Dew On A Banana Leaf

ferhat-deniz-fors-ebs1W8X2cPQ-unsplash

(Photo: Ferhat Deniz Fors on Unsplash)

 

“Have you seen her?” Mark thrust his head and shoulders through the open dutch door.

Ella nodded carefully. The light’s angle made the perspiration dotting Mark’s wide forehead look like dew on a banana leaf. How odd.

“And?” he pressed.

“Daphne is fine.”

Mark grunted his impatience. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it!”

Ella sighed in resignation. There will be no escaping the truth, no matter how much it could hurt him. “There’s a glow about her, if you must know.”

Mark sagged.

“And … an engagement ring on her finger.”

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt of Glow in 94 words

 

In Every Dawn

New Dawn

(Photo: Na’ama Yehuda)

 

The light spun silent waves

Of day

Into her heart,

Her chambers slowly opening

Their delicate petals

To sing

The morning’s chant.

There is a hope,

She knows,

In every dawn.

Its breath imparting

An oasis

And a coming home.

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Oasis in 40 words

 

The Underside of Recollection

mick-haupt-K8wg6RlFhhQ-unsplash

(Photo: Mick Haupt on Unsplash)

 

It was merely by a feather,

But nonetheless a

Tether

To a life before,

When friends were at the

Door,

And when she did not have to worry

About honor, trust, or

Glory.

She held on to the underside

Of recollection.

To the roots of love that

Promised a

Direction.

For there had been simplicity to life,

An implicit understanding

That words as given were meant

To keep,

And that the sun will rise in

The morn after a

Sleep.

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Tether in 80 words

 

Arranged

ben-rosett-xI_-wFJhCiM-unsplash

(Photo: Ben Rosett on Unsplash)

 

There was not much to do but wait.

And hope.

The lots were cast,

Though she had very little trust

In such.

It was not for her

To decide.

Now it was just,

The drip of minutes

Through childhood’s hourglass.

Dreams slowly fraying

Into dust,

While growing worries,

Poke trembling shoots

Into her heart.

Will this unknown,

Chosen for her

Husband,

Will he be

Kind?

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Challenge: unknown in 65 words

 

Uncanny

 

There was a mystery

To their madness.

An uncanny sense of

Doom.

But she did not flail

Afraid

In darkness,

Whilst she could spot a petal

Bloom.

Instead, she watched

With rapt intention

As life suffused

Their eerie

Gloom.

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Uncanny in 39 words

 

Tiny Tidings

 

The dreary times were soon to pass.

No matter that her breath still steamed both outdoors and inside the drafty house. No matter that her red fingers barely bent with swelling and that the chilblains on her toes still burned and ached and itched. No matter that she took so long to warm come night that she almost despaired of sleeping.

The dreary times were soon to pass.

She knew.

True, it was still frosty.

But the cold was dying.

She knew, because the ice formed only on the very edges of her washbasin and because what frost adorned the ground in the morning would transmute into miniature mirrors of dew by the time the sun rose higher in the sky.

And because she saw the primrose.

Blooming.

Out there.

In audacious glee.

If the tiny flowers could endure the remnants of frigidity, so could she.

 

 

For Crispina’s Crimson’s Creative Challenge

 

Everything

(Photo: Inbar Asif)

 

It was everything

To her

To tend the naked vines that sprawled

Across her soul,

And through the long cold

Winter

To let the sun pour 

Over

The sprawling expanse of not-yet-sweetness,

As she hoped

And prayed

For fruit

Ripening amidst abundance

Into wine.

 

 

For the dVerse poetry quadrille challenge: Wine

In A Heartbeat

Basalt Fog KarenForte

(Photo: Karen Forte)

 

The fog cocooned her.

A swift blanket

Of numbing

Penetrative chill

The sun could not

Expel.

And yet

A butterfly’s wing

Flicked against

Her cheek.

A kiss

Of warmer

Days.

A promise for

What what could,

In a heartbeat,

Thaw frost

Into bedazzled

Hope.

 

 

For the dVerse quadrille challenge: swift

For Carol. On your birthday in heaven. Butterfly kisses galore.

 

 

Beguiled

rhett-wesley-NQexDDK9P9w-unsplash

(Photo: Rhett Wesley on Unsplash)

 

When she returned home

They thought

She had grown into what they had always

Hoped she’d be.

Instead she was

A mistress of

Illusion.

A mouth that spoke,

A smile that held

A hidden mock,

Bewitching their longing

Into the

Nightmare

She had planned

For them to feel

But not

See.

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Beguile in 51 words

 

 

Newfound

jon-tyson-r9T0LZv8xWQ-unsplash

(Photo: Jon Tyson on Unsplash)

She lay in bed and let the day’s words wash over her.

A soft stream in the mayhem.

“You’re a tenacious child,” her teacher said, eyes smiling. “You’ve tried and tried and made this grade your own. Not everyone would have continued, but you did. I am so proud.”

Tenacious, she mouthed into the dark and tuned off shouts and thuds and cries. So proud, she curled into the glow of newfound understanding.

 

 

For Sammi‘s Weekend Writing Prompt: Tenacious in 73 words