I am not depressed Nor am I starved for attention Maybe a bit for affection But it is not the worst I’m starting to wonder though Will I never find a partner?
Category: Poetry Prompt Responses
#24- Sunshine
Sunshine yellow, bright smiles Under the warmth of the perfect blue sky Never a dull day, never black or grey She was a pocket full of happiness Humming to herself, a skip in her step If you saw her, you would smile too No chance…
His Tenderness Abounds /prompt 22/6am
It’s through His tenderness that we, Learn to love unconditionally He leads us by His divine example His patience unwavering and ample If nothing more we get to be Sinners that repent for His glory. Come one come all you’ll be relieved His arms are…
Stardust (2022 Poem 24)
Stardust You loved that song I had forgotten Until this moment Now my heart aches You loved daisies too I will not forget again I would carve it all into my palms Before I too am Stardust (Prompt: Write a poem that starts and ends…
(Hour 24) 21.30pm-22.30pm. TEXT PROMPT: poem that starts & end with same word (5 options given or choose your own)
5 one-line pomes about: hope, stardust, cheese, sleep, & shoes i. hope sleeps in cheese shoes ii. shoes hop over sleeping stardust iii. sleep cheesy hope in your stardust shoes iv. cheese stardust slopes hopewards v. stardust chews sleep and shows hope
Hour 24 : Fear
Words seem empty And they can betray Pushing things to the edge Knowing my faults The horror sinks in You would no longer be near Filled up with remorse If it’s worth, I am sorry Turning in to a monster You know very well Our…
The White Wolf
Ever hear the one about the white wolf? There was a woman of extraordinary beauty She was desired by every man But there were none who could attract her attention She was often seen walking in the woods Where she would gather berries And was…
Hour Twenty-Four: Birdsong
Birdsong birdsong cheery twatter morning light trigger some squabbles, some swagger, some sugar request and response chirpy commotion birdsong
The Grapes of Wrath
He must not like books, but he thinks he likes me. Strange fool that he is. Or was… Really? Is that still the reason for all this gang stalking? All upset after 40 years because I refused to wave in your parade? Did Harry come…
Poem 23: The Terror
In the winter of 1849 – or so we think – the wooden bones of The Terror were finally broken. Encroaching ice claimed this stubborn blight on a wild frozen sea without remorse. Those still seeking its shelter were doomed to walk stark glacial landscapes…