The Bag Lady

Because of the bottomless cups of coffee Santa had consumed, his bloodshot eyes were starting to clear and his vision turned to the bleak dry landscape. He longed for that billowing breast of new fallen snow and the adventurous world trip in his sleigh. He wasn’t exactly borrowing any poet’s rhyme, but he did like the vision it created.

Santa decided to venture into the brisk breeze of his yard and check on the reindeer. He wondered if there had been any new breakthroughs in the caring of special reindeer with flying abilities. When he first consulted a veterinarian, hundreds of years ago, when he realized his deer could actually fly, he was thought to be berserk. Had he been drinking too much elderberry brine, the vet asked? But then after a brief demonstration, even the vet knew Santa’s secret. From then on, it was handed down from generation to generation and Santa’s reindeer were always kept in perfect health. After all, there was a tradition to be upheld.

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/09/24/bonus-wordle-the-letter-b/

Wilting efforts on my blog lately. I think you’ll agree. Maybe it’s the time of year, things dying back, tired roots revealed, open feelings exposed.

Autumn is actually my favorite time of year, the colors, the scents, the beauty of nature, but here in the city I don’t experience them much. I think my inner love of nature is longing to be nourished.

Or it may be going solo much of the time lately, probably too much so. I miss interaction with people. My circumstances have changed over the summer and I’m turning into a regular homebody. That’s okay for a while, but then you start talking to things around you, like appliances, or supposedly convenient modes of transportation.

Small things seem to annoy more than usual. Oh well, maybe it’s time to get out the fall decorations I still have and light an apple candle to lift my spirits.

Happy Monday!

September Writing Prompts

https://dailyaddictions542855004.wordpress.com/2018/09/22//daily-addictions-2018-week-37/

A conversation that upsets some

After biology of death, what’s to be done?

A funeral, a memory board

Or do you lean toward

My obvious choice, the glow.

The glow of cremation is my vend

Then there’s no question if my end

Is real, no one has to make the choice

No chemistry decision for the fam

No pulling of plugs for the state I am

All decisions properly made

By me while I’m still sane in my head

It was an easy choice, I fear not

What is, is what is, no mysterious plot

Curious more than frightened I think

Of course right now I’m not on the brink

That’s one reason why these decisions are done

Now, no burden for others just me, just one.

Images by DeviantArt

No, I don’t think I am a Phoenix, I just like the graphics☺️

https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2018/09/24/three-things-challenge-24-sept-2018/

Gender distinguished

For in today’s modern world

He, she sometimes blurred.

RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #220 He&She

The season for Alfred Hitchcock is coming. Get a warm drink, some popcorn for suspense relief, and watch it again: “North by Northwest”. I saw Mount Rushmore when it looked exactly like it is portrayed in this film. Of course–I’m old–but it’s still a winner in my book, and who doesn’t love smooth Cary Grant?

***

https://rugby843.blog

Deep

Eerie

Pit

Refusing to

End

Severely

Suffocatingly

Inhibiting, always

Only

Needful

It seems the vortex of severe depression hungers to pull you further, deep into yourself. You start at the top, trying, keeping yourself above each day, keeping afloat, treading water, wanting to not go deeper. It’s there, always, influencing every thought. Nothing but the black below, sucking you in repeatedly. You flail about, try to reach out for help, speak a word, extend a hand but it is held pinned at your side. The vortex only in your own mind visits often and wins again.

https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2018/09/22/weekend-writing-prompt-73-vortex/

Went to the grocery

Started to shop

Getting dinner ready

Needed some ops

Packaging these days

Meant to stop

Thieves and beggars

Who like to plop

Items in their pockets

Or under a strop

All well and good

The reason for the prop

But when I’m home

And need to pop

Off one of those twisty tops

It’s a real pain in the butt!

🔨⚒🛠🔧🔪⛏🗡⚔️

http://puttingmyfeetinthedirt.com/2018/09/01/september-writing-prompts-2/

She sat there rocking, usually nonchalant

Only one thing she could want

Candy, but alas no way

To chew her favorite every day

This day sugar was on her mind

Wanting something of the sweet kind

Anything but fudge was overrated

But even that, if the nuts were grated

Would appeal to her on this day

She often thought of such a way

To indulge since her teeth went astray

Memories of corn on the cob

Now it’s just too much of a job

Del Monte cans used instead

Old age truly something to dread.

https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2018/09/23/three-things-challenge-23-sept-2018/

Would you please illuminate

Just the facts, don’t exaggerate

Exactly what did you see

You need to cooperate with me.

Were they young, have any tattoos?

Hey listen, I’m speaking to you

Were they tall or fat or short

Talk. I need it for our report

Were they small or rather large

Did you see the getaway car?

I need you to tell us what you saw

We are members of the law

These scoundrels need to be arrested

And your taxes are invested

In the apprehension of such foe

So tell. Exactly what do you know?

×××÷÷÷

https://rugby843.blog

The foggy morning day has its rewards. Cooler, fresh mist sprinkling in your face, enlivening your spirit. As I walk near the harbored boats, I can hear the sounds of silver lights emanating from the distance. Small tugboats scurry along looking for their next job, while huge cruise ships are docking.

The fishermen are almost gone, having left early to retrieve their “catch of the day” for the many tourist laden restaurants up and down the boardwalk. The weather is fast getting cooler and their business will rest for the winter. Every effort is being made to squeeze out the last revenue from the summer visitors.

Sidewalk markets are setting up their harvested goods, hoping for another day in the waning season. The hardier vegetables and fruits still remained but sweet peaches and cherries were done.

All things in life have their time of splendor and flourish, then fade to rest.

**

September Writing Prompts