Have Your Say

WriteTime NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

Make time to write.

A moment. A minute. An hour. A day.

Whatever you can find.

Make it yours.

Have your say.

 

 

 

On Delicate Wings

On delicate wings NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

What had happened to you

In the short life

You knew?

Your wings’ rhythm

Aflutter

To a drum

Gone

Askew?

Your beauty imbued

By what could life

Subdue,

You flit on right

Through,

Gloriously determined,

To be you,

To be you.

 

 

 

 

For the Sunday Stills challenge: A bug’s life

 

 

Feasible Focus

In Focus NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

Some jump out,

Intent on being

Captured

By the lens,

The center

Of focused

Attention,

While others

Fade delicately

Into the blurry

Background

To observe,

Potentially

Just as content.

 

 

 

For the Tuesday Photo Challenge: Focus

 

The Fifth

Me-age10mos-story telling

Me, telling stories at 10 months

 

Fifth of seven, all girls, I was born

Telling tales.

Far enough to duck rules

For first, middle, or last,

I grabbed place

To be me

And held on

Talking fast.

 

As what shouldn’t be

Grew

And real life wove

Impossible,

Words remained

Nonetheless

In my soul

In my brain,

To be clasped

And sustain

Life and joy

Times again.

 

 

For Terri’s Sunday Stills Challenge: Fifth

 

Uniquely Rolled

handmade ChagitMoriahGibor

Photo: Chagit Moriah-Gibor

 

Roll the dough

And aim to shape it.

Press chocolate pieces

One by one.

‘Tis no product of

Machine identical,

But cookies proud

Of a child’s hand.

 

 

For the Tuesday Photo Challenge: Roll

 

 

Determined

Delicate DvoraFreedman

Photo: Dvora Freedman

 

Rise above

Hardship’s fray

In gentle curls

Of delicate

Pink,

And an underbelly

Of powerful

Orange

Smelted from the

Brink.

 

 

For Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: Orange and Pink

 

 

Late Dance

dance OsnatHalperinBarlev

Photo: Rega’im Menatzhim

 

Things were winding down. Most tables had been cleared and many guests had left for home. Only the hardiest (or closest kin) still remained. Sated and a bit deflated with fatigue, they lounged, gossiped, tapped phones, and not-so-surreptitiously checked the time. Several small children slept on makeshift cots of pulled together chairs.

Music still played but with more inertia than conviction.

The celebration was officially over, though not for everyone: two boys, oblivious to the late hour and overall exhaustion, danced on.

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Celebration (82 words)