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Hungry for a touch
from another human being
The feel of a hand
trailing a weathered cheek

Eardrums shrinking
starved for the sound
of a deep voice
whispering love words

Soul aches for someone
to care to listen to cradle
in arms strong and gentle
loving and kind

A laugh at a bad joke
a hug for a tear
Debating politics
while dinner is shared

Pull down the covers
on a well made bed
Kiss sweetly goodnight
to do all over again

In response to Ragtag Daily Prompt Tuesday – The word CELEBRATE
Posted by Perpetua

Oh holiday
how you rend
and tear a tortured
soul

Reminding us
unencumbered
by loves vows
and chains

Little cards
with floaty hearts
resplendent in bright
red

Only serve
to emphasize
no flowers or candy
have we

When finally
this day is done
the calendar reminds
us cruelly

That we are alone
no one is at home
next holiday we’ll
still be lonely

Away you go!
Away you go
While I stay home
At home I stay

To toil away
To toil away
Days without end
Endless days

The sea your bride
The sea your bride
Beckons you away
Away from my side

Lonely nights missing you
Lonely nights missing you
Weeks to long months
Long months of solitude

Sadness breeds anger
Sadness breeds anger
Leads to needing more
Needing leads to danger

Off to play
Off to play
The sea calls you back
Home is cast away

Away you go!
Away you go
While I stay home
At home I stay

Culture first realized a change was needed here Sorry for the time wasted not proud of the current me generation Mother Earth now owned

Those in the know created a dictionary of resolutions To correct the horrendous errors of the past issuing warnings or else the Earth would soon fail

In response to Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Prompt #298 Challenge in 30 Words – Jejune

Girls sprouting curves
boys wearing rolled up tees
mimicking young James Dean
While she just stayed the same
life was not such a boon
for a boring girl named Jejune

In Response to SueW and GC’s Weekly Prompts Word Challenge Weekend Challenge: OLD

Heart aches
broken open anew
after vowing
it wouldn’t be you

That would then
burst through walls
built over time and age
forging scabs unhealed

A tiny spot left untouched
hoping some day
to feel safe and loved
until I was old

That day did come
out came the sun
even the falling rain
danced with joy

That a woman
had found
the one true love
only to have it taken away

In response to Roger Schipp with A Writer’s Community picture prompt above for Flash Fiction For The Purposeful Practitioner:
2023:Week #7

On the bottom again, thank goodness. There’s at least seven old junkards on top of me. I can see myself in the reflection of their broken windows. I can’t believe that’s me.

I was a car salesman’s dream. When I arrived to the showroom from Michigan, I was handled with kid-gloves, literally. Anyone who touched me or worked on me had to wear special gloves so my new paint, Aqua 100, wouldn’t get smudged. scratched or damaged.

A young man sauntered into the showroom during one of the hottest days that summer. He looked at me and we fell in love immediately. He was glorious. He didn’t haggle, hesitate or argue. He asked the salesman how much I cost, pulled out his wallet and paid full price for me on the spot.

We drove all the way to the shore with my windows down and my new age A.R.C. Stereo Tape Deck blaring at the top of my volume knob. He sang along with every song, even the oldies. To say I was in automobile heaven couldn’t describe the wonderful times we had.

That man and I stayed together even after his hair turned all white and he couldn’t sing anymore. My paint had faded to near white too, but he still looked at me with love in his eyes.

Sometimes he’d sit in the drivers seat and pretend we were on the road again, even though neither of us ran at all anymore. Then he was gone and a big yellow truck came and pulled me away. All of my once lovely chrome was yanked away from my body and parts of my motor disemboweled, before I was put on a rickety old flatbed and brought here.

It’s almost my time beneath the crusher. But look, it’s the man and does he ever look dapper and he’s swinging my keys just like the first day he purchased me. I hope we get to put the windows down again.

The End

In response to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers Challenge 02/10/23 to write a complete story in 100 words or less with a Beginning, Middle and End, using the picture prompt above.

He was tired. Frustrated. Angry and now, hopeful. She had left him a message. He didn’t know how she managed, yet each time he was on the very verge of giving up, she wrangled a way to drop a clue, leave a sign that he was on the right track. That she was still alive.

It had only been one night. An accidental meeting that had completely altered his life. They’d danced, eaten unfamiliar foods and tried a myriad of exotic tropical drinks. They had spent an otherworldly night together on his yacht, and then she was gone.

He hunted.

In response to Living Poetry’s February Visual Poetry Prompt posted by Bartholomew Barker

Oh! How wonderful it would be
to float like a balloon in the sky.
So high!

Colorful panels of purple, green
and a splash of brilliant gold.
Too bold!

The skirt to match embroidered so fine,
then carried up and out of the way.
Far away!

Passing by seagulls, herons and planes filled with people flying over the sea.
So free!

Landing once the day is done, happy to get from back there to here on only
Hot Air!

In response to dVerse Poets Pub Quadrille #169: STAR (in 44 words)
Posted by whimsygizmo

There is a star
a most special star
only I know is there

In times of stress or need
or when I have deep doubts
that is when she appears

Though now I am old
I will always know
my Grandma shines for me