Winter wonderland, my frozen feet! These ice bound mornings I have to cross that lake and head over to Joe’s field to check on his cows. Three more days til he’s back. I hope my knees last that long. By the way Mildred, his water wheel is completely frozen over so we need to take water for the animals. I can’t wait til spring!
I could send it in a letter My ideas to make us better Tears fill my eyes making them wetter Think I should just forget her It all comes down to selecting words Not the everyday ones she’s heard But something new, spectacular Romance being the vernacular I am not the charming prince Not written a letter since The 60s when I was a beatnik Forgot the how’s – hook, and trick.
Since this is SoCS, I’ve taken advantage of this in my latest posts, I can say, because it’s my right, that our president and his cabinet, are trying to erase history as I write! Tearing down plaques and photographs while he sits surrounded by gold atrocities, rolling out lies and odd words he can’t pronounce…it is all a nightmare, but REAL😳😱🤪
Where are you, altruism? Are you hiding too? Honesty and truthfulness are black and blue. Battered around these days, cannot make a goal or run. The beauty of your words are no longer fun. We think we will and can instill a sense of right and wrong. Our children need it, maybe sing a new song? One of love and peace for all. The chances of this, I think, are very small.
Respond to this Friday Faithfuls challenge by writing anything about why it is difficult to understand things we are unable to see, or discuss the mysterious qualities of light, or explain why some of the old Greek stories helped us to learn about the world, or anything else that you feel fits.
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Anything that fits, a broad prompt allowed
I think of persons hiding, people cowed
The light is their enemy
In a hide and seek game
Thugs keep searching
They don’t even need a name
Grabbing, herding
Just cattle to their mind
Thugs’ violence so grave
Even darkness cannot save
We used to think putting thugs into the light
Being judged by actions we can clearly sight
No more the safety behind a hidden stave
Hunters use violence, the grievous way they behave.
Julie started jumping up and down. For months, she asked Joe to take her to the fair, squealed when she saw her two favorite rides, the Ferris wheel and the Kamikaze. “Oh gosh, Joe, look! They have the Kamikaze!”
“The Kamikaze is exactly what it says; ride on that you’ll probably crash! The safety inspectors get paid to overlook things in these cheap fairs. It’s too dangerous.”
After the Ferris wheel, Julie insistently pulled at Joe’s arm. Finally they strapped themselves in and after two wild jerky rounds, Julie threw up in Joe’s lap where she was hiding.
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