Hour 22: Crack

The would bustles here

Always moving quickly

Missing small things

Like life growing in cracks

These small flowers fighting

Living where trees gave up long ago

Living where most grass is fake now

Surviving even when no one cares


Okay now I am caught up again and I can finish this thing!! (I say with little confidence since I already fell too asleep once.

Hour 21: Cats

Small and soft

Quick and sharp

They can love deeply

But hate deeply as well

They like to be the center of attention

Unless you give them too much attention

Or try to pet them too much

Fickle loyal creatures these cats


Yay one more typed up. I writing everything in a notebook before posting. So I had to write up a few quickly before I started posting to get caught up again. But I now am (just one more to post).

Hour 20: God of Light

One would think he should glow and shine

If you meet him you would guess shadows are his

But then he makes a lamp shine

And that’s when you see

He starts glowing down deep

And then the light spills from him

Almost like it was waiting to escape him


Woo two more to type up and Im caught up again. I did forget to say the last poem I found my own prompt just like this one. Sometimes you need something else to get you going. 

Hour 19: Ruins

They stand more crooked than a wall should

They have crumbled and fallen

Those great walls that once towered

Now bowing to time

Like the lords to their king once here

These ruins just a shadow of the past


Soooo I thought I had set an alarm to get up again and work on these. But either I turned it off and stayed asleep or someone in the house turned it  off on me. But I’m still going and I didn’t miss the end of the whole deal. So I can catch up and sleep once Im fully done.

Hour 18: A Memory

My first heart break I was told

Cry as much as you need but remember

Soon they will just be a memory

In that moment it seem a lie

But soon enough I’d moved on

And each young love was the same

New memories from young pain

But then you died

And the pain felt a lot older

I wasn’t ready for you to be a memory

To only remember hugs and laughter

But you keep my memories bright

Even through missing you


I’ve been noticing this year I am skipping a lot of the prompts… Hmm I must be very picky this year oh well. I am still here and still putting out poems and that is all that matters at 1am!!

Hour 17: Cloud Field

A whole field of clouds

Waiting for a strong wind

So they might travel the world

Starting out as a big full cloud

Soon enough

It seems to lose the fluff

It shrinks and shrinks

Till there is no cloud anymore


I liked that last image of the close up of the flower. I had fun with this one. 

Hour 16: Car

I sit in the backseat

Earbuds in covering the sounds of the road

I bop my head and watch sometimes

Flat and woody to hills and valleys

Finally making it to cornfields  far as I can see

The scene changes quick when you stop watching

When you look up from wizards and dragons

I am home and I start the quest

I look up and I see the new scene

In time with the rise of action

And I’m back into the quest saving the kingdom

I look up heros done and happy

I have arrived


My family will try to make it to some extended family’s place once a year. But we drive and it is a nice nine hour car ride. We do go through all these scenes on our trip. (it’s weird sometimes going from state to state seeing how each has a different type of main landscape) 

Hour 15: Freckles

I didn’t have freckles when I was young

I noticed the first one when my first crush broke my heart

The next was when my best friend became my enemy

Each heart break brought a new freckle, a new scar

The deeper the connection the darker the freckle

My darkest appeared the day my grandma passed

Each one a story of love and loss

The physical to my emotional scars


I wasn’t feeling this hours prompt so I decided to skip it. Pinterest has been useful for when I switch out a prompt.

Hour 14: Lost

On days when the world is too much

And I feel lost in neon and concrete

I walk into the woods and breath in

I let the ground reawaken my soul

I let the stream bubble joy into my chest

I walk and walk until I can feel myself

Until I can face chrome and glass again

Hour 13: Puckish

Walking down streets and singing

Nabbing a roll here and telling tales there

I tell Old Nanny May there is dirt upon her dress

And giggle while she looks

I pretend to throw the dogs a stick

And chuckle while they chase air


This is a poem I might need to come back to. I just can’t figure out where I should go from here. I like the idea of it, but it feels like something is missing.

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