This is for Linda G. Hill’s coloring club for this month. I colored it today.
There once was a cat on a cloud
Who loved to take in night’s dark shroud,
Because all the stars
And planets like Mars
Finally to shine were allowed.
I made up the limerick off the top of my head because why not. I know planets don’t shine, but in my colorful dream-world they do. 🙂
This is a décima for Ronovan’s challenge this week, and I also included the prompt words for his haiku challenge, Ebb and Flow. Also linked to FOWC: Paradox.
For MLMM’s Tale Weaver, the theme is “Over the Top.” I used “above” as a synonym. I am also sharing with DVerse OLN.
Above cloud-cover
Soar, attaining sunlit heights
Not like Icarus —
Simply feeling caresses
From daytime, on upturned face
For DVerse Poetics, we are writing about folly, and for Tourmaline’s Halloween challenge, I included the word “trick.” I hope it’s acceptable that my subject matter has nothing to do with anything creepy. I was also inspired by FFFC #89, the picture below. Picture by Renate Vanaga at Unsplash.
Is it a trick of the light?
No, those two are smiling,
Laughing, hands clasped
Relaxing face to face, not
Mindful of the slightest folly.
This seems like a dream:
No unhappiness are they seeing,
Leaving at home their masks,
Relaxing with no trace of
Fear, not even of honesty.
Do clouds float above,
Gazing down imagining
Pictures in the Earth?
This haiku is written for Heeding Haiku with Chèvrefeuille, for which this week’s theme is “daydreaming.”
I took this photo a few months ago while staring out my window.
For DVerse Poetics, Sarah is challenging us to use “Three Little Words,” inspired by the site what3words.com. She gave us a list of 3-word combos, but I went to the web site and explored. I found the combination wounds.relay.caring, This is the poem that happened after that. It is also a décima for Ronovan’s prompt, Swing. And it got depressing again.
Up and down, strong emotions swing,
Each day a leg in a relay
Race that lasts too long, life delayed.
How many people are caring?
I understand, but the sharp sting
Of loss has not diminished: What
Is the cost of all of the cuts,
Wounds that must be made? Is it worth
The gain? Or is there a worse dearth?
It seems the door to dreams is shut.
This is for FOWC: Scream. I am also sharing with the Writers’ Pantry. Special thanks to Mr. Bump for reminding me about how terrifying this painting is and how it gave 10-year-old Jenna at least one nightmare. I wrote a free-verse, almost stream-of-consciousness, so…here you go.
Consider “The Scream,”
that disturbing painting,
so unsettling
it gave this child nightmares.
Consider how Mr. Munch
may have painted it today,
if he were living —
horror of art “nouveau normal”
The orange sky is surprisingly
accurate, as is the conspicuous
absence of most
others — uncertainty and anxiety
Are certainly closer
companions — but he’s not wearing
a mask!
this dehumanized creature needs
A face covering,
so no one sees his scream,
though we hear it
screeching, reaching from 1893.
The prompt for DVerse MTB was truly fascinating this week: lists from Google searches. I hope you like this bizarre compilation. It was fun, even if the result doesn’t make much sense. Tell me in the comments what you think it means!
Identity is shaped by
Shaped by fire:
Fire is alive
Fire is a living thing,
Fire is a living — nightmare,
Nightmares every night —
Nightmares are dreams, too.
This is my (late) offering for the Sunday Muse, which I often attempt to write for but which I’ve only posted for once or twice. This week’s image is below:
Monarch butterflies symbolize rebirth:
Kings seeking asylum from
The insanity of Earth,
Refugees to the Moon.
I pray, and kneel, arms
Strong in God’s holy refuge:
Maybe Luna can welcome me too,
I’d be the butterflies’ subject.
At DVerse, we are being blanketed with quadrilles today. 🙂
She is a morning person,
Yet she finds occasions often
To sleep in, wanting to snuggle:
Waking up can be a struggle,
When the blanket is warm, inviting
And her dreams seem to be writing
A better story than reality —
Sometimes she’s too sleepy.
Sometimes there is a fierce rivalry between the desire to not waste the best part of the day, and the desire to just ignore the day.
