Days of Love

A spark in the darkness
The flash of a dream
A bulb that burns blue
Then blackness of bleeding void

But when dawn is deepest
The sky’s bruised blanket
A promise of primrose
Sunrise seems secretly suspended

A young day begins for us
The light creeps cautiously through the cracks
A hint of a gleam of a question
How have our scars brought us here?

Slowly our lenses lift to the rays
The courage contained
Makes a break for the beam
Balances precariously between beats

Basking brilliantly in our newfound sun
In ovation our souls stand
For hope has found daylight
Joyous joining of our noon

We gaze graciously at countenance kept
In facades we find flawlessly fresh
We dive to depths of painful pleasure
Holding helplessly to mindless madness

Looking ever into eternity’s bliss
Shining suns and stars and simple sights
But our eyes eventually falter, consciously creating
Imagination, blinds, binds, breaks

Why did we do it once again?
Had our memories faded so fully?
That we dared to bare our lives to love
When setting suns and deathly darknesses, continually come.

LGH ~ March 23, 2005

open ~ muse

i close my eyes
above me you hover
breath upon my face
soft and fragrant
not a mere mortal;
you are the muse
my music
my art
the filter through which
my compassion comes
and love
ah love
and all i need do
is open my soul
and write you

The Daily Post – Open

Coming Out – 100-word Story

The doctor said it’s natural. It was a difficult appointment, but I feel slightly better now. I suppose I’ll have to tell my family. I wonder how that will go…

Mom, Dad, are you sitting down? I have this thing growing inside me. The doctor said it will come out by itself… No, it’s not a tapeworm.

Mom? Dad? Have you ever seen the movie, Alien?

Wait? Why are you backing away from me? No! Don’t run! You’ll make it come out n– Ahhhh!!!

Yeah. Probably best to just tell them I’m pregnant and get it over and done with.

This is part of The Daily Post prompt – the word of the day is Natural.

#tuesdayuseitinasentence – Served

It was an ordinary morning. I got up, made my tea, prepared my honey on toast, and sat down with the newspaper to enjoy them. Breakfast is the meal that most reminds me of my wife, God rest her soul in Heaven. I haven’t a job to go to, since I retired two years ago, so my mornings are quiet.

Until a jarring knock on the door disturbed my routine. I opened it to find a middle-aged man in a grey suit standing outside with his hands behind his back.

“Mr. Davidson?” he asked without any attempt at salutation.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Mr. David Davidson?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

He produced from behind his back an envelope with my name on it and nothing else.

“You’ve been served,” he said, and without waiting for a response he turned and left.

I sit here now, with my tea growing cold, the day’s news forgotten along with my toast as I read for the third time the contents of the envelope. I am to be a witness for the prosecution of the young man who lost control of his car and ran down my dear wife as she stepped out to the curb to pick up the newspaper one snowy morning, a year ago today.

It seems I must adjust my morning routine once again.

This post is part of Tuesday Use It In A Sentence, brought to us by the lovely MLW. Click this link to find the prompt, and join in!

Out

I’m out
I’m gone
I’ve vanished as if
I never existed.
Will it seem
in a month
in a year
the same to me?
When it’s time
you move on,
when the axe drops
and the head is chopped
from the neck that
does not bleed…
I guess it means
it had to be done.
So here I sit
isolation
insulation
with my lessons
and millions of words
strewn around
scattered
to the cold
night
air
I
am
gone

March 23, 2005
LGH

It’s a Bargain! – a 50-word story

I found the teapot I’ve been looking for for years! The spout is cracked, the flowers are faded, and the leaves are not quite the same shape as I remember. But I’m sure it’s the right one! I’ll put it in a place of honour, with the other two-thousand teapots.

#SoCS – Amber and Ash

I sit at the traffic light and watch the amber bulb blink on and off. My car is almost out of gas and I wonder how much longer the electricity will stay running. But does it matter? The slain lay behind me, their brains eaten. Now that I’ve finished off the last of the zombies, I have nothing left to eat. Nothing but ash. And zombie brains.

socs-badge-2015

This post is part of Stream of Consciousness Saturday. Click the following link and join in! https://lindaghill.com/2016/06/10/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-june-1116/

Stop

“Stop” has become
a swear word to you.
And “let’s go,”
makes me cringe.

I should never have started
teaching you to drive.

The Chronicles of Mary, Part 4

Tired of taking public transportation, Mary bought an old used car. One day on her way back to the parking lot at the end of the busy workday, she was surprised to see a man and a woman trying to unlock her car with a coathanger.

“Can I help you?” Mary asked the woman, who was standing back watching.

The woman eyed the man shiftily and said, “We can’t get in.”

“Here, let me try.” Mary took the coathanger from the man, thinking this might be a chance to have a little fun. She fiddled with the coathanger, moving it this way and that, but she couldn’t quite reach the knob inside to open the door. “Nope,” she said after a while. “I can’t get it.

“Oh wait,” Mary went on. “I think I have a key.”

Mary pulled out her car key and opened the door. The man and the woman ran away. Mary laughed all the way home.

Jus’ another day at the farm

It all started when Billy took it on hisself to drive the tractor. I told him again and again, stay off the damn tractor. But would he listen? A’course not.

I was doin’ my work, ya know, muckin’ out stalls when I heard the darn thing drive away. Now you might say I shouldn’a left it runnin’. An’ I prolly shouldn’a left it sittin’ with all them boxes stacked up beside it. He wouldn’a bin able to get up there if I hadn’a done that. But he was determined.

An’ what’s the first thing he did once the machine started rollin’? ‘At’s right. Straight for Bessie. He’s had it in for that cow since he first got here.

So now I got m’self a dilemma. Do I shoot Billy? Or do I jus’ leave him be an’ hope he doesn’ get ahold of the tractor again? ‘Coz there’s still Rosemarie to worry about. An’ she’s my best milker.

Nope, I think I’ll jus’ take Billy out to the back forty and put an end to him. Too bad though. I was gettin’ kinda fond’a that goat.