WORDS OF LIFE   Sunflower, Sunflower in the yard; Why is poetry so friggin’ hard. Your beauty is inspiring . . . My thoughts perspiring . . . The sun itself has me charred!   Knitting is not something I do… It’s a gift given…

If I were to write to you, It would be as if all The unspoken words Gathering onto paper To never be sent by Mail, conventional or otherwise. For you are out of reach Of objects, and limited to Thoughts and dreams And memories.

“And with these words I will create an immortal spine.”   I abandoned all hope for the prompts. I am just not in it today. Guess I will stick to my #instapoetry style and start cranking them out.

For my last official poem of the day, I followed the prompt. Don’t panic You may feel that there’s not a minute to spare but the moon is not bound by your constraints If you cannot hear her whispers at midnight do not be alarmed…

I like list prompts/tasks. I’ve used all 8 words. And added a twist of my own. (All of which equals … LONG. BREAK! WAHOO!) 4WD the moon is a lake of glory glory silvering the jeep you drive drive so carelessly over over the breastbone…

Why do we call it warfare when war is anything but fair? Why do we call it a funeral when it’s anything but fun? Why do we get to ask these questions? – Because words.

Listen to the song; But I hear noisy chords and Mumbled mushy words   The Song Lue August 13, 2016