My Sentence

I ventured into this once beautiful woodland that somehow rotted and decayed when darkness fell.

It fell quickly upon this thicket. The once lovely trees now hollow, what evil could they possess?

Will this unfamiliar forest become known to me as the one where restless spirits dwell?

My heart pounding in my chest, sensing danger, the wicked here most certainly know of my distress.

 

Adrenalin raging, I’m trembling, stumbling with labored breath through this cold cloud.

Grazing unknown entities in this dark realm, lingering ominous peril closing in.

Shapes darker than the surrounding darkness keeping me here in their murky shroud.

Time dawdling by with the present danger raising every hair in every pore of my skin.

 

I didn’t believe the legends of these woods. Tales of evil phenomenon, I wish I could forget.

Panicking for an exit strategy while all the tales are playing on the silver screen of my mind.

Regular patrons on their stools drinking pints, haunting laughter, puffing their cigarettes.

Amongst this tangled, thorny scrub until sunrise, remembering the beautiful sunset I left behind.

 

Photo: Tobias Huske/Unsplash

Linking with Poets United for Sumana’s midweek motif “Sunsets”

http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/

 

Life can be tied into a bundle

With narration and stored away

Only to be discovered

By someone else one day

If they look with care

They might notice

Wear and tear

But, there

life

 

 

Photo: Joanna Kosinska/unsplash

My Nonet Poem

http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/

 

 

I wish you love precious one

I wish you faith and hope

Because, when its all said and done

Even when you cry

Life will sing its lullaby

 

I wish you laughter precious one

I wish you song and dance

Because, when its all said and done

Even when you sigh

Life will sing its lullaby

 

I wish you strength precious one

In my absence from this earth

Because, when its all said and done

Even in goodbye

Life will sing its lullaby

 

 Photo: RYK Naves/ Unsplash

Let’s pack the car one summer, travel to the coast,

allowing all the boardwalks to wear holes in our shoes.

Take in the sea views, make postcard perfect posts,

sharing with friends on social media, giving our reviews.

 

Let the squawking carnies hustle us into their games,

with cotton candy hands and mustard on our chin,

let’s spend a wad of money until we walk away in shame,

only after we’ve played until our fingers are worn thin.

 

Head over to the carousel, pick out our favorite painted pony,

where time slows down with an old familiar organ song.

Watch crowds shuffle by with their dripping cones and cronies,

and, gawk at the oddities and jugglers, while children tag along.

 

I can’t wait to drag you on the roller coasters and, the Ferris wheels.

Our hearts fluttering in our chests with the garish neon’s in our eyes,

slowly climbing the steep heights until we plummet as we squeal.

Let’s walk the well beaten paths of boardwalks, every shape and size.

 

 

Linking with The Sunday Muse #20

https://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/

Labels: muse, ocean, sunset on a cloudy day, boardwalk

 

I was born too early in April,

but, ready to swing from a tree.

Every time doctors say I won’t,

I say, I will!  You just wait and see.

 

Hospitals, doctors, and therapy,

Is on my long to do list.

But, so is avocado with bananas,

in Nawna’s arms and, being kissed.

 

There’s so many who love me,

cheering me on so I’ll blossom.

They say, way to go monkey girl,

and, I laugh feeling awesome.

 

Momma was strong and loving,

she passed her strength to me.

She’s going to be proud of monkey girl.

One day I’m going to climb that tree.

 

 

“For my precious great granddaughter”

“In loving memory of my granddaughter who loved her with all her heart.”

 

I’ve been thinking a lot about pie,

what it is, and what it’s not.

Some rather flat, some piled high,

some served cold or piping hot.

 

Eskimo pie? It can’t be pie.

On a stick, drips, drips, drips.

Moon pie? I cannot lie,

moon pie won’t pass my lips.

 

Maybe pizza pie covered in cheese.

Shepherd’s pie? There’s no crust!

Chicken pot pie? Oh, yes please!

Boston cream pie is just a bust.

 

Crust, or no crust, fruit or meat,

hearty, savory or sugar and spice.

Most would agree it’s hard to beat.

Just go have a slice and, don’t think twice.

 

 

Photo: Annie Spratt/Unsplash

 

 

 

 

Give me an Autumn road to roam.

Anywhere away from home.

A mountainside all a glow.

A pristine stream down below.

A hike in the crisp mountain air,

under the trees before their bare.

The hunt for the perfect water fall,

lovely and majestically tall.

Noisy screech owls at night.

Glowing crackling campfire light.

A few fireflies drifting by.

An Iron skillet and a fish to fry.

A warm mug of cider in my hand.

Songs from the frog and cricket band.

A warm jacket lined with fleece.

And, I’ll have peace and thankfulness.

 

Photo: Patrick Tomasso/unsplash

 

 

Dad’s old wooden boat.

My starship.

Friends, sunsets, sowing our wild oats.

Day’s spent in starship all alone.

Dad crying out, come in!

Another daydream blown.

My first kiss under the full moon.

Later, I wept there too,

like the world would end that June.

One less boyfriend, but starship left me whole.

I really miss the nights the Milky Way,

reached down and stole my soul.

It seems strange to be back here in starship.

I never thought I’d weep here again.

Even though I’ve said goodbye to you, dad.

I’d give anything to hear you call me in.

 

Photo:”Girl on the Boat”   by William Oxer

 

Photo by Drew Graham, unsplash