind down our hopefulness like a stopped clock. Tick-tock. Who was attacked today? Who committed sinful acts of hatred, racism? Out-of-control violence conducts the orchestra with a whip. Name a state that remains untouched, pure as white whipped cream. You cannot close the door on rising crime. It shimmers close to the surface skin of those whose rage can no longer be contained. They are out there. They are not grinning foolish pranksters. They are simply grim. https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
Written for: Sunday Muse #175
We are marked
like bark. Scratched
and scarred by life. Our
bodies crack, hollows form
in our trunks. We grow
flimsy branch hair,
where dancing blackbirds
flit in and out, building
their nests, as we are
incapable of building our own.
http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
Written for: dVerse Poets Pub (posted by Victoria Slotto) Meeting The Bar: Soliloquy "Soliloquy is a form of speech spoken aloud by a character but addressed to no one except his or her self. The purpose of the soliloquy is to allow the audience to get a glimpse of the character’s inner thoughts and feelings while keeping them hidden from the other characters. The soliloquy differs from a monologue in that the latter is spoken so that other characters may be made privy to the speaker’s point of view. A soliloquy can express thoughts, emotions, intentions, plans and desires. It can influence the unfolding of the plot and can create irony." "Now for the “Quoi?” (What?) part of the prompt. It’s obvious that I am asking you to write a soliloquy, but I would like you to make an effort to include some clear examples of one or more poetic devices of your choosing in your self-talk." Wish that I could taste the stars melting on my tongue, wrapping it in silken, sweet hot fudge. I am content to gaze at beauty I cannot grasp, thereby leaving purity where it belongs. https://dversepoets.com/
Written for: Poets and Storytellers United (posted by Rommy) Weekly Scribblings #84: The Last Time "Hello, Word Artists and Admirers! For this week’s prompt, I’d like you to play around with the phrase, “the last time.” You are free to interpret the phrase in any way you’d like, but you must use the words somewhere in your piece." Know I said this is the last time months ago. Now I am truly fed up. This is your last time. https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
Written for: Go Do Go Cafe - Tuesday Writing Prompt (posted by Devereaux and Beth) "Use fire, mystic, and identity in prose or poetry." Saw a glow of fire in your eyes and knew you possessed the soul of a mystic with no definitive identity https://godoggocafe.com/
Written for: dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille #134 "We (heart) Poems" - (Posted by WhimsyGizmo) "Write us something that nearly gives us a heart attack. Come to us with your heart in your hands. Heart us a song, a storm or a story. Who was your teenage heartthrob? Pull at our heartstrings. Whether your poem is heartwarming or heartbreakingly coldhearted, just make sure it’s exactly 44 words (not including the title) and contains some form of the word heart. Heartbeat, heartland, heartfelt, heartless, heartache, heartburn, heartwood, heartworm." There are those who harden their hearts against love, no upticks in heart rate. They never experience rapid heart beats, nor joys of surges and butterflies. Fearful of heartache and it’s ensuing sorrow, they choose not to allow another heart to touch their own. https://dversepoets.com/
Written for: Sunday Whirl, Wordle #515 Words: fashion, storm, counter, surge, gust, role, floor, blinds, send, dry, children, masks She saw her role clearly. Take the fashion world by storm. No more behind counters, or out on selling floors. During this dry spell, as pandemic numbers surged, she began designing fun masks for children. With a gusto she'd never known, she worked into the blind of night, sending her creations to local shops. Sold out immediately. Now she is thinking ahead to better times, and where her creativity might take her. https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
Written for: Poetic Bloomings2, Prompt #348 - Weather "Anywhere the weather takes you is prime for your piece." Central Park sparks lit up New York City. The Homecoming Concert was packed, energy level pulsating, awaiting performances of top singers and musicians. Wishing for it to continue all night, but rain came. People stayed. Maybe they could wait it out. When lightning flashed, only half the magic had taken place. Too dangerous, they said. The show did not go on. https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
Written for: Sunday Muse #174
Promised myself one Catniptini. Now my ears are throbbing, my eyeballs are spinning. Worst of all, they will have to look for me, and they know exactly where I am–Paws and Stripes–my favorite hangout. The dog will laugh his tail off, and I will be housebound. Just prrrfect. http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
Written for: Go Dog Go Cafe Tuesday Writing Prompt (posted by Devereaux and Beth) What do you see in this photo? What do you feel? (in 15 words)
Desolation. No one rides the wooden rails at this old depot. Gone– the glory days.
Written for: The Twiglets #240 "the stars burn" wildfires high enough to make the stars burn Once I had stars in my eyes– you burnt them out stars in her eyes she witnesses sparkling silver burn and fall A young man with stars in his eyes thought he knew where his future lie I'll love you forever said his girl, so clever but she continued to see other guys https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
Written for: Poetic Bloomings2 - Promp #347 So Much For Technology "Today, we vilify technology. We found some new gadgets made our lives better. But some were like opening Pandora’s Box. Think of some technological wonder of this modern age and then consider its predecessor. We want that poem." I think I shall write a letter. Better yet, I will write it in purple ink. The receiver will open the envelope with care and curiosity. He/she will touch thick stationary, note flow of writing, style of each letter, and nod. 'Yup, that's her. What a job I have now to decipher the words. No mistaking whose handwriting it is.' I will wait eagerly for a reply. https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
Written for: Sunday Whirl, Wordle #514 Words: sense, years, still, mend, frame, scry, decry, marry, funnel, avenue, heart, fall Though scryer swore that her heart would mend, she would fall in love, and marry again, she still sensed problems on the horizon. Fears framed her outlook. Friends decried dependence upon a crystal ball. Perhaps she will seek out a new avenue, one that welcomes reliance solely on herself. Too many years were funneled by others. The ball darkened. She paid her fee, and left. https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
Written for: Sunday Muse #173
We have the same
eyes, my little
friend. I sing,
and play to soothe
the poor villagers.
You cuddle up with
them, and they feel
loved. We each have
our jobs to fulfill.
http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
Written for: dVerse Poets Pub - Poetry Form: Mirrored Refrain (posted by Grace) "The Mirrored Refrain is rhyming verse form constructed by Stephanie Repnyek. The poem is formed by three or more quatrains where two lines within the quatrain are the “mirrored refrain” or alternating refrain. The rhyme scheme is as follows: xaBA, xbAB, xaBA, xbAB, etc.. x represents the only lines that do not rhyme within the poem. A and B represent the refrain." Saxophone thrills me, notes creep under my skin. I think of hot summer nights. Sound of the blues vibrates within. Music brings people together. Cultures combine–a joyous sight Sound of the blues vibrates within. I think of hot summer nights. One voice in language of many tugs shuttered windows open. Sound of the blues vibrates within. I think of hot summer nights. https://dversepoets.com/
Written for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics: Outside Looking In (posted by Laura Bloomsbury) " -conjure an imaginary house of any size, any place, any age -fill it with an imaginary person/people past or present, or ghosts, or leave it empty with its history -make it literal but move into the metaphorical if you wish." Here is Jenny! She is my dream log cabin home. Roof imprinted with shadows of nearby trees, pleasing shade for front porch–a necessity. Note the chimney. It will keep me snug and sheltered. Inside, a hearth rug for my animals. They love to lie in front of fireplaces. Chair hung from ceiling is rounded and pillowed, perfect for curling up. Wide windows for wishing, daydreaming, or watching wildlife. Cabin's main focus is a spacious room. A woodsy scent permeates the house of happy people and pets. Other rooms are still in the dream-schematics. This cabin is named for my grandmother. Say hello to Jenny. https://dversepoets.com/2021/08/10/poetics-outside-looking-in/
Written for: Poets and Storytellers United Weekly Scribblings #82: "War is over! If you want it" (Posted by Magaly) Write a poem using the quote as inspiration. Life can be a joy if you notice small things– a pond filled with koi, the aroma of Spring. The eyes of a pet– deep pools of love and licks, if you let. Morning may bring a cooing dove. A field of wildflowers multi-colored, grown tall. Soft summer showers, baby learning to crawl. Open your eyes, take in the view. Let yourself be surprised at what surrounds you. https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
Written for: Go Dog Go Cafe - Tuesday Writing Prompt (posted by Devereaux and Beth) "Write a poem about betrayal using six words." Saw you together– shameful. Bye-bye https://godoggocafe.com/2021/08/10/tuesday-writing-prompt-challenge-tuesday-august-10-2021/
Written for: The Twiglets #239 - "corners of thirst" thirsting for vacation around the corner small places ache for old times diligent study needs to quench a raging thirst for education Together they sat on a bench pondering what liquid would quench their thirst in this heat. They were sodden and beat. Entered a bar, and remained entrenched. https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
Written for: dVerse Poets Pub - Monday Quadrille #133 (posted by msjadeli) - "Stand" "Your challenge today, if you choose to accept it, is to use stand or any word that includes stand in it to write a quadrille. Describe what taking a stand means to you. Talk about how you stand in the world. Explore how you’ve seen others stand. Be at a standstill. Walk through a stand of trees." The eyewitness got on the stand– swore he would tell the truth. Raised left hand. Lied through his teeth, and an innocent man was convicted–out of reach– for thirty years. Finally truth was uncovered. No evidence, all lies. Lost confidence in judicial system. https://dversepoets.com/2021/08/09/dverse-monday-quadrille-stand/
Written for: Poetic Bloomings2 - Prompt #346 "It Suits Me Fine" Using one suit from a deck of cards for poem. Put in the ground with a spade, small wooden marker placed. Those who thought her forgotten did not see the man with a knot in his heart, as he lay a bouquet on her grave. https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
Written for: Sunday Whirl, Wordle #513 Words: breath, river, beams, touch, summer, paper, simple, needles, swallows, humble, bend, crowd She gazed at the breadth of the river as beams of summer sunlight touched the bones and bend of her back. A crowd had gathered. She felt her skin prickle like needles. Something was wrong. Humble swallows sang their simple tunes on the wing. She drew closer and spotted a lifeboat on the water. A paper sign was posted. A man had been seen jumping into the river. She wondered what his chances were. https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
Written for: Sunday Muse #172 (posted by Carrie)
She does not understand.
Why did her beloved Belle,
resplendent in scarlet
and pine green feathers,
fly away. For five days
she waits each morning,
dragging the parrot's
cage to forest's edge.
She calls, 'Belle, Belle,
please come home.' In
soaking rain mixed
with tears, she waits.
She does not understand.
http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
Written for: Poets and Storytellers United Weekly Scribblings #81: Change and Renewal (posted by Rosemary) Write about change/renewal Stagnation Still as a silent lake turned to glass in winter. There is no backward. I move forward by rote. Pulsing, pounding heart beats faster and faster– a galloping horse racing to escape stagnation. https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
Written for: Go Dog Go Cafe - Donna Matthews Challenge "Rondelet" 7 lines Lines 1, 3, and 7 are refrains Refrain lines are 4 syllables long, other lines are 8 syllables Rhyme scheme: AbAabbA Aqua water and Dad learning to swim without a tube Aqua water and Dad those bonding summers we had at local pool where water jets spewed against our backs. Will always value aqua water and Dad https://godoggocafe.com/2021/08/04/churn-with-butterflies-by-donna-matthews/
Written for: Carpe Diem #1848 Harvest harvest time sickles flash in the sunlight - reciting prayers © Chèvrefeuille (our host) Here is my attempt: tomatoes, peppers harvest shared by good neighbors salsa in the works http://chevrefeuillescarpediem.blogspot.com/
Written for: Go Dog Go Cafe - Tuesday Writing Prompt (posted by Devereuax and Beth) "Use the phrases, "red painted lips" and "silken hair". Mother and daughter out shopping for a new doll. Passing a hair salon, daughter sees manikin in the window. Painted cherry-red lips, and a wig of ebony silken hair. She turns to her mother, says, I want my doll to look just like that. https://godoggocafe.com/
Written for: The Twiglets #238 - "feels like Sunday" Carvel should have their 2-for-1 sundaes on Sundays not Wednesdays. Shelves stocked with school supplies brings to mind how I hated Sunday nights. studies painting Saturday afternoon Sunday in the Park with George She wanted to marry on Sunday, an afternoon wedding in the country. She set a date but she was late when the date proved to be a Saturday. https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
Written for: dVerse Poets Pub, Haibun Monday 8-2-21: August (posted by Frank J. Tassone) "Whatever inspires you about this month—the namesake of Augustus, the solemn memorials to inhumanity and survival, madcap vacationing in sultry weather, or traditional Autumn—write a haibun alluding to August." Blooms are ripe and full as they will get. World in color. August prepares me for a change in sleeping temperature. Air off, windows open! The light of evening begins to wane sooner, stores are showing Fall clothing, and shelves are stocked with notebooks. As a child, I saw this month as long, with plenty of time before school began. Now the month zips by like a jet plane. A perk of August is getting a variety of fresh vegetables and tomatoes from my generous neighbors. Today I made salsa. tinge on tips of maple feathery edges outlined precursor to Fall https://dversepoets.com/
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