Nightmare

This week’s décima challenge from Ronovan Writes is to use the word CHASE in one of the C rhyme spots.


A nightmare blooms inside my head
When I lie down to sleep tonight:
Subconscious seems prepared to fight
As into its strange realm I tread.

As body sleeps snug in my bed,
I’m trying to pick up my pace
To outrun what attempts to chase
Me, but as expected I’m caught.
Can I unlearn what has been taught,
To find a new dream to embrace?

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Hopes Gleam / New Dreams

This is for Ronovan Writes’s décima challenge this week (shockingly 🙂 ). I started it 2 days ago but only finished it 2 minutes ago.


Ten years ago expansive dreams
Existed for my future plans,
And I believed that my two hands
Could grab them. How wrong that now seems.

In childhood I saw hopes gleam
And thought them gold. But what a shock
When they were pyrite: foolish rock.
Somewhere there still might be a stone
To find, a gem, not one alone —
Maybe next time I take a walk.

Ronovan Writes Decima Challenge Image

Waking Happily

Today I found a new challenge for the month of February: Paula Light had the great idea to observe the “month of lurve” by posting about one thing we love every day.

It is not my birthday; I’m just trying to make today fun! Happy birthday if it is your birthday. 🙂

Here is a poem I wrote this morning that relates to this photo, as I have a propensity to write about almost everything:

“Arise and shine, ” the alarm blares,
And I return to my warm bed,
To fall back in dreams, without cares.

“Arise and shine,” coaxes the sun,
Stepping slowly into my room:
“Do not miss goodness; it’s begun.”

“Arise and shine,” cries the coffee,
As I carry it in a cup:
A taste of day, quietly friendly. 

I Have Lived in Many Half-Worlds Myself

Upon reading “Flying Fish” by Carl Sandburg for the first time, I wrote this response. Sharing with DVerse Poets’ prompt, “A Conversation.”


I have lived in many half-worlds myself:
Something simultaneously hopeful and harrowing,
Days which are both depressive and lifted,
Days when despair drowns in floating faith

I have dreams in which I breathe
Under the seawater or up in the sky:
A wing thing. A fish thing.
Sometimes I have lived in that in-between —
And so I know you.


image from Pinterest

Eggy Inspiration

Linda gave us quite an interesting (dare I say…eggciting   sorry not sorry) prompt for this week’s paint-chip poetry:

Fried eggs over-easy:
Yolks like a puddle
Color of sun rays
Or even a tangerine —
Dream of this breakfast
Outside, under vintage-
Turquoise skies…

No, this type I despise!

Author’s note: I don’t like it when the yolks are really runny. Also, I just realized that this is the second time I have written about eggs for this paint-chip poetry prompt. That’s odd.