Keen Green

Praying Mantis Dvora Freedman

Photo: Dvora Freedman

 

Hello there,

How are you, Ma’am?

I’ve missed a spot?

Oh well, oh damn.

There’s no perfection

On the lam

And I’ve really

Got to scram.

Have you seen some

Elves around?

I’ve been told to

Look for rainbows

At the end of

Traffic jams,

(And yes, I know the

Gold’s a scam

But I’ll still give it

An exam).

 

 

 

For Terri’s Sunday Stills: Green

 

Reclaimed Royalty

 

https://naamayehudadotcom.files.wordpress.com/2019/03/7d39a-co.jpg?w=615

Lord O’Neill’s Cottage, Ram’s Island (from article in the Dublin Penny journal – 1830s) 

 

He’d come from royalty. Or at least from those who should’ve been but history had been too blind to realize their value. He’d seen promise in his older brother James: a lust for power and a need to force his will onto others. But James hadn’t shown enough self-preservation for a prince. A pity … but at least it left no issue of seniority.

Since childhood the conspiring doctors tried to claim him ill with “grandiosity.”

His mother failed to see. “We come from farmers, Thomas. Always have.”

Perhaps she truly believed her forefathers were but serfs to the O’Neills, but he knew better. He’d seen himself in the drawing, and it fit what he’d always known: He was destined for more, a royal progeny.

He’d take the island by force. It’ll make them realize it was past time he reclaimed what was his by rights, even if forgotten by history.

 

 

For What Pegman Saw: Northern Ireland

 

Have Heart For A Better Humanity

at the end of a day

Photo: Monique Laats on Pexels.com

 

When a place of worship crumbles

Into hell of gore and pain,

And the sorrows of the many

Become what connects us all again,

Know that care can conquer ugly

And that compassion outdoes hate’s disdain,

As long as we eject terror

To heed the better, deeper call,

That anything that harms our kinship

Diminishes the very core of all,

Just as anything that builds it

Can lead humanity to standing tall.

 

 

For Debbie’s Six Word Saturday

 

A Fleeting Equilibrium

balancing rock formation

Photo: Tina Nord on Pexels.com

 

She held her breath and waited for the instant

In time

Where Earth’s equator passed through

The center of the sun.

Imperfectly balanced

As it was

By arcs and tilt and latitudes,

She cared not about

The argument that it could never be

In ideal form,

Or that the exact timing

Varied

With convictions

And perceptions of the mind.

She paused nonetheless,

Determined

To witness the fleeting equilibrium

Of light and dark,

And the shift of balance

That it could,

perhaps today, allow.

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Equinox in 83 words

 

Unsettled Settings

colorful toothed wheels

Photo: Digital Buggu on Pexels.com

 

So, WordPress has had a bit of a snafu … where settings of some accounts have been somehow unilaterally altered, resulting in people not receiving email notifications for new posts from some websites.

I found out about the problem when I stopped receiving email notifications from my own blog to my own new posts …

WordPress support looked into it, and it seems that ‘something’ (WordPress doesn’t know, but I highly suspect goblins, who are known for mischief) had turned off new-post-email-notifications on my subscription to my own site! I had to manually go in to turn it back on, and it seems I am not alone …

If you hadn’t received emails about new posts from me over the last 2-3 days, I recommend checking that your new-posts-email-notifications are still turned on.

It only takes a moment.

Here’s how:

  1. Go to: https://wordpress.com/following/manage

  2. Scroll down the lists of websites you follow till you see my blog/website — there will be a little ‘setting’ cogwheel button underneath the “following” indicator.

  3. Click on the ‘settings’ and a small window will open. If the “email me new posts” option isn’t turned on, ‘switch it on’ and you’ll be all set.

[You can do the same with other websites you follow if you suspect you’ve somehow stopped getting emails about new posts from them – good indicator is if you can still see posts from them in your ‘Reader’ but hadn’t gotten emails about those posts.]

THANK YOU for reading this, and please let me know in the comments if you had similar issues and/or if your settings had been ‘goblinized’ … I am grateful to all of you who follow my blog and read my posts, and wouldn’t want anyone to miss posts from me or from other bloggers due to technical glitches and mishaps.

As for the goblins … may they go frolic with dragons and elves over pots of gold at ends of rainbows, and leave us humans to our bloggizations. Amen.

Na’ama

Soul Searching

NewZealand InbarAsif

Photo: Inbar Asif

 

Would you sell your soul

To sorrow?

Would you reap

Hate’s awful gain?

Would you let go of

Tomorrow

So false power

Rise again?

 

Will your heart see

All humanity?

What will you allow,

Sustain?

Will your soles

Feed earth

Or hollow

Out it’s wealth

To drain?

 

Will you leave

Your soul abandoned?

Will you let your spirit

Die?

Or will you hold on

To the morrow

In a world

For you

And I?

 

 

For the SoCS prompt: Soul/sole

 

 

At The Gate

At the gate NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

For the gate from the old

Must stand guard

Not by sword

But to hold

Off the passage of years

So the lessons of past

May find ways to

Be cast.

 

 

For Cee’s Black &White Photo Challenge: Fences and Gates

 

Not For Sale

three line tales, week 163: a special deal

Photo: Artem Bali via Unsplash

 

I will not be for sale. Not today. Not tomorrow.

Limit not my conditions. Offer no terms for me.

There’s no deal worth my special. Shelves or fly off – I’m free.

 

 

For Three Line Tales

 

Out Played

Photo prompt: © Anshu Bhojnagarwala

 

“It’s an effing eyesore.”

“I don’t care.”

Martin balled his fists but Susan just gazed at him.

She said nothing but he knew: Raise a finger on me and off to jail you go. The judge was clear: Anger-Management or prison. Martin took the former but could swear Susan’s infuriating behavior intended to get him the latter.

He inhaled slowly before turning away. “When Sanitation fines us,” he growled, “it’s all yours to pay.”

“Fine,” she shrugged. “Though I think they won’t.”

He glared. “Why? Got connections?”

“Nope,” she patted the rotting piano. “I’ve registered it as street art.”

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

 

 

Five Years Ago

Carol

Carol Hornig: Much loved, deeply missed

 

Five years ago today

You passed on

Into effervescent light,

Boundless love,

And joyful belly laughs.

 

It is no wonder, for

You have lived light, even

Through deep pain.

You have breathed

Unconditional

Love

And nourished all you’d met

Along your path.

You have gifted us all with your

Laughter,

Your glorious heart.

 

You are now

One

With it all,

In the place your soul

Must have always known

As home.