rebecca’s friday prompt recuerda mi corazon [haiku my heart]
photo: lukahak2010, flickr
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sharing the sunlight
she sits silent observing
the scratch of a bird
rebecca’s friday prompt recuerda mi corazon [haiku my heart]
photo: lukahak2010, flickr
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sharing the sunlight
she sits silent observing
the scratch of a bird
three word wednesday: dare, essence, practical
photo: quiet, ms lume, flicr
the subtle essence of C
placed perfectly in the middle
anchors my soul to the sound of a serenade
the tips of my fingers placed so light
soothes the trembling
hardly no one sees
the dare of a challenge
ponders between the days and nights
noting nothing is as practical as an hour practicing
essential to the soul the mind moves
the fingers play and sound
shifts the candle light
over at big tent poetry the monday prompt is clause poetry, courtesy of Briar Cat
photo: talkingplant, flickr
closed eyes swaying
a hum of happiness soars
then was when my eyes opened to
a wash of waves coming ashore
a thousand yellow suns
broadcasting light and warmth
saturated sunday afternoon swim
closed eyes swaying
the heat was building, sweat and
circumstance soon tore open the sky
billowing buds of bejeweled blue benevolence
a hum of happiness soars
contemplating clouds of clarity
fussy feathers fidgeting for freedom
swept away wings sprouted wide
then was when my eyes opened to
a modest and soothing splash
the tingling touch of cool waters
hinting at a home encompassing wrap
a wash of waves coming ashore
one single impression sunday’s prompt no 141: pause
photo: Singing Bird. , kvan3k, flickr
quiet calm gray skies
constant dripping drizzle roars
rainfall wets the world
an open window flutters
the tweet of a dry bird sings
one single impression: this week’s topic suggested by snow white is empty.
located in the most northeast corner of texas where only the wind and fields exist one could hear the telling of abandoned stories so close to home….
remnants of a house
pardon the passive rooms
conscious with the corruptible
wide open window
watching for a future
forever expecting
spirit shadows soaring
waving wings on their way
gold droppings falling fast
being bare of color
vacant wild ramblings roar
smell a rift beguile time
benevolent white clouds bend
hot with heat the sun prevails
delicate dizzy seeds ignite
messy with meaning
intermittent sticky notes
written with a wiry flare
found by fortuity
a hundred years later
the paled paper speaks of age