cross stitching pictures in a quiet afternoon sun takes time to count right
Category: Poetry Prompt Responses
hour 14 poem
the Garden in full bloom the tables empty the smell of hot chocolate filling the house with No children from the neighbour s party birthdays turn children into adults now and then
hour 11 poem
telling me the Time to go out for a walk ordering me about to play i learn to play with a ball telling me the time without knowing it to get up early in the morning letting me know he loves me without words telling…
Time Flys When You’re Having Fun
Time flys: Reading Facebook posts, waiting for the next prompt Time flys: I can’t retain my thoughts long enough to get them on the page. Time flys: John asks “You wanna go to bed or what?” I fantasize about saying yes to both. Time flys:…
hour 10 poem
cherry trees in bloom so red… just as the rash in His face… he talks to her and His face becomes more red than the cherries she holds in her hand… under White cherry blossoms His face is pale white and covered by a White…
Silver Linings and the Tale of the Faux Mom
The silver lining. All too clearly I recall the day She taught me to look for it – My faux mother. I’d been there for weeks it seemed. Would they never take me home? “I go outside to see Mommy now.” I told her. “What??”…
hour 9 poem
so many flowers in the clearing of the forest with No fairytales… just cars parked along the way before the old castle in ruins… No crowds of suitors in armour… just a window in a crack in the wall towards a bench of Young lovers……
Chicken
So there are these chickens We count them Or refrain from it Stopping ourselves Because we shouldn’t There is always the one Trying to cross the road For some philosophical reason everyone wonders about Why the chicken? Why not a cow? Why can’t we just count eggs And…
#18
There is no place like home. There is no place I call home. There are places I come from, there are places I’ve been to, there are places I’m going. There is a space I’m using, a place that’s mine for occupancy, but is it…
hour 8 poem
we need to follow the footsteps already there… fresh snow this spring we need to clean from the Apple tree we need to Watch before we need to go again… We need a New house every season