I let him off the lead, let him be free and fly about, my not realizing he was a vindictive lout.
I found a treat and then I whistled him back in retrieve, what happened next is very sad for this peristerophile to believe.
He started swooping down in a manner frighteningly hasty and landed on my finger, deciding it looked more tasty.
He often walked this path, daydreaming, especially on days like this. Shadows, sun streaking inbetween the trees, beautiful to his eyes. His thoughts always turned to Laura, with anticipation of hair so lovely, blonde, with streaks of brown, just enough to highlight her wavy tresses. Images flooded his mind–playing with soft curls caressing her ivory skin. There wouldn’t be a more perfect picture.
As he continued further into the grove, trees with sturdy brown trunks reminded him of her deep brown eyes, tinted with gold sparkles when she smiled back at him.
A few steps and they would meet again.
Mr. Jones had a legendary weathervane atop his woodshed. It was hand carved with woodcuts of the constellation Orion, the hunter. Since Mr. Jones was an archer and bow hunter, it was his favorite among the stars. The weathervane was unusual because he had inserted a glowing type of paint showing the basic star formation that depicted Orion, and at night the form duplicated the night sky vision.
The neighborhood was sparse in his end of town but he would get frequent visitors, especially on Halloween. The little ones were frightened, only seeing the glowing dots and not knowing what they meant. He welcomed any visitors, usually having a savory treat to share. The rule of thumb for Mr. Jones was to be accommodating to all folks and if they shared an interest in the constellation, even more so.
It was puzzling to him why anyone should be scared of his woodcarving. Shaped very carefully for the hunters image itself, he had smoked the irregular borders to create a fading effect when observed against the night sky.
Unlike some homes that did not invite the costumed spies, he welcomed them and was happy to tell the history of his creation atop the shed. This attitude kept the older local children from doing shenanigans in his yard on All Hallows’ Eve.
https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/10/23/wordle-175/
We all knew Clara had big feet. Her sisters had big feet, her brothers had big feet too, but Clara’s were extraordinarily large. Of course this caused her harm, physically and mentally.
Walking, much less running, was extremely difficult because she couldn’t get out of her own way. Her feet were so huge that her legs couldn’t get far enough ahead of the first foot, and tripping herself up was a daily occurrence, usually many times per day.
It was truly a sad state poor Clara was in, but physical pain wasn’t the only problem. You can imagine how much ridicule and teasing she went through because of those “clodhoppers”. That was only one of the names she was called daily. Her schoolmates would snicker with singsong phrases, “Clara’s clodhoppers clop right over you…”
As time went on, Clara started to grow bigger and her feet didn’t seem so out of proportion. Less and less people noticed only her feet, because she grew to a height of seven feet and they weren’t as prominent when the rest of her body grew larger.
Adapting to her new image, Clara said to herself, “okay, my clodhoppers can clopps right! We’ll be fine.”
Honors mean nothing
When loss of brothers remains
Parades and medals
Recalling their sacrifice
Cause memories, tears and pain.
https://ramblingsofawriter2016.com/2017/10/25/weekly-tanka-prompt-challenge-week-68-medals-memories
You may think you know this person who was our President.This video gives a little insight into his personal identity.
She dressed in black robes
Iridescent wings are gone
A fairy no more
The costume disguised her well
Causing eerie reactions.
If you reach
Take the leap
Emerse yourself fully
Be open, not square
Let your emotions play
Happiness will grow,
And life will flow easily.
It was the only solution, at least that’s how it started. Rena and her sister Lucy were pouring over some books about the occult they had sneaked home from the library. Under a flashlight lumined blanket they nervously searched the pages, hoping to find an answer to their problem. Not actually believing in curses or spells, they decided to read whatever they could find in the library. The idea of such a solution came from a school friend, Mava. She listened to the sisters’ plight and matter-of-factly explained what voodoo and shamans could do.
Lucy and Rena were desperate. At the advanced age of thirteen they had lived with their abusive parents too long . They were tired of the horrid conditions and needed help. There were no onsite counselors in the school, or helpful doctors or nurses. They had come to the conclusion it was up to them to find the answer. They were too young to run away and had no place to go if they tried. Mava had overheard them discussing any possible options and suggested a spell. “I’ve seen it work” she offered. At first the girls were skeptical and pushed the idea aside. One night, after doing everything expected and still getting a beating, they decided.
The library books told of many things that would stop certain behaviors or start them. The girls were fascinated and started to believe maybe Mava was right. After finding what they thought was a spell they could actually try, they consulted Mava. After waiting for some free time on a Saturday, the girls met Mava at an old establishment, “Reverend Zombie’s House of Voodoo”. The three young women walked in with Mava leading as if she already knew her way around. They purchased the ingredients needed and left as quickly as possible. There was no questioning by the Reverend except a smile that passed between him and Mava.
The recipe was simple, combine the ingredients into a fine powder and add it to the (victim)’s drink. This was an easy task, because the girls served their parents at mealtime. After dinner it was only a matter of adding the mix to their tea and wait. Cleaning up, they hurried to their room feigning tiredness and hoped to escape the usual beratement. The parents settled in for their tea and were glad for their daughters’ early retirement to their beds. The sisters huddled beneath the quilts hoping the tea would work.
The next morning they woke to hear unusual rumbling in the kitchen. Their parents were never awake at this time so the girls quickly dressed and investigated. “Good morning, my dearies!” trilled their mother’s voice. “Breakfast is ready.” Rena and Lucy looked at each other, completely shocked. Their mother never fixed breakfast for anyone. They were setting themselves at the kitchen table, surprised to hear their mother humming as she plated their food. This had never happened before. As they sat next to each other at the table, they tightly squeezed each other’s hand. Thinking the tea worked, they decided to enjoy their mother’s new personality for as long as it lasted. The behavior lasted the entire day. Monday morning the girls could hardly wait to tell Mava of their success. She just nodded answering, “I thought it would work”.
The tea solution would last quite a few days and then another visit to the Reverend was necessary. The sisters became regular customers of the curious shop.
https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/10/24/photo-challenge-186/
Would it be so wrong
Offering to touch your heart
Would it leave a scar
RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #172 Wrong&Touch
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