A steady stream ~
Nonsensical faces, words and strides.
In and out of consciousness
A pretty heady ride.

A ghostly pallor.
A dribble and a sigh.
She knew not what to think or say
Her pillows sat too high.

Legs, then arms, akimbo
Satisfied and spent.
Sixty years alone and counting
Alone: She had no gent.

Dreams, unfulfilled dramas
This had become her life.
Afraid to venture beyond four walls
If only she’d become a wife.

Allow for more ~
More joy, more pleasure.
Look. But also see.
There is much to be, to gather, to do.

This is our time.
Blossom and enjoy the life we have,
The life we choose to live.
Perspective, attitude, grace
All are under our control.

We are in charge of our own happiness.
Destiny: That’s ours to manage.
There is bliss to be had
In even just knowing this alone.

Daily Prompt: Blossom

Nothing within
Or without.

What do I have, what can I offer
That is beautiful
Or elegant,
Unique
Or sublime?

Try, just try
She told herself,
Finally.

And so, with genuine effort,
Resolve and enthusiasm
She was able to rock her own world.

Self-confidence: To the moon.
The resulting joy: Profound.
Curiosity: I think I can, I think I can.

This changes everything…

Daily Prompt: Create

We are limited in scope
To what we can accomplish
This day, this hour, this minute.
This life.

The breadth and depth and velocity
Of our passions
Is the key.
The volume of life is consummated in perfection: Love, kindness, nature and beauty.

Nothing matters more. All else matters, really, not at all.

Daily Prompt: Volume

Family traditions
Revived each generation.
Heirlooms, rightful treasures
Secrets manufactured and displayed.

Attempts to douse the light:
Darkness reigns, the human condition embellished.
And yet, no amount of scrub and polish
Can undo that which must not be known.

Private affairs must remain so,
Confidences never shattered.
A sigh and one’s gaze, averted
To shutter and deny what is true.

Too heavy a burden to rest on any one’s soul ~ for a lifetime, no less.
Some skeletons are best kept in the graveyard of ancient understanding.
Let those whose skins have been shed and stripped away rest in peace.
A sanctuary for all.

Daily Prompt: Polish

The painter’s brush
Strokes of color and genius
Inspired by light,
Love and hate. Questions, too.

The writer, as well,
Conveys a matching brilliance.
One that is more subtle
And thus, all the more endearing –
And precious – for the beholder.

Muse. Inspiration.
Wild delight!
The lovely words:
My refuge, my joy.
My flight.

A grassy bank
Blue sky overhead
Fluffy white clouds
Tall grasses swaying in the wind.

Teenage years
Always filled with angst.
Yearning, discovery
Sometimes pain and loss.

I remember lying there
Wondering about the world.
Idealistic brain babblings.
So sure of how things should be.

Trying to figure it out
‘Where do I fit in?’
And sometimes, that small voice:
‘Do I fit in? Do I belong?’

All these years later
I can still visualize that one particular moment.
So unaware of what was yet to come.
Considering this, the future is not so daunting.

Always, one foot forward.
What else are you going to do?

My father’s sawmill:
Lovingly built and nurtured
For more than fifty years.

He got into the business
Grudgingly, at first
From my mother’s dad.

Prostate cancer took Daddy from us
He’d lived a good life.
I miss him.

It’s sad that no one
Took over the mill.
No one to carry on his legacy.

So. We simply remember
With joy and with pride.

Daily Prompt: Apprentice

The bar scene: Strobe lights, dancing,
Saturday Night Fever.
Places to shake your groove thing.
To see — and be seen. Guys, take note!

Girlfriends all made up, on the prowl
Going out on the town.
Best duds (new duds), eyes made up a bit too much: Spider Eyes.
High heels, wobbly as all get out but dang girl – so sexy!

Charlie, Opium.
White Shoulders, Enjoli.
Avon Sweet Honesty. Musk.
Love’s Baby Soft ~

“What’s that you’re wearing? Bug spray?!”

Perhaps not as hot as I’d hoped for, I’m afraid. Ah, youth.

Daily Prompt: Perfume