The Bag Lady

The wind is constant and cold

Honeysuckle vines are torn

Brushing the blooms, so bold

The wind is constant and cold

Fading blossoms now fold

Summer’s flowers, forlorn

The wind is constant and cold

Honeysuckle vines are torn.

–

When cool autumn breezes arrive

Wind and temperatures cold

Bright summer buds don’t survive

When cool autumn breezes arrive

Flowering vines heat deprived

Yellowed leaves cannot hold

When cool autumn breezes arrive

Wind and temperatures cold.

–

Chilled gusts change autumn trees

Only evergreen needles remain

Maples are losing their leaves

Chilled gusts change autumn trees

Leaves fade, curl up in a freeze

Drop, and be sustenance on the plain

Chilled gusts change autumn trees

Only evergreen needles remain.

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MTB: Counting to Three

This week’s Story Starter teaser is:

Suzanne was flipping through her mother’s family photo albums when she saw that all of the snapshots were of a past she didn’t know anything about. She decided to confront her mother with a question about it. Suzanne’s mother grabbed the album and asked where did she get it? “It was in an old box in the attic. I was looking for my old school uniform for Sandy to wear for Halloween.”

“You shouldn’t be looking in the attic for anything. All of your things are in the basement.”

Suzanne was shocked at her mother’s response and decided to ask her father when he arrived, just what was going on. Suzanne and her daughter Sandy were just visiting for the weekend and she was not going to look around in the attic anymore. Not wanting to start anything serious, she took Sandy to the basement and did find the uniform. It was getting late and being a Sunday, Suzanne felt it was best to just go home. Later that week, she called her father and he explained. Apparently the album was a secret for the children she knew as siblings, including herself. Her mother had been previously married and didn’t want her present family to know.

Suzanne decided to leave the entire thing alone since it greatly upset her mother.

***

Fandango’s Story Starter #169

Veritas became distressed

Her cloud below seemed obsessed

With complicated rhetoric

It rained down lies so thick

Into the political field

Providing lies unrevealed

Debate with truth never seen

What of this farce can we glean?

***

4 October 2024

I really don’t think I’m haunted

A ghost certainly not wanted

Yes I’ve had lonely times

I hear the hands of a clock chime

My couch is empty, so is my bed

But evenings I no longer dread

It’s cloudy days and grayish morns

When harvest time the field adorns

It’s hard to rise without the sun

Something I count on when sleep is done

But a ghost? I think not for me

Unless it’s my love coming to me

And then how would I survive

When he returns and I’m still alive

A conundrum for the wise souls

Who know how fate is doled.

***

Poetics: Haunted Harvest

Writing Prompts

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Simply 6 Minutes – Welcome to the Challenge:10/01/2024

I feel I have to be honest, admit a craving or two

It could be only me, but maybe you too

It’s chocolate, it used to be a constant appetite

Now I’m satisfied with a small bite!

I think as I age

Savory is my plague

And eating salt for me is not right😢

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https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/87817150/posts/5402173365

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Moonwashed Weekly Prompt – Unexplored

Pine Trees

-Chilled air seeping in

Windows only partly closed

Fresh, autumn, pine scents

Colder breezes send to me

Seasonal welcomed fragrance

-“to me a lush carpet of pine needles or spongy grass is more welcome than the most luxurious Persian carpet”. Helen Keller.

-Pine forests needed

Hardy character native

Needles, winter fare

Lovely pine trees offer scents

Citrusy, calming, cleansing.

***

#TankaTuesday Poetry Challenge: Tanka Puenta, best and worst moments 10/01/2024 #syllabicpoetry

My handwriting was exceptional but after getting a computer, back in the dark ages, I rarely wrote using it. Letters to relatives and friends became less and less frequent, and typing was faster and easier, but the finished product was very neat, but not “personal”. Reading a handwritten letter is more meaningful. A note here: my grandson J who was born without arms, has the best cursive in the family! So, yes, I think it is a valuable tool. I think if more people actually took a pencil or pen to write a note or letter to their loved ones or friends, the world would be a better place. Too simple, you say? I can write here or email or text, blast someone, anonymously—possibly, but looking that person in the eye or sitting down to compose a letter, I might think twice. Shooting off a text is too fast and too easy and real communication is lost. Cursive writing is an art, taking the time to make letters as perfect as possible, so you have to think when you write. Isn’t that worth the extra time? And then there is calligraphy, another art form of communication.

Truthful Tuesday: October 1st, 2024