Someday in the far distant
continuum of time
I may ask you to choose
Yet even now should I ask
that fateful question
it would be me who couldn’t stay
What benevolently cruel
Keeper of Fates placed us
in such a refutable circumstance
Does it now laugh sadistically
at the heartbreaking situation
drinking in the longing and pain
Each passing moment ripped
from the hours alone knowing
if I asked you to choose I would lose
The Sunday Whirl Wordle #623
Hosted by bwarren
Her sigh was long
filled with veiled grief
Words chosen with care
she fought to gather her courage
The young man’s slack face
displayed his depraved heights
and bare hunger for her hand
his misplaced love apparent
She slipped her cold hands
into the pockets of her cardigan
and wrapped it around her tall body
no longer his hostage she walked away
Mother Nature’s splendor
turns bright yellows and pretty whites
into spots of orange and brown
Vibrant green leaves flutter
to the ground singing a rustling tune
fading into shades of red
Autumnal breezes cool earths crust
sending a time immemorial message
to deep rich soil and plowed fields
Migratory birds flock overhead
to warmer climes with temperate blue waters and ancient nesting grounds
Deer rut and butterflies mate
their young to be born in the
earth’s awakening spring warmth
Bears forage for berries and meat
slipping into their hideaways protected from winters wrath and man’s gun
Quiet blankets the cooling ground signaling Mother Earth’s creatures
and foliage that it’s time to sleep
In response to Sammi Cox’s
Weekend Writing Prompt #332 – IDEAL
(in exactly 49 words)
They ask how I tolerate living way out here alone, close to the beach with only my dogs, my gardens and myself. Nothing to do but take care of flowers, pet my pups and walk by the sea. They’ll never understand how perfectly ideal it is here for me.
Venus so high in the sky
Boat is rocking
a seafaring lullaby
Mist surrounds the little bay
Cradling nature’s babies
throughout day
Little fish jump to get away
the big fish are hunting
hurry up before you’re prey
Ferry’s horn breaks the silence
Stragglers race to the dock
hoping they’re spotted by the pilot
All is quiet once again
Here at the little cove
peaceful in our hidden glen
“Find your mellow place,” the podiatrist crooned, inserting needles into my big toe before my foot found his mellow place.
The ledge grew closer
it’s edge ready to collapse
at the slightest weight
A need fueled push
all it would take
Fire burned through her soul
eyes locked onto the one
whose trust alone
kept her from that fall
into the throbbing hate filled rays
She watched him scroll across the screen of the glowing box he held in his large hands
The buzz of melodious string instruments assaulted her ears
He would not he could not
provoke her away from her plan
She edged closer to the opening
of the bottomless abyss
His scream of rage punching the walls
A long strong arm reached into the darkness pulling her free
He held her tightly to his chest
whispering fervently into her ear
“Now is not your time to die!”
Known around town only as That Scoundrel, for his wayward wanderings and adventurous outlays. His outrageous flirting with both women and men, dubbed him a rascal without any shame.
That Scoundrel roamed the city streets, searching for food and abject affection. As comfortable in a fancy boudoir as he was in the alley, That Scoundrel wound up, without his own home, without his own family.
It was with this in mind most times, but likely not really, that he ran into the mayor’s daughter, young Tilly. Tilly was small, but her spirit was strong. She looked at That Scoundrel and declared he must have a wash. No way could he meet her father while wearing
last Season’s dirt.
The Scoundrel cleaned up well. His hair, though somewhat shaggy and
long, lay shiny and beautifully combed. Tilly’s father entered just then and with a great big grin asked who this was hanging around in his home.
Without blinking an eye, young Tilly replied, while stroking the glistening coat of the pup.
“It’s Scoundrel this is and keeping him I am!” And that’s how That Scoundrel found a home with a loving little girl companion.
Gypsie’s Wonderful World of Words 