I believe karma, the bitch, has taught me a lesson. Karma was watching me on that mild summer day, a decade ago. I sat at my window facing the street, savoring my customary morning brew. I imagine my favorite smells— inhaling deeply the robust richness of coffee, coupled with the balm of fresh-cut grass, courtesy … Continue reading Wasp-Nest Karma
Claude Monet In a tranquil hamlet, a delicate kiss of warmth expressed by the solar sylph, mellowed by a temperate breeze, offers the palliative whisper of hyacinth and sweet lilies. Tiny buds of a thornless rose bush hold the promise that, with their bloom, will come an elucidation of the world’s mysteries. Claude Monet would … Continue reading Tranquility Interrupted
I see talons In the winter Looking up In the spring I see buds of hope Summer is Verdant splendor Comforting shade Autumn a blaze Put out by A single heavy rain Then Old oak tree Lording over my house I curse you consistently With every bag Of purged leaves __________________________ July 8, 2016 Weekly … Continue reading Looking Up
http://youtu.be/cSqH-Jh4amQ The prompt said: "Write about darkness today." But...I only have lightness to convey Then the sun rose and set I concede with regrets On this dark post-less midsummer day _______________________________ July 7, 2016, One Word Daily Prompt: Darkness~ <a href="https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/darkness/">Darkness</a>
This, your discontented summer Post bunionectomy Confined to sofa slothing As you read philosophy The foot cast you wear— a ball Cursed crutches are your chain Condemned imprisoned Tally marking days you've been restrained ________________________________ June 19, 2016, One Word Daily Prompt: Aimless~ <a href="https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/aimless/">Aimless</a>
http://youtu.be/VyK1bZZ7E-s You must go back with me to the summer of my fourteenth year, the summer before I was to start high school, and the year I lost all hope of ever escaping my unhappy existence. This memory is one of quintessential teen angst. On the verge of adulthood, but not quite there, I was … Continue reading Faraway…
A lot from Lydia 