“Mind your head,” they said, “or you may end up dead,” they said.
Cheerfully, I acknowledge the caution sign as it was just as they had said.
Funny, I still don’t mind my head; I say what I think instead and carry on my way without an ounce of dread.
– Written for Sonya’s (Only 100 Words) Three Line Tales: Week 230. Photo prompt by
K. Mitch Hodge. WC 67.
I weep for you –
A long lost friend,
Like a faded memory,
Of when we would play pretend –
A familiar street
Where I used to roam,
When my youth shielded me from your bitter truth
And the street lights led me home –
But with time my eyes were opened
And you did not look the same –
An empty ache still plagues me,
Something I cannot quite name –
It makes me weep –
The past that I was privileged to know,
An illusion that did not see the pain,
Just shades of perception, my ego –
Oh, America of my childhood, you shifty fellow,
You shady lady; I see you now in the shadows
Mocking me for my naiveté — and awareness —
Promising that I shall know no repose.
– USA Abstract by AK Rockefeller .
baby’s breath at dawn
rustles hair and newborn leaves
rouse in spring’s soft breeze
– Written for First Baptist Church Worcester Poetry Group 2020 Challenge #1 Haiku FBCWoo Poetry Group.
– On Dragonfly Wings with Buttercup Tea’s Sunday Trees #416 – November 3, 2019. Photo ©2019 Leara Nicole Morris-Clark.
A murmur from the crowd —
Raging awful sound
Cold and bold, growing louder
Stoked by fear uncontrolled —
Shouts of doubters who were sold
Imperative truth among raucous
A still small voice still speaking veracity
To those who will listen
– Written for dVerse Quadrille #85, prompt was “voice.” WC 44.
twisted bare vines crawl
all around the weathered cross –
air whirrs with power
– Written for Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge #266. Word prompts were “Twisted” & “Cross” or synonyms of those.
There came a fork in the yellow brick road, so I took the rainbow path less traveled and left Kansas far behind.
A quaint and eerily welcoming chapel materialized at the end of the line and beckoned me to its door.
The tiny Irish preacher invited me in, then he offered me a pint of emerald green lager along with some advice: “Always be a first-rate version of yourself and not a second-rate version of someone else, oh and you probably shouldn’t have eaten those mushrooms.”
– Written for Sonya’s (Only 100 Words) Three Line Tales: Week 184. Photo prompt by Dave Herring. WC 90.