MICHAEL A home is a place Of love, acceptance, Peace, and security. Your arms are My home, my solace My peace, and my life. I can’t live without you.
Category: Half Marathon Poem
A Cold
A cold in olden times Rests easy with Vicks VapoRub, Mirinda and SkyFlakes. In this, the present, A cold demands a drop of blood, Cold steel on your skin, a drug. And she sleeps, it’s winter.
Hour 8 – (Sevenling)
She her hair was always a mess As told by her only pet crow When she was startled by a boom By her laid a locked chest Inside it her secrets she’d stow And return behind her loom …But she had long been…
Sevenling (our planet)
Our planet is a miracle: dramatic waterfalls, soaring mountains, brilliantly colored birds. Our planet is in peril: whales and dolphins washing up on our shores, starving polar bears, the collapse of ecosystems. The time is now.
Prompt 10, Hour 8 Sevenling ?
The yard had an unmarked grave. sad flowers, pine trees lined up like soldiers, And the blue house with treasures. A ghost lingered. The sun set too soon, shadows convinced the children there were monsters And the blue house has no treasure map. Nobody came…
Sevenling (a summer evening) [8 – #sevenling]
A summer evening Caprese, wine, and the last of the sun With friends on the patio. A winter evening with Hot chocolate, a book, and a roaring fire Just me alone on the couch. I’ll take winter.
Butterflies
A verdant meadow flush with bluebonnets rushes by under their tiny feet. The smaller one points and cries joyously, and the elder squeals with delight, and both run toward a fluttering gem. A black and yellow glory chased by two giggling pixies in the warm…
Hour #8, Prompt #10
Sevenling We spent years looking for the perfect house – 200 years old, wide pine floors, walk-in fireplace with huge central chimney, beech tree, and space for gardens. We lived longest in an angular house, modern with high ceilings in odd places, lots of…
Sevenling (Two directions)
Two directions traversed at once the map folded in half and deliberately marked Signposts conspicuously absent the face of the compass blank with the needle missing This is quite a journey (22 June 2019, Hour Eight)
Where’s the Gratitude?
Ripe plums, a neighbor’s gift, and all I can think of is what do I do with these things. Eat them?