I’ve had my times of grief and sadness I’ve had my days of joy and gladness days when bruises covered my face nights on my knees praying for grace But yesterday’s sorrows are over no more looking back over my shoulder these days my time is more likely spent weeding the garden or painting a fence I’ve found my sanctuary, love and home never again to face cold nights alone joy suffuses the smile on my face I’m here with you in our happy place
Time for another reach into the dark recesses of my creative mind. When I looked at the picture prompt, all I saw was Gaia weeping, dark clouds of tears. OK could, possibly been influenced by listening to Blackmore’s Night lately.
On a craggy old clifftop there once grew an elegant tree her branches were strong but it wasn’t too long ‘ere they named her “The Olde Hanging Tree”
Time and again, they strung up a man on branches barren of leaves stumps twisted and dark it soon broke her heart innocent souls lost on The Olde Hanging Tree
One day they brought a young woman practicing witchcraft she had been seen despite her innocent cries they condemned her to die by a rope hung from The Olde Hangin’ Tree
They left her choking and dying there came a terrible sound the wind gave a scream there on the ground lay the last branch of The Olde Hangin’ Tree
Now the tree blooms brightly in springtime, as the girl dances Tree and wind sing their song branches covered with leaves and she named her “Grandmother Tree”
On the edge of October in the season of the witch when breezes stir the leaves my nose begins to twitch the smell of Autumn in the air redolent with spice and memory and scrumptious colors everywhere when with heart, not eyes, we see in the space between here and there that’s where you’ll always find me
Elapsed time: 12 minutes (to posting)
word count: 57
This bit of Autumn poetry inspired by Linda’s Stream of Consciousness SaturdayYour Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “me.” Find a word that starts with “me” or use the word “me” as the theme of your post. Have fun!
Oh mistletoe, mistletoe hanging on the tree or hanging in the archway where lovers steal a kiss, or three but as a token of affection there’s really not much connection mistletoe for lovers seems a ghastly oversight kissing in the doorway beneath a hemiparasite eeeewwwww
For Linda’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday: Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “home.” Use it as a noun, a verb, an adjective, or an adverb. Enjoy!
Worked on the deck, sanding, painting, you know WORK! Too out of spoons to give a fork, but “home” in some way will always remind me of the 13 years we spent in our house on wheels, the SS Minnie Winnie. Yep, that’s 13 years, full time two people in 200 square feet of living space. Let the good times roll.
“Home is wherever we park it.” ~Me and Superhubs whenever someone asked “where’s home?” 😉
Ring, ring what’s that I hear? a cell phone held up to my ear? or is it songs the birdies sing? is it katydid’s buzzing wings? the grating of lawnmowers buzz? a cat screeching just because? or squeaking brakes on the local bus? oh wait, it’s just my dratted tinnitus, mystery solved.
elapsed time 12 minutes (I got distracted)
Til next time ~ Listen to the sounds of silence ~JP
When I am old I shall wear cotton skirts with combat boots which I shall carry as I muddy my hem walking barefoot in the forest I shall sit at the edge of the pond and dip my toes in the icy water I shall drink a cheap wine coolers from icy bottles on a summer day and I shall write my most secret wish upon a leaf, stuff it in the bottle and launch my wishes into the pond I’ll watch as it bobs away headed for it’s destination of nowhere but for now, I think I shall take off my sensible shoes and walk barefoot in my own grass, and write my wish on a leaf and blow it into the wind and practice a little for that time when I am old
word count 136
This post inspired by Crimsons Creative Challenge #200
Til next time ~don’t take life too seriously, you’re not gonna get out of it alive ~JP