Bereft Of Hope

adult art conceptual dark

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

 

If you feel bereft of hope

In view of those who lead

Not by honor

But deceit;

Hold on to the voice of people

Rising

To relieve

Those who cherish false and greed

From the path of harm

They have conceived.

Be strong

Even as you are now

Understandably

Bereaved.

For there will be better days

Ahead

Where heart

Over current swamp,

Succeeds.

 

 

Merriam-Webster’s word for August 5, 2018:

Bereft

This post continues the blogging challenge in which Merriam-Webster’s Word of the Day, serves as inspiration a-la the “Daily Prompt.”

Want to join me? Feel free to link to this post on your blog, and/or post a link to your blogpost in the comment section below so others can enjoy it, too. Poetry, photography, short stories, anecdotes: Go for it!

For more visibility, tag your post with #WordOfDayNY, so your post can be searchable.

“Follow” me if you want to receive future prompts, or just pop in when you’re looking for inspiration. Here’s to the fun of writing and our ever-evolving blogging community!

Rawson Rise

Rawson Lake Photo by Jack Ng

Rawson Lake; photo: Jack Ng

 

It was their last day by the lake. The weather was perfect and the air was so crisp it squeaked. She inhaled deeply, savoring every moment. By that time tomorrow she’d be stuck in rush-hour traffic.

“See?” he pointed. “Even wood can’t keep its head above water at some point.”

She snuck a hand into his and squeezed. She wished she could give him sips of this place during what was to come. She wished she could tell him this round wouldn’t be as difficult as the ones before. That this one would work. She didn’t know if to hope or fear it being the last. It shattered her that she no longer knew what he hoped for.

She gathered the light around her, kissed his baldness, and rose to stand.

“For now, my love, let’s float.”

 

 

For What Pegman Saw: Rawson Lake Canada

 

Un-Pacified

Womens March instagram Onyvava

Instagram/@onyvava

 

One cannot pacify hatred

By fueling more hate,

Just as violence will not be calmed

Via harming.

Arguments aren’t settled

When truths are shut up,

Nor can peace be made by

The war-glorifying.

There is no equality

While oppression is sought

And brutality cannot

Bring on healing.

So rallies where ‘greatness’

Is clothed in cruel acts

Breed not power nor awe

But disdain,

As leadership’s hubris is paid

By the vulnerable

Again and again.

 

Merriam-Webster’s word for August 3, 2018:

Pacify

This post continues the blogging challenge in which Merriam-Webster’s Word of the Day, serves as inspiration a-la the “Daily Prompt.”

Want to join me? Feel free to link to this post on your blog, and/or post a link to your blogpost in the comment section below so others can enjoy it, too. Poetry, photography, short stories, anecdotes: Go for it!

For more visibility, tag your post with #WordOfDayNY, so your post can be searchable.

“Follow” me if you want to receive future prompts, or just pop in when you’re looking for inspiration. Here’s to the fun of writing and our ever-evolving blogging community!

Not All Is Lost

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

 

They were always getting blown out of their homes. She couldn’t stand it. She knew how it felt to be homeless, especially for a youngling. And she’d seen the devastation of parents who’d returned to find some force had swept their babies off to unknown and worse places. She knew about being lost.

She was going to stop it.

At least for them.

Surely if she built it, they will come.

She kept checking and almost despaired, but one morning … there they were.

“Welcome home,” she whispered to the first eggs laid.

 

 

For Friday Fictioneers, August 3, 2018

 

Musical Muse

saxophone bridge SmadarHalperinEpshtein

Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein

 

They emerge deep at night

To play tunes out of sight

Giants, trolls, hoards of sprites

To the bridge they alight

Where they’ll sing till first light.

If you listen, you might

Catch a tune fleeting bright

Ode to sax stuck upright.

 

 

For the A Photo A Week Challenge: Music

 

Her Best Dress

three line tales week 131: take my hand

Photo by Prince Akachi via Unsplash

 

“Come.” She said. She pulled him up and dried his face with the edge of her best dress.

“Where?” He hiccupped, too spent for sobs. Everything hurt.

“Away.” Her voice was soft but hard. “We’ll be miles from here by the time he wakes up.”

 

For Three Line Tales, Week 131

 

Silent No More

Looking back DvoraFreedman

Photo: Dvora Freedman

 

In the restless nights

They walked

Silent in the desert

Stalked

While the prowlers

Rose to halt

And turn hope

To anguished fault.

But we’ll silent be

No more

For those who had been harmed

Before.

And we will raise our voice

To show

That cruelty we will not

Let grow.

 

 

For dVerse Poets: Sounds of Silence