Monday's Child #18

Monday's Child #18

If you insist I stay inside, I must confess, 

I'll make a mess you can't abide.

So if this bothers you then let me go, 

let me go outside!

What if - Writer's Island Prompt # 24

Writer's Island Prompt # 24 - Envision

What if - 
What if, when the skies are grey and the clouds are grey and your thoughts are grey 
And you sound like Eeyore, only not fit for children
What if -
What if you could peel back the layers and lift the fog and shine a light into the darkness
And you could see the bright possibilities
What if -
What if beneath all the gloom and the dreariness and the sordid angst
You found a colorful life of promise
What if -
What if you could see beyond the past and into the future and clearly the now
And you could envision a future of hope
What if -
What if you took steps forward and made intentions and followed through
And what you envisioned became real

Mondays Child #16 - A writing Prompt

There were two witches and a wizard made three
And a potion they did make for you and me
With little bits of this and vials full of that
A few worm castings, kitty sheddings and snail slime
Bat squeeks, spider sneaks, and rat's cheese sublime
In a boiling bubbling cauldron upon a firey flame
With giggles and snickles and snookles they did brew
A halloween night full of fun and fright
For everyone, everywhere, they did stew
Mandrake screams and ghostly dreams
Doors that go slam and steaming socks full of toe jam
With salamander spit and toadstools grown in...
Well, never mind that
With a final sprinkle of powdery book dust
And a young frogs ribbet they did thrust
Into the swirling, twirling cauldron of goo
Their wishes of a spooky fun night for me and you.



Inspired by Monday's Child at http://childrensverse.blogspot.com/.

Magpie #35

Magpie Tales #35 - A Writer's Prompt

Autumn's offerings
captured -
beauty revealed
through the
death of chloroplasts.

Writing Prompt: Soar

A writing prompt from Writer's Island.

Words
Work through my
Mind.

Sparked
From weavings of an
Image.

Dark
Thoughts of what is the
Point.

Feeling
It needs to serve some apparent
Purpose.

Why
Bother with the
Writing.

Translates
To my whole
Life.

Influence
That leads me spiraling
Down.

Into
A deep pit of
Anguish.

And
That is the opposite of
Soaring.

Need
To shake this
Weight.

Like
Water from an osprey's
Wings.

After
Plunging into the icy
Depths.

Mid-flight
Droplets go flying in all
Directions.

Lighter
Now to fly stronger and
Higher.

How
Do I rid myself of this
Burden.

So
I too can
Soar.

A Walk with Otters

A half moon cove of
sand and pebbles,
driftwood,
and weeds of the sea.

From water like glass emerge
heads and whiskers,
wet,
curious critters following me.

The Cormorant

The smooth surface of the water
broke
shattering the reflection of the
sky
in it's place floated a
bird
black and sleek throat thrown back to
swallow
the slippery silver fish.

Then down again it
dove
and once more the water gradually
became
a mirror for the great blue
sky.