Photo: Amitai Asif
As her eyes finally
Closed
And her breath
Not returned,
She knew
What awaited her
Just
‘Round the bend:
A new journey
Ascends
Life beyond
Epoch’s end.
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Epoch in 27 words
Note: Dedicated to all who face the final journey … and thus to all … for we all would. May we walk life’s path the way we can and should.
Photo: Free-to-use-sounds, on Unsplash
From the hollows of despair, they fled.
The shirts on their backs and the children
In their arms, all they could manage to
Take.
Even the abysmal shelters they had recently
Been made to call
Home,
No longer gave any protection or
A chance at repair or
Reform.
They left, dodging death and finding
Further fright to
Flee,
And in their hearts they held on
Tightly
To the slowly fraying
Memory,
Of days when life was softer
And beds were warm,
And babies slept
Well kept
Safe from war and hate and
Harm.
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Abysmal in 93 words
Note: Dedicated to all displaced, terrorized, pressed, oppressed, persecuted persons everywhere, and to the many millions who had, throughout history and in recent memory and in today’s times, been forced to further risk their lives by leaving what had once been home and safety behind, for the unknown.
Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein
Never quite able to move beyond the yearning,
Formed into a pose
Between desire and
Response,
They are frozen, sculptured into something
That cannot become reality
Despite constant striving,
Their despair exposed
At a heartless ornamental pond.
Still their eyes do not the silent gaze drop.
Even as their hands are
Locked away from the ability to
Enfold,
Set in stone they are forever reaching
For an embrace
That cannot
Form.
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Sculpture in 71 words
Photo: Amitai Asif
“There is no need to die,”
He stretched his long legs
And sighed,
“To experience bliss
In the here
In the now.
We need only
Allow.”
She leaned back
And exhaled
What should have long been
Expelled.
As the breeze kissed
Her cheeks,
She prepared to be
Healed,
In the Eden on Earth
Of Elysian fields.
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Elysian in 56 words
Photo: Jamie Street on Unsplash
The hammer rose, the gavel dropped
As justice found no peace.
Corruption forced doors closed
And barred.
The records sealed.
The future scarred.
And through the shards
Of looking-glass
Died efforts made for
Governance.
The People found
Their oaths destroyed
By those fawning
Over naked
Emperors.
The tatters of longstanding laws
Reduced to rags under the feet
That now dance
Only to
Heil deceit.
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Looking-Glass in 64 words
Photo: Amy-Leigh Barnard on Unsplash
He believes he is perfect,
The Gods’ answer to fate.
And they can all now retire,
For they had taken the bait.
He’ll dominate every action,
He’ll defend every crime,
If it’s done to the benefit
Of his imperious climb.
He recruits many minions
Who fetch and carry his deeds,
For to him it is given
That they’ll kowtow to his creed.
He will squelch any protest,
He’ll ridicule any voice
That dares not speak his glory
Or demands to have choice.
He is crass, and he bullies
Lashes out at dissent,
Because to him it is treason
If people still seek consent.
He is cruel, he is shallow
He full worship expects,
He will break every branch
To feed his Tyrannical Rex.
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Imperious at 123 words
Note: The photo of a (small handed) Animatronic Tyrannosaurus (T-Rex) was taken by Amy-Leigh Barnard at the Natural History Museum in London. No offense intended in the poem to the dinosaurs, extinct though they are.
Photo: Pablo Martinez on Unsplash
Blow gently into the embers
Of
Your dreams.
So the quiet flames
Of what you’d always wished
And perhaps did not know how
To do
Can lick them into hope
Anew.
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Anew in 31 words
Photo: Caroline Attwood on Unsplash
She mixed and measured, weighed and watched, stirred and sprinkled, steeped and sliced.
She’d gotten every item ready. She made sure she had all the tools. She kept the temperature exact.
This one was going to come out just right.
She double checked each line. She’d compared reviews for different versions of the recipe, to ensure this one worked fine.
The kitchen fan hummed.
Her phone rang.
The house smelled of burnt garlic. She was deafened by the smoke alarm.
The roast was toast.
She could have cried. …
She should have known that her ever-hungry teenage son would devour it as is, as soon as he sat down.
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Devour in 108 words
Photo: Tara Meinczinger on Unsplash
“Where’s Valentine?”
I peered into the other room. “Lollygagging.”
“Again?! I thought I told him to give up that nonsense. He’s way too old for this kind of foolishness. I’ll douse him with cold water!”
“He’s not osculating, Mama.”
“Stop being a Peeping Tom …” Pause. Sigh. Flick of the hand. “What’s he doing, then?”
“Just dawdling.”
“With whom?”
“His phone …”
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Lollygag in 60 words
N. juncifolius, Carolus Clusius Rariorum stirpium 1576
He has a bit of complex,
Or lots more than
A bit.
A tremendous,
Big
Complex.
One that logic
He won’t allow
Beat.
Some believe
It’s destructively
Unique,
But in truth
It is just
Textbook
Case
Of the morbidly
Unfit.
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Challenge: Complex in 41 words
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