photo by Sharon McCutcheon via Skillshare
He’d always been her golden child, born after years of sorrow.
He’d always been her precious jewel, the promise of tomorrow.
He’s gone to take the saffron robes, been hers only to borrow.
He’d always been her golden child, born after years of sorrow.
He’d always been her precious jewel, the promise of tomorrow.
He’s gone to take the saffron robes, been hers only to borrow.

Photo by icon0.com on Pexels.com
If I could just forestall the suffering
Of little ones
Locked by a heartless bind
And prevented even from the comfort
Of their parents’ loving arms.
If I could somehow stave off
Their sorrow
And their helpless rage
For what should never have been made
Reality
At their tender age.
If only we all raised our voices
And demanded cruelty stop,
Maybe those who caused the pain
And obviate the healing
Will make way
For better others
Who would lead not by agony
But hope.
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!

Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein
Come this way and I’ll show you
The best spots for
Sweet cherries.
Come this way
I’ll protect you
From the thorns
On the berries.
Hold my hand
Be my friend.
From today to the end
You can on me
Depend.
For Cee’s Which Way Photo Challenge

Photo: Inbar Asif
Dancing light on the water
A bright night in the bay
Turning shimmering rainbows
To melted ink on display.
For the Wits End Photo Challenge: Nightlife
“I am not dressing up as a doctor!”
Twins or no twins, he’d had it with his sister deciding their costumes. He’d been Prince Charming, Prince Un-Charming (consort to Princess Uglyanna). He’d been Mr. Smee. He’d been a screw (guess who was the screwdriver), a nail (yep, Maya was the hammer), a flower (to her bee). And those were the less embarrassing ones.
“You could be an evil doctor imprisoned by an eviler scientist,” she enticed.
“In your dreams,” he replied.
She grinned. “Or in yours. As in, literally. Tonight.”
For The Friday Fictioneers Challenge

Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein
Through summer’s heat or winter’s snows
He stony-faced
Nonetheless blows
A flow of life
That never slows.
The step of people passing by
Is all he knows.
For Cee’s Black & White Photo Challenge

Earlier today, as I was attempting to video a particularly adorable little one, my phone froze. It would not budge. It refused even to turn off. Total strike. When it finally relented, responded, and restarted, it claimed that the MicroSD card that had lain securely in its innards, accumulating goodies, was “blank or has unsupported files.” Gulp!
Removing and remounting the tiny tech did nada. Restarting again? Zilch. Thousands of photos, videos, music and docs – more than 27 Gigabytes’ worth – gone! Some are backed up, perhaps, someplace. Many? Who knows.
I breathed. I zoomed through the phases of grief. I put the phone away. I fed the toddler some fruit. We both had a sip (and spill) of water. We chased dogs, a little boy with a ball, an ant, and three pigeons.
Back home, I tried to view Micro (it felt right to name it, after it turned my day on its head) on the computer. No luck. Not only did my laptop refuse to load the card’s info, it would not even acknowledge that Micro existed. To add insult to injury, Micro’s ordeal somehow managed to keep it invisible even as it shut down the whole card-reader drive so it would not read any other memory cards, either. Micro had suffered Total Amnesia With Driver-Scrambling Influences.
Even according to the normally super helpful remote-‘hijackers’ of computers, the poor data that had lived on Micro, is to be presumed evaporated. Oh, my phone returned to work deceptively fine. The contacts are intact. So are any WhatsApp images (normally so infuriatingly immune to living anyplace but the prime real-estate of internal storage, and now more snobbish than ever, being the only ones to have survived). It is the photos I’d taken myself, the videos I’d shot, the files I’d stored, the music I’d downloaded, that have disappeared into the abyss. Whatever caused this massive ‘phone syncope,’ it damaged only the deceptively giant brain of my little Micro, but by all accounts it did so spectacularly!
So here I am, a bit disoriented and feeling a touch of loss and more than a bit bewildered. I can’t help but worry that whatever had caused the irreversible amnesia might pay a return visit, especially as the culprit remains unexplained (and unrecoverable). It doesn’t help that certified geeks spent hours trying to figure out how one scrambled Micro-SD managed to make other cards not be readable just by association, and continued to do so even after repairs, rebuilds, refresh, and the odd time-travel of restore.
Being prone to seeing synchronicity as messaging, I’m wondering if today’s drama is a metaphor for the contagion of energy and chaos. So timely with the current snags and ripples in the fabric of memory and history.
Adieu, photos. Adieu, videos. Adieu, all manner of notes. I remember some of you very fondly. I admit to not quite knowing what many of you were. I will miss you all, anyway.
One day (soon, if Murphy has a say in it, which he tends to in such cases), I might find myself looking for an image or a file that I just know I had ‘someplace’, only to realize that it was probably part of today’s giant exodus.
In the meanwhile, I hope this data-crater becomes an opening to new energies and an invitation for new memories on Micro-The-Second. I choose to view this as (yet another) lesson into the temporary yet indelible existence of every moment, be it captured into tangible memory or not.
For the One Word Sunday Challenge: Giant

Photo Credit: Yael Yehuda
In a world
Where tyrants gobble power
By cruel dominance,
There whispers also
The small voice
Of kind-souled cognizance.
With hands that hold the weak
And hearts that see
The sorrow,
They will become the light by which
We’ll write a new tomorrow.
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!

Photo: Inbar Asif
Pink, greens, purple and some blues
Siamese white and yellow, too
A bike that somehow rose and flew
Graffiti that some hoodlums drew:
This building will stand out to you!

Photo: Imgbuddy.com
If you disfigure truth
So far that
Facts no longer
Recognize their own face
In your mirror,
You have transgressed
Beyond white lies
To become
A grotesque interferer.
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!
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