Oasis #Decima #Poem #SixSentenceStories

We seek oasis, safe and warm,
A beacon shining in the dark.
We need a fire to light our spark!
We long for shelter from the storm.
When troubles come, they come in swarms
And prey on thinking that’s confined.
We’ve lost our way, because we’re blind
To greater good and higher plan.
Yet guided by an unseen hand,
We reach oasis in our mind!


A Decima for
Ronovan Writes D├ęcima Poetry Challenge Prompt No. 33: (BLIND) in the C rhyme line.
Also written for
#SixSentenceStories: Oasis.

Waxing Rewards – Tale Weaver #302 #SixSentenceStories #Music

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I could wax poetic about the joys of playing a musical instrument! And indeed, there are many rewards. However, they don’t come at the beginning, when what you hear in your head sounds so much more beautiful than what you’re playing actually brings forth. The rewards wax like the moon, appearing with time, great patience, focused practice, and a healthy sense of humor! Meanwhile, you can still have fun and enjoy learning, as with this piece called “Carousel” that I wrote for viola and ukulele. If you want to learn a musical instrument, realize that it must be learned, that beginners aren’t supposed to sound like professionals–and play on!


Written for
MLMM Tale Weaver #302 – Beginnings
and
#SixSentenceStories – Wax

Marco’s Story: A Dog’s Tale

I had my dog, Marco, for six years. He’s a Jack Russell and Boston Terrier mix, which means he’s a maniac! But so adorable! I was living with my sister and brother-in-law at the time, and my son was with me every other week during the Summer. We had talked about getting a small dog, but didn’t really look around for one. It was just understood that when we found the right one, it was OK to bring him home.

Enter Sue, who owned a local kennel and knew we were open to adopting a dog. Marco wasn’t her dog; a friend of hers knew that he no longer fit into his current owners’ family. So, Sue and I went to visit him.

It was a beautiful, warm day at the end of May. When Sue and I reached the front of Marco’s house, before we even got out of the car, Sue exclaimed, “Oh, Crystal! He’s so cute!” Marco’s expressive ears were all but waving in the Spring breeze, as if to greet us.

Unfortunately, 5-month-old Marco was tied to the porch railing by a fraying leash, and there was an empty water bowl in front of him. I could only hope this wasn’t how he was treated consistently, but in my heart I knew it was.

I knelt down in the grass and approached Marco cautiously, with my hand outstretched. He, however, ran at me like a whirlwind! He immediately jumped into my lap, put his puppy paws on my shoulders, and began licking my face like I was a long lost friend.

Needless to say, that was it. At that very moment, Marco became my dog. Sue gave me a bag of puppy food, and I took him home.

Marco took to everyone in the house as quickly as he’d taken to me. Well, all except the cat, but that’s another story!

I left the bag of puppy food unattended, while I went upstairs to put away my things. When I returned, Marco had gotten the bag open and was voraciously chowing down, right out of the bag!

It took several weeks before he realized he would have good, proper love, care, and all the food and water he needed. But he came around, and he brought so much joy to our lives for the six years I had him.

When I moved two years ago, I couldn’t bring Marco. The pet deposit was $300, and I had enough trouble paying the security deposit, not to mention the extra $25 tacked onto the rent each month if tenants had a pet. I miss Marco and often smile, remembering all his antics. However, he is still well loved, fed, and cared for. And if he saw me today, I’m sure Marco would still love me, as I still love him!


Written for
#Threethingschallenge #420: Bag, tale, run

Clipped #SixSentenceStories

The driver turned to his partner and sighed.

“One more job and we’ll call it quits forever!”

Quietly, they entered the house, clipped the appropriate wires as they had a hundred times before, and just as quietly left.

Only this time, a police car met them on the street.

“You’re under arrest for asaulting batteries!”

“But we’re electricians!”


Written for
#SixSentenceStories: Clip

Wedding Day

The splashing of pink rain boots announced her impending arrival. Even though it was their wedding day, only she was happy.

Everyone else was acting like the day–gloomy, dark, and dreary. Sure, the weather was miserable, but did all the guests have to be miserable, too?

Finally, with her arrival, the guests came to life! She had exchanged her pink rain boots for even pinker slippers, and as she danced into the sanctuary, the guests applauded. Some even laughed!

How could they not? I mean, here was the lovely, accomplished, prim and proper wedding harpist, not only in pink slippers, but dancing down the aisle, harp strapped securely to her chest, playing with abandon, heralding the bride’s all-important entrance!

Only the bride was unhappy now. Why, oh why, did she have to follow the harpist? Everyone was paying attention to the wrong woman coming down the aisle!


My response to Dylan’s
First Line Friday

Patience #SixSentenceStories

“Tender the goods to me immediately!
I’ve no time for your excuses!
I want the merchandise now,
wanted it weeks, months, years ago, in fact!”

Such a conversation may get the goods,
but it will burn all our bridges in the process!

Patience is always best, though it can be difficult.
I guess that’s why they say
Patience is a virtue!


A contemplative poem written for Denise’s
#SixSentenceStories Prompt: Tender

An Inspired Foundation #SixSentenceStories

If you’re a writer–and if you’re reading this, I’d say most of you are–then you know that just about anything can be an inspiration!

It could be nature, someone you know, a comment, a pet peeve, a conversation, a dream, an idea, an ending you didn’t like, or something you find fascinating, just to name a few.

If you’re a poet, a rhythm might inspire you, or maybe a rhyme scheme, a funny sound, a moral of some sort, or a prompt generously provided by someone else.

You never know when inspiration will strike, and you had better be ready when it does!

Of course, there’s the dreaded writer’s block, but that’s rarely been a problem for me.

I’m no different from you, but I remember my foundation and why I write at all: To seek the Light in life and to pass on what I’ve found!


Written for Denise’s prompt at
#SixSentenceStories: Foundation.

Making Friends with Night #Poem

I used to await the night with dread,
because I couldn’t sleep
Or had nightmares when I did drift off.

There was no cozy cabin in the woods for me,
no memories of picnics with deviled eggs,
no land of blossoms,
no trusting unicorn prancing for a ride.

And so, I became a night owl,
even as a child.
Being older now,
I still don’t sleep well at night,
and I still have nightmares at times.

Yet I await the night
like the dawning of the Age of Aquarius,
for this is when ideas take shape.
Cotton clouds drift across my mind,
becoming day dreams turned reality.

It’s night!
It’s showtime!


My response to Linda Kruschke’s
Paint Chip Poetry Prompt #43: To Night.