Trying something new for a basket
Moms gone, couldn’t ask her
Recipe help I surely need
I’m not of her culinary breed
She could throw together anything
While I struggle with napkin rings
Lacking all the proper ingredients
Used the net to be expedient
Trying to use the substitutes
Not advised by cooking institutes
A small change here, a little there
Disaster awaits, diners beware!
https://dailyaddictions542855004.wordpress.com/2018/06/17/disaster/
Unleashed sad tears soaked
Nourishing desert feelings
Barren heart revived
COLLEEN’S WEEKLY #TANKA TUESDAY #POETRY CHALLENGE NO. 89, “DRY & WET,” #SYNONYMSONLY
Just found this guy today, love his humour, give him a gander!
Happiness is its Tuesday, not Monday!
https://stephaniecolpron.wordpress.com/2018/06/19/tuesdayuseitinasentence-happiness/
Sitting at the typewriter, thinking, what to write? Should I write of my lost love, the man who suddenly appeared and fulfilled my every need? Should I write a poem explaining how much I still love him even though he’s gone? Could I even express the sorrow I feel for losing him?
I’ve written about him before, in specific terms, height, build, eyes, those gray blue eyes that pierce my soul when I look, really look, into them. I’ve told stories of his charm, his cleverly written expressions, his wit that kept surprising me even after three years of contact? That was the original attraction, laughing at his witty remarks, liking his ideas of humor alongside my own. It drew us together.
And then, and then it became more. Almost an obsession, delving deeper into our feelings, backgrounds, how our personalities merged perfectly.
No, I don’t think I should.
Up from the depths she rose, always looking, striving upward, never to be held down. They tried everything to keep her down, under the mass of disappointment. They thought they had trapped her into despair. They tied her up, fenced in her mind, her ideas were all too new to them and they wouldn’t accept it. They were afraid of any new concepts she offered, answers to their age old questions, and buried her under their fear.
She held onto one thing they hadn’t known for centuries, and very little of it survived their attempts to destroy her, but you can see it there above her. A tiny bit of love she found in their universe, and it will not be daunted, it is surviving, and will grow until it saves them.
https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/06/19/photo-challenge-219/
Grandchildren love to play tricks on us. Sometimes it’s all of them in cahoots with chaos and sometimes it’s hilarious. Recently a trick was played on me,and it backfired.
The middle three came calling with a friend, we talked a while, it was late and dark outside. One has a key so when they leave, he locks the door. I’m usually on my bed at that time of night and not in my wc.
We all said our good nights and love yous and then I heard the door. I didn’t hear it lock. I got into the chair to check the lock, suspicious that something was up. As I reached the living room, great laughter as they jumped out of the darkness, then disappointment as I calmly ignored them. They forget I’ve been around for a long time….
No longer a need for WP prompts
We’ve plenty of writers to do the job
They’re popping up from everywhere
So thank their efforts and use them here
A variety is offered to you
Many options for you to choose
So come on people let’s see of what you’re made
Employ those prompters to make their day!
***Since I’ve been less than humorous the last bit, here’s an apology of sorts, dancing required:
https://thehouseofbailey.wordpress.com/2018/06/19/scotts-daily-prompt-employ/
“Lilies of the Field” with Sidney Poitier. You cannot go wrong watching Mr. Poitier!
When traveling African-American handyman Homer Smith (Sidney Poitier) stops by a farm in rural Arizona, he is welcomed by a group of Roman Catholic nuns who have emigrated from Germany. Realizing that the farm needs a lot of work, Homer takes on a number of repair projects for the women, who are led by the headstrong Mother Maria (Lilia Skala). Impressed by Homer’s kindness and strong work ethic, the nuns come to believe that he has been sent by God to help build them a chapel.
Awards: Academy Award for Best Actor, Golden Globe Award for Best Actor – Motion Picture – Drama, Golden Globe Award for Best Film Promoting International Understanding, Writers Guild of America Award for Best Written Comedy
My favorite teacher was like a second mom, since we students were with her from September to June every year, most of the day, not including bussing from school to home. She was a single woman, young, from New York City, NY. She had a big German Shepard she brought to the little one room schoolhouse once in a while. I still have a photo of him sitting up in a desk like a human.
She was beautiful and kind. Everyone loved her and were all sad to hear she died at a young age. We did have our moments. For me it was a battle of making me wear glasses at age eleven which was not recommended by my optometrist.
The second battle was between her, me and milk. I lived on a dairy farm but I hated milk, made me throw up if I was forced to drink it. I had to draw a milk bottle on the blackboard every morning after the Pledge of Allegiance for every glass of milk I drank. My mom helped by adding molasses or chocolate milk mix to the horrid white liquid. It was embarrassing but I still loved her even then because I knew she was concerned for my skinny body.
I must have had a sign on my forehead, “teachers, please embarrass me” because as a shy freshman in high school, a science teacher used to make me step to the front of the class to answer a question.
So there you have it, the two most influential teachers I remember. The good and the ugly.
https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/06/17/sunday-writing-prompt-teachers/
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