Category: Uncategorized

Image by Jodi McKinney

*****

Old fashioned wooden fence keeping us out

Or rails of timber keeping them in

Buildings in the distance, a house, a home, perhaps a farm

Summer morning mist rising throughout

The heat of the grass

Combined with the coolness of the air

Green warm meadow soaked with nightly dew

Now water vapor returning to the clouds

Seen as a summer morning dreamscape

What fairy tables could be hidden there

The leftovers from a mysterious night

Tiny creatures scurrying home before the sun’s hot glow

A tranquil scene showing summer’s rotating atmosphere.

*****

91 words

https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2018/09/03/fffaw-challenge-181st/

How appropriate for today.

~~~~~~~~~~

A tell all book

From behind the scenes

Bet it makes the big man scream

Since no faith or even trust

They did and said what they must

Now many secrets are revealed

Telling how they really feel

They can whine and they can cry

Try as they might to deny

What all of us have suspected

Since wannabe dictator was elected.

https://dailyaddictions542855004.wordpress.com/2018/09/02/daily-addictions-2018-week-35/

Torment is reading excerpts of the new book by Bob Woodward about the Trump presidency. Will this damning revelation be Trump’s demise? We can speculate, but what if he does get impeached? Is the “devil you know” better than his replacement? Or should we rely on Quicksilver to save us all? My choice is Q!

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/09/06/torment/

Making goulash the other day

Cut up a big onion on the way

It wasn’t one of the sweet ones I adore

So decided to use less not more

Then I surveyed the can cupboard fare

Thought I had some tomato sauce there

Not even a tiny can of paste

Is my goulash going to waste?

I had already joined the onion and beef

Then spied tomato soup, a relief

Saucy suspicions as I contemplate

Using it for the sauce complete

No choice I had so threw it in

Delicious, as it dribbles my chin.

*****Found some cool sheets of substitutions:

September Writing Prompts

Image: DeviantArt

Heart

The tears

All the truth

Now hacked away

The time has come for the final goodbye.

Weekly Writing Prompt #157

Are you my sweetie?

You’re round and soft in the middle

Hard on the outside but all I need

It’s that string I need to pull

Yes there you go, my yoyo

One string pull to let you free

I want to hold you like the toy you are

I won’t try to mold you like my silly putty

But you are my silly, aren’t you?

You are my sweetest treat

No moon pies for me, just you.

**

https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2018/09/05/three-things-challenge/

I couldn’t grasp what was going on. Out of the trapdoor in the attic, a form, a shell of a person, flew into the room. It was grey, no, red, then it was black, then grey again. A huge puzzle to the eyes and nubilious in the judgment of an experienced mind.

I did not believe my eyes. My brain started to sizzle as I peered at the spectre. My vision would not infuse my brain to understand what I was seeing.

A man in the corner fell back into his chair in shock. It was a hagridden image of his dead wife. It swirled around him and lifted him back towards the trapdoor.

The unfortunate man was never seen again. After close inspection of the attic no remains were found and the others who witnessed it, never spoke of it again.

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/09/03/wordle-209/

Sitting on the fence

The peanuts had not appeared

Observing, waiting

Wild tail twitching, nose sniffing

Hope children did not forget

http://ramblingsofawriter2016.com/2018/09/05/weekly-tanka-prompt-poetry-challenge-week-112-hope-observing/

This is what happens when you can’t sleep. You start thinking of songs with lyrics like this one:

https://rugby843.blog

Summer died that night. It should have been like any other night of vacation. Most of my friends and I spent our free time riding in Joe’s red and white corvette, singing and laughing. We would go to the candlepin bowling alley and drink Coca-Cola and eat salt laden french fries with ketchup.

I was pretty good at bowling, but it didn’t matter at all to any of us, we were just having fun.

Joe was a good driver, even with all of us packed in distracting him. We never had an inkling of danger.

The night summer died for all of us was Joe’s accident after leaving us off to park the car. A drunk patron from the bowling alley ran full force over Joe as he walked from the car to the building. None of the rest of us could believe our beloved friend was killed. Such is the innocence of youth.

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/08/31/first-line-friday-august-31st-2018/