Photo: Inbar Asif
A smile,
A wave
A blast of horn,
Afternoon outing
For the honking
Brave.
For The Daily Post
Honk-a-ton
Month: November 2017
Dubious Maximus
Photo: Tzur Gedalya Moriah
One cannot argue doubting
He who violated trust before.
Suspicion is a justified insurance
So he cannot to do this anymore.
Smoke and mirrors will not mask
Acts the decent do deplore.
Deflecting will melt in the light of day
As Truth now won’t ignore.
For The Daily Post
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A Cookie Riff
Photo: Atara Katz
He shook his head
At jam and bread
Objected to any other
Kind of spread
And lectured mommy
From his seat
That cookie’s the only
Thing to eat.
For The Daily Post
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Even In The Blackest!
Photo: Atara Katz
Even in the blackest night
There’s hope
In sight,
There’s light.
As addendum to this prompt I want to add news of amazing breakthrough research that is offering tangible hope to people with spinal cord injuries, who till now may have had little light at the end of their dark tunnels. Who knows — soon they may be able to get up again and walk!
Scientists use stem-cells to make paralyzed rats walk again!
(I’m doubly excited for this remarkable news because the co-leader scientist in this research, Professor Shulamit Levenberg, is my sister!)
For The Daily Post
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Temporarily Forever
Photo: Amitai Asif
The tender bloom stays but few days
Yet made of atoms forged
In times
Before eons,
And will remain
As it transforms
To almond, seed, tree, earth, person:
All life’s
Ions.
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New To Me
Photo: Na’ama Yehuda
As every day rolls in
So clearly new to me
I realize the ever changing
Neophyte I am to life
And still will be.
For The Daily Post
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Strut What?
Photo: Dvora Freedman
Give a hand
Put a stop.
Help the weak
To step up.
See beyond
Outward bluff.
For in the race
To strut stuff,
Truth is often
Enough.
For The Daily Post
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Dance Gingerly
Photo: Inbar Asif
Dance gingerly into the hearts
Of others.
They are the home
Of someone’s soul.
Dance delicately
In the space
That is between
Yourself
And others.
Dance gently ever more
Inside your own.
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Breathing Space
tltweek93
She faced the sea’s relentless roil, the churning, fuming foam.
She found a quiet in the space
Between the breath of waves, a home.
For Three Line Tales
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The Paths of Time
Photo: Ofir Asif
In passing we will know
The paths of time
The way to grow:
The to and fro
The high
The low
The good
The woe
The ebb
The flow.
Na'ama Yehuda 
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