While tending my garden green pulling weeds and tending my beans, a blue-bird sat upon my shoulder Word-Weaver, she said to me, Can you please weave some words to save all of our trees?
As I sat upon my garden bench contemplating the little birds wish, a big old toad jumped up beside me Word-weaver, his deep voice croaked Can you please weave some words to save our swamps and streams?
Walking along the river bank my mind so full I could barely think A loud buzzing filled the air, an army of striped bees said to me, Word-Weaver can you weave some words to save our flowers, please?
My mind whirling, I strolled down to the seas edge and was amazed to see the biggest whale I’d ever seen out in the deep blue waiting for me Word-Weaver, he blew to me, please weave some words to save our seas?
The Earth beneath my feet shuddered, a vine full of luscious purple and white blooms curled around my waist then the blossoms opened and Mother Earth spoke, “Word-Weaver, would you weave some words to save me please?”
The Sunday Whirl Wordle #553 Hosted by bwarren Prompt words are: star shelf growl slip open flower crow against prowl beneath beat shot _______________
The drumbeat of insanity opens his mind to hate to prejudice against the innocent Evil leads him to prowl for those he believes beneath his star-power
Not a growl did he offer his prey slipping between pots filled with the bright flowers of spring Black crow flies in warning no one sees, no one hears
Then a shot times three brought death thrice over Inside a mother pushes her child beneath a shelf A man standing guard – falls
The mechanism made by man allows a boy to kill six more Still we fight for our rights our right to buy, carry and kill a weapon forged in the bowels of hell
I found them accidentally, late one afternoon. I wasn’t very old, just starting my teenage journey. I hated it, being a teenager. If I were honest, it wasn’t being a teenager exactly, although the pimples, flat chest and stringy hair I now sported, did not endear me to these years.
No, it was the other teenagers. Hateful creatures all, or at least most. I had gone from being a happy-go-lucky, out-going, nature-loving tomboy, to an outcast. I don’t know what happened the summer before, but whatever it was didn’t happen to me.
The girls I had played kickball with and climbed trees with; now had breasts and wore makeup and painted their nails. The boys had grown whiskers and gotten taller, and cuter.
Anyway, I became the whipping girl for the entire school. Of course, this is fifty years ago, way before anti-bullying rallies were being held.
There was one girl though. She looked to be my age but she was tiny. I don’t mean little, she was the smallest almost adult I had ever seen. She started talking to me and we became best friends very quickly. Only, she never invited me to her place and never accepted my offer to have her come to mine.
She got on the bus at the stop right after mine. I figured her mom dropped her off, because I didn’t see any farms or houses anywhere near her stop. That’s why I decided to follow her, curiosity mixed with concern. Mostly curiosity.
Except, on the bus home that day; the kids were especially vicious. Calling me names, saying I was crazy because I talked to myself all the time. I told them I was not crazy, I was talking to my best friend. One of the girls yelled out that I had an invisible friend and everybody started laughing. I turned to talk to my new best friend, but she was gone. She must’ve gotten off the bus early to get away from the awful teenagers. I felt very sad that I didn’t see her go.
On impulse, I decided to get off at the stop after mine. My friends bus stop, hoping she would be there. After the bus left, I saw her walking through a field, towards a mound I had never noticed before. As I got closer, I saw there was a door, a little door!
My friend fit through it perfectly. I waited a few minutes and then knocked lightly on the door. My friend answered wearing the prettiest dress I had ever seen. As she moved, the colors ran together and seemed to glisten.
I asked if this was where she lived and she said yes, this was where all the little people lived. I peeked inside and what I could see was wondrous. Multicolored flowers everywhere, a bright blue sky dotted with silver- lined clouds. Hills that went on forever, covered in bright green grass slowly moving back and forth in a sweet, warm breeze.
She started to close the door, but I asked her to please let me see one more time. I asked if I could come in. She shook her head no and said you had to be one of the little people to come in. I said I wished I was a little person. She looked up at me and asked if I really and truly wanted to be. I said that yes, I did, more than anything.
Anyway, this is my letter to you, Mom and Dad, to let you know I’ve gone to live with the little people in the mound, up the hill and in the field. Don’t worry, I’ll be happy here.
He loved hats. Didn’t matter what kind. Male, female, baseball, frilly, top hats, floppy hats, black hats, purple hats. If we went into any establishment that had hats for sale or even on display, he just had to try them on. All of them!
Imagine being in a hurry at the gas station, running late for some event or another and he spies a rack of cowboy hats mixed with baseball hats at the register, along with a ladies sun hat or two. It didn’t matter if they fit or not, he had to try them on. Every single one!
I tried to be diligent to due financial restrictions and of course, the old “you don’t get everything you ask for or want adage,” but I’ll admit at Christmas and on his birthday, he was loaded up with hats.
Even before Captain Jack Sparrow hit the movie screen, his favorite was his authentic pirate hat, a true tricorn purchased somewhere for some exorbitant amount I can not even remember. If he wasn’t wearing it, he was carrying it with him wherever he went.
Then came kindergarten and hats were not allowed, period. No hats of any kind, not ever, not even on casual day. Things did not go well for a very long time, until I let him carry or wear it in the car on the way to school. Then he had to take it off and put it in the front seat with me, so I wouldn’t be lonely and miss him while he was gone.
When he emerged from class, the first thing he went for was his pirate hat, before he even said hello to me. I wish I had that pirate hat now. I miss him.
The magnificent red rose stood in an antique vase on the corner of her old writing desk. The scent from this single, red rose nearly overwhelming, yet oddly calming.
The rose arrived every single Friday the thirteenth without fail, without a card stating who it was from or from where. Inevitably, no matter who stayed in this room, day or night; the rose appeared as if out of thin air.
Butler Joseph stated the red rose never appeared until the new lady of the house had arrived, so it was definitely meant for her.
Please check out Cee’s Fun Foto Challengeto discover more about this unique challenge! Current Challenge Series – Fun with Lines Today’s Challenge is STRAIGHT LINES.
Photograph by Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris Hotel Lobby – Savannah, GA
Gypsie’s Wonderful World of Words 