Moments of love and parting …. by LadyleeManila
I said hello you said hello
Then we both know
There’s love within
My yang to yin
Enjoy every minute with you
With coffee brew
Day goes so fast
We have a blast
Longest minute when you said bye
You left I cry
My heart shutters
Everything blurs*
(c) ladyleemanila 2019
* Minute Poetry
Perspectives change in a minute …… by Michael
It wasn’t until after the incident, which was all of one minute, that I realised how significant it was, and could have been.
It was a day like any other, I had finished work and there was a parent/teacher afternoon on, but before that, I went to collect the ironing from our ironing lady. My wife and I both worked, and we had six growing children, and there wasn’t a lot of time to indulge in such things as ironing.
What was to be a short trip turned into an event, which woke me up to my own mortality.
I stopped at the corner to turn left when I noticed a car coming towards me at high speed. Normally the distance the car was away was enough for me to turn and carry on my way. Whether it was instinct or my guardian angel, I don’t know, but something told…
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One minute wonder -- a poem by Deepa (syncwithdeep)
I kept this hidden for four decades. But it appears that the end is nearing. I lost the battle for peace. The denizens of this country were a mentally and emotionally battered lot, after the last war. They lost everything, and had to rebuild life from scratch. It needed a lot of planning, moral support … Continue reading Curse of War
I want to …. create a culinary masterpiece for dinner every day ….sail away on that dream cruise with a dream companion …. create that dream space called home …..let the light of my soul shine in the world Before that, I need to create the perfect vessels to make those dreams come true. … Continue reading Outlines
There is something scary about rebuilding – the fact that a previous edifice or structure has been destroyed. It means loss of labor, wealth, investments, resources and assumptions. What causes pain is our erroneous assumption about its indestructibility. I see the change about assumptions in business. Accounting principles in the past were built on the … Continue reading Rebuilding
Haiku by Von Smith
Your love planted me
Branches reaching out for you
Knowing you will leave
A topic close to my heart – one day, rage will have its say – by VJ Knutson
What ideology is this –
the feminine clothed in conservatism,
carting creatures whose nature is wild –
are we to believe women, too, are tractable,
or that girls should aspire to control
their beastly selves, become pets
for mass consumerism?
Glances say it all –
the inability to face the authors
of this myth – subdued by shame,
powerlessness, or conditioned politeness –
do not be fooled; there is more to this story –
it may be invisible, we may all pretend
it does not exist, or downplay its significance –
but one day, rage will have its say.
(Written for the dVerse pub, hosted tonight by Merril, with the theme: invisible. My poem is a reaction to the featured image, offered up as a prompt by Willow Poetry for her weekly challenge: What Do You See?)
The pain of those who can’t speak …. a touching story by athling2001
I found this illustration rather quaint and curious. It is an illustration done for Grimm’s Fairy Tales. I don’t know the story, but why is the tree male and the human female? Is the mobility or immobility an illusion? Is it a scene of love, magic or revenge? What do the projections denote?
I invite you to ponder over it, and write whatever it generates within you.
On with the quill, and the thinking cap ….
She heard him coming, but didn’t slow, running swiftly down the forest pathway, slippered feet barely making a sound. She wasn’t afraid of the forest, but she was afraid of him. How grotesque he looked, gnarled with branches sprouting from his back. His face so smooth and young, but his limbs like branches grown wrong way round.
In the depths of the forest, she heard the cries of the animals…
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The Weeping Willow by Len…..
Taking up Reena’s Exploration Challenge#72
by Reena Saxena. Thanks for the mind prompt Reena and for introducing me to Arthur Rackham illustrations.
The Weeping Willow stood twenty feet south of the meandering stream that ran through the middle of Lord Covington’s estate. On a sunny day, in late Spring, the trees awareness was drawn to a squirrel scrambling along its branches and so he failed to notice the arrival of the young girl. She stood in front of the tree, admiring his shape and luxurious foliage, ” My, you are a handsome fellow” she exclaimed. She started climbing, nesting comfortably in his branches, about eight feet from the ground, sighing contentedly she dreamed her dreams.
She would visit the tree everyday and they quickly became old friends. Some days she would dance around the tree, on others she climbed as high as she dared, but mostly she was content…
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Creative Experiments and More 