The Bag Lady

Small and cute

Huddled together

Nature’s tiny miracles

Gathered for security and warmth

Circle of gray furry baby swans

https://ramblingsofawriter2016.com/category/weeklytankachallenge/

He didn’t want to move, everything he loved viewed in front of him, seeing the forests where he explored endlessly as a child. The change was necessary, turning his world upside down. To ease the pain of leaving, he decided to visit nirvana once more.

He entered the path, as he always did, so familiar he could keep his eyes above to the trees. He breathed in their woody scents, it was always refreshing and a time of renewal experience. With a tearful eye, he held up his arms in thankful praise. “I will miss you so”, he murmured.

April 19: Flash Fiction Challenge

Weekly Writing Challenge #137

Love both of these guys:

https://rugby843.blog

Spurred on by Cyranny over at the cove, I’m giving my actual name. The Bag Lady is a little rough I guess, but it is who I have been for three years, through no fault of my own, I add. It was hoped to be a funny reference to being bladder free and fitted with a (lovely) bag on my abdomen to replace it. Now I’ve written all about this in my early blogs, Accepting Change is the only one still here. My very first blog was, “Oh, that kind of bag” which I also hoped would suggest humor, but it has disappeared.

So here I am, three years into being a bag lady and of course it’s not exactly fun, but it has its moments. The rugby843 idea was a mistake, as was finding WP. But no matter, I answer to most anything. Lately it’s “old lady” – my kids inherited humor from us – or grammie. I prefer the latter.

I love the blog, write anything that comes to mind, and adore you guys out there! I’ve learned a lot, met a lot of great people, seen fantastic art and photographs, read beautiful poetry and all types of stories. THANK YOU!

Feel free to contact me anytime, I love comments.

Cheryl, aka: the bag lady @https://rugby843.blog

Items of import

Requirement of toddlers

For fun in the sun

***

Plastic crab molding

Innocent sandy mollusks

No pinching allowed

RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #197 Fun&Sun

Such a lovely shade of blue, she thought. Surely these hidden beauties will hatch safely and strong. She climbed back down the ladder to the garden. Marie was the privileged daughter of a country estate owner, surrounded by almost every beautiful aspect of nature. She kept the nest hidden and guarded it with discarded branches around the base of the tree. She hoped this would discourage predators from below. After each visit, brushing aside the leaves of branches hiding the nest, she was careful to replace them and never touched the eggs or nest directly. She hoped the nest was hidden well enough from the hawks.

The blue eggs in the nest would soon be hatched and then it would be a new challenge to keep the fledglings safe as they learned to fly.

Ten year old Marie took her job as protector very seriously.

https://flashfictionforthepracticalpractitioner.wordpress.com/2018/04/18/flash-fiction-for-the-purposeful-practitioner-2018-week-16/

Quincy

Queried

Quizzically

how to

Quell

Quacking

Quails

Qualifying

their

Quaking

Quit

Quickly

might cause

Quaffing

or

Quavering

in the

Quahog

Quartet.

Quincy

Qualified

Questions

with

Quadruple

Quaint

Qualms.

He was a Quality guy in the Queue.

http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com/

It was the warm evening of spring, 1962. My mom had made a diaphanous strapless dress of blue satin with an overlay of white nylon eyelet. She also fashioned a satin wrap for my shoulders. I was so proud to wear it to my first school dance, the Sophomore Hop.

I had hoped to be asked by one certain boy, but was asked by a “friend” first. So we had a nice dinner at his home with other couples and danced all night.

Coming home that evening I had no thoughts about the farewell on the porch steps.

He stepped up above me, being a bit short, and suddenly bent down and kissed me, on the mouth. I was taken aback slightly, thinking of him as a friend, but felt the urge to return the kiss. Arms placed around each other, I remember my wrap falling to the ground. It was everything I had imagined as a first real kiss…ahhhh♡.

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/tale-weaver/first-kiss/

Field compilation

White fleecy cotton

Natural decoration

〰〰

The child ran through the furrows, ignoring the snags of the briar vines. Cotton fields were her playground while her mother worked. Mary’s mother picked cotton; it was a necessity to live safely in the plantation’s row of cottages. Her father did the same, and for two generations, this was their life. The thorny bushes yielded fluffy bits of white that had to be gleaned, cleaned, and bagged for the owner of the plantation. It was then weighed and had to meet a certain quota for the day. It was hot, sweaty, back breaking work with the only reward being a small one room cabin with only a stove and a bed. This was the life lived by many of the poor and enslaved in the days before machines took over.

For a true version of picking cotton you might like this:

http://www.genealogy.com/forum/general/topics/memorylane/230/

〰〰

https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2018/04/16/fffaw-challenge-163rd/

Colleen’s Weekly #Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 80, GATHER & SOFT, #SynonymsOnly

Discover the fine

Poet named Chevrefeuille

Send a birthday wish

🌿

Not a true Haiku

Is it not the thought that counts

Good wishes to you

🌿

Haiku poetry

An enigma for many

Short and simple verse

🌿

🌱Happy Birthday!🌱

🌿

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/04/18/heeding-haiku-with-chevrefeuille-april-18th-2018-birthday-party/