HOUR 11 (My own prompt, a haiku) LIFE AFTER 65 – PART 2   Retirement soon 4 months will fly by quickly Options are plenty!  

I ripped the elbow of my jacket on a broken lightbulb hidden in a bucket that smelled vaguely of cinnamon. It was in that carport down by the bayou, where the mural of the dying elk, blood the color of beets, stares as if pleading…

The Unknown Walk with me Into the world of unreality Where everything is impossible And nothing is real Take my hand Trust me to lead you safely To a destination you have only dreamed about If you want to see what is down the path…

I took the worn path. My life has been a struggle by the choices I have made. I’d do it again. For conflict builds character, And I do not fear conflict.

in a simple black pen ballpoint or gel Bic or Papermate Sharpie or Pilot magic resides It translates thoughts into words words into images images into feelings There is power in a simple black pen A power to build A power to destroy A power…

Dark, jewel-like drops of honey clung to my lips, like crystalline amber, they glistened and sparkled with the throaty hum of bees, incessant droning drowning out all other thoughts from my head. I plunge a hand straight in; bee charmer, lover and friend of insects,…

In the realm of the mundane and plain, behold the humble paperclip. So small but mighty, a saviour of papers. Bending and twisting, an emblem of order in a chaotic space. A humble paperclip, uniting pages, dreams and thoughts

A book is nothing but paper printed on with ink Yet whole new worlds live within Transporting each reader into new dimensions Setting them free from their stress Their worries Their fears Their feeling of being “stuck”  

All my friends are funeral singers and yet their differing pitches hit the same note of harmony within my heart.

The lead digs into the paper, magnificent words are then made there