Hour twelve, from the image prompt:

The lure of disappointment’s strong, To get it wrong And let it go “I told you so”. It’s hard to keep on fighting when I could give in Twelve minutes late, And such a state… But I won’t take the easy out I’ll stand and…

1 At last I am home with you We are tucked in bed sheets clean and fresh pillows cool and soft (not too soft) Side by side your head resting on my chest we are warm comfortable safe happy 2 My eyes close I hear…

The harvest moon was stunning Shining through the torn canopy of our stolen Jeep. We laughed and cried and held each other At the edge of Glory Lake Knowing the panic fear and horror, of the invasion was far behind us.

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…