There’s a spot on the jaw, and under the chin,
That my fingers can touch, when he truly leans in.
Then his eyes squeeze shut and his head tips way back,
And I’m turning the tables with The Method Attack.
Poetry
Solstice Story
Source: Rob Swanson Photography
(Full Version)
She clambers atop the cardinal’s shoulders
Gently hooks soft knees over scarlet wings
Grasps the longest feathers of his crest
Almost Like Clockwork
The moon had traveled across the dark canvas of the sky,
Bursting plump and round as a pale white peach,
Pitted and waning to a sodden, softening half,
Slumping to a circlet that slouched on its backside,
Shrinking further still to the tiniest, driest sliver,
Until it finally
Winked out into nothing at all.
Apple Pie
The challenge? Write a story in 6 sentences, no more & no less, and if you’d like, share your creation or just visit and comment on others’ ideas, with GirlieOnTheEdge, Denise. The prompt is “MARK”, and here’s where you join the party: Six Sentence Stories
Once, long ago in the Beforetimes, before people were a thing,
Before shields and swords and maidens and hordes of gold and jewels created conquering kingdoms,
Before dragons ruled the land,
A mountain rose out of steaming seas, from ribbons of liquid fire, piling itself upon itself. Continue reading
Superhero Stuff
The challenge? Write a story in 6 sentences, no more & no less, and if you’d like, share your creation or just visit and comment on others’ ideas, with GirlieOnTheEdge, Denise. The prompt is “Marvel”, and here’s where you join the party: Six Sentence Stories
Superhero Stuff
Most superheroes start out simply.
A being of humble origin but fatally flawed,
is robbed of a birthright,
ejected from a home planet,
or altered by science gone wrong. Continue reading
Honoring My Gothic Present
Norwegian Forest Cat
As part of my studies of Gothic fairy tales I offer up this quick write from our Carterhaugh class today today, all in the service of learning and expressing and using NaNoWriMo to focus in on what needs to be. As it is written, so mote it be…
Honoring My Gothic Present
I am the old woman you meet in the woods, dressed in shapeless, comfortable black, salt and pepper hair tucked under the hood of my green, woolen shawl as I follow the deer paths through the darker parts of the Wood. My boots are sturdy, laced over the ankle and meant for hiking, but if you look closely at my chicken legs, you’ll see that my boots are a deep burgundy color. Continue reading
Time Lost
Elbows on bent knees,
Hands dangle between, wings on a gentle-breezed bird.
Butt planted, chilly on Autumnal Earth.
Grass spent, golden and crackling
Under a sky sharp as blue porcelain.
Leaves flicker down from balding trees,
The memories still, cut deep.
Valley 