Curling up against his furry little back;
He gives off so much warmth.
His quiet purr vibrates against me,
Melting away my stress.
He suddenly stands up,
then flops over to his side
and rolls on his back,
Showing me belly.
He wraps his paws
around my free arm,
play wrestling as I give him pets.
Finally, he settles down once more,
Drifting off to dream,
And I follow shortly there after.
Silence. But not peace.
Maddening silence.
Frozen, no movement.
Sitting there, hours on end.
No freedom. No rest. But silence.
Should they disturb her? Let her be?
It’s been weeks. Gaunt in the face,
She barely eats.
30 pounds gone in 4 weeks.
She barely sleeps.
None of this is normal.
She spends hours circling the block,
She walks claiming it clears her mind.
Silence. More silence.
They can no longer stand it.
The strings are twisted too taut.
Finally, the explosion.
Screaming, yelling, stomping, slamming doors.
Targeted at her father, he fires back.
But they both know, they aren’t yelling at each other.
Finally calmness returns after the hoarse voices and red eyes.
The recovery begins.
The chrysalis breaks open. A small head emerges. She looks about, amazed by the new world before her.
Slowly, she works her way out of the safety of her cocoon. She preens and shakes and shivers in the open air.
Gently, she beings to spread her iridescent wings. Her colors are unique and magical, shades of pink and purple and shimmering pearlescent white.
Softly, the wind blows as she stretches out and takes flight. The light strikes her wings as she begins to soar and flutter. She sparkles in the morning sun. A new stage of her life begins.
Happy birthday, little one. Happy birthday indeed!
I see it in my mind, our little place away from the hustle of any big city.
It’s quiet here, especially at night when we look up to the stars from the small firepit you built by hand. I love sitting in our Adirondack chairs, watching the skies, as you hold my hand. Bundled in light sweaters, we sit in awe of how small we really are and how large the world truly is. We sit in awe of how we found each other once again in this big world.
When we walk back in, the fireplace greets us with warmth and dancing light. Our home is cozy and warm. A fluffy throw and a handmade quilt are strewn about our living room where we cuddle and relax. You love it when I walk out of the bedroom wrapped in that quilt, and nothing else, then nuzzle in next to you as we spend the day together not doing much of anything at all.
One wall is adorned with a large piece of aged wood, a fallen branch from a tree we found together. We had so much fun trying to get it home; it almost didn’t make it, it was bigger than the car, even with the back seats down. We had to leave the trunk open and protect it with blankets, hoping the gate wouldn’t shut down and snap it all the way home.
The dining room is on the other side; the large wooden table sits there, space for us and the girls and some more family should they ever come to visit. One side is a bench, and wood chairs with a simple X back surround the rest of the table. We put little candles along the center and we light them during our Saturday night dinners. I love looking into your eyes as the flames flickers and they sparkle.
On those nights, inevitably you lead me down the hall. Sometimes you stop and push me to the wall, looking at me intently and knowing I’m yours. Other nights are more gentle and sweet. You always seem to know what to do, and I still follow your lead, except on the rare occasions I decide to take control. Oh, you love those nights in our bed in the room down the hall, us wrapped up in our sheets, pillows askew, feet entwined.
But tonight, when we come in, we are greeted by two smiling faces, lit up by phone screens. I love when they visit. I wish I had given them to you, but grateful every day she did. I head to our little kitchen and smile as I hear their chuckles as you settle in and catch up on their lives. It warms my heart.
Their room has two twin beds and is across from the guest bath. It’s a simple room, but I hope they like it. Perhaps one day they’ll help me redecorate it to their own liking, I muse to myself. Aw, who am I kidding, we’ll have to give one the other spare room one day and split them up, it won’t be soon before one brings home a boyfriend, maybe a husband, or, gulp, maybe grandkids!
I slice a few pieces of homemade chocolate cake and plate them up, then return to the living room. You told me chocolate bribes work well; I just hope they appreciate it. I settle in on the side chair as you put on a new remake of another 80s movie to watch for the evening. The girls groan for a moment, but settle in and dig in to the chocolate cake. We look at each other and chuckle.
The flavors of fall on the stove,
Cinnamon, nutmeg and clove,
Apples bubble in the sauce;
Their aromas fill our house.
Soon it will be time to bake
Biscuits when we wake,
Apple butter to spread about,
That’s a breakfast to make me shout,
Yum!
Softly, she mews, longing for attention.
She only seeks a momentary connection,
then she is back off to stalk her brother.
She sneaks up to the chaise;
His back is turned, perched,
Watching squirrels and birds at play.
His ear twitches as she nears,
He can hear her closing in,
But he doesn’t react.
Instead, he settles in more,
But leaves her space.
She jumps, he looks her way.
Softly she lands and
they paw at each other a moment.
Then she turns, now aware of
The heron outside, preening.
She settles in next to brother
They both begin to chatter,
Ready for the hunt.
Crispness in the air greets us this beautiful fall morning.
Throwing open the windows,
the house fills with the freshness of outside.
A kind of peace and serenity settles in my soul
for today I know where I am and can face the day ahead.
A rhythm establishes as the birds sing outside.
The kitchen seems to almost clean itself,
before I settle into the workday before me.
Even when chaos breaks, which it inevitably does,
I take a moment and breath it in,
that fresh air still coming in,
and relax my neck and back as we forge ahead.
Peace and serenity found me this busy day,
I hope they find me many more times
in the coming days and weeks to come.
Flames dance in the night, the smell of campfire fills their noses. Sitting in their chairs, they relax enjoying the cool air. The hoot of a great horned owl echoes through the trees, while the occasional acorn falls from the oak trees above them.
One smacks her on the top of her head and she grimaces. A rustle from the brush near by followed by the crack of twigs under foot. They look up, surprised. They hadn’t heard a soul for hours.
She turns and looks behind her after noticing her friend’s eyes grow wide. As she turns, some wild animal runs into the safety of the forest.
She looks back at her friend. “What did you see?”
Her friend is frozen stiff, unable to respond. Her eyes are still fixed on the spot behind her.
Slowly she stands from her seat, her mug in her hand and turns. The cup falls from her grasp and drops, clanging to the ground, spilling its contents. Her mouth falls open as she’s face to face with a figure in the shadow, her shadow.
Its eyes stare at her piercingly. An evil grin spreads across its face as it approaches. As it nears, she moves, allowing the firelight to light its face. It doesn’t flinch from the light. The creature isn’t nearly as frightening as she thought it would be; she pauses, mesmerized.
Behind her, her friend begins screaming uncontrollably, but she doesn’t move any further. As it nears her, she begins to recognize masculine features, familiar, through its paled translucent skin. It says her name, somehow knowing it, or perhaps he has entranced her with a spell.
Her fear dissipates as she almost longs for him to come closer while her heart beats wildly. She shakes in anticipation. Her eyes break from his and float up to the sky. Her friend runs off into the forest. She arches back her neck and stares to the full moon above. Her collarbone and the crook of her neck glow in the moon’s rays.
He bites, she exhales. The stars and moon are surrounded by a mystical glow as the world begins to spin. He feasts. She awakes.
Inspired by a writing prompt from Lady Jabberwocky: https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/101036891/posts/3610967389
Do you remember laying there,
Staring up at the stars,
Looking into infinity?
It was a moment of neverending dreams,
Feeling each other’s warmth
as the heat of the day faded away.
Cuddling close, understanding,
Nothing remains the same,
But hoping to stay in that moment forever,
Because at that moment, life was perfect.
Let’s do that again someday.
Biting my tongue which lightly touches my lips,
I sit, concentrating, paintbrush in hand.
My faces skews up to almost a scowl,
really, it isn’t pretty to see.
The strokes do not come easy,
uncertainty clouds my mind, shakes my fingers.
I don’t know why I get this way,
I look around at the other pottery painters,
they laugh, talking with their friends.
For me however, I need tunnel vision,
I need to focus on what I do.
Art, this art, makes me walk away from my work,
makes me look elsewhere, but it is hard.
I see my perfectionist trying to come out.
Don’t color outside the lines!
Did I get the right paints?
Will this turn out good enough to give?
Straighten up that painted edge,
careful, careful, CAREFUL!
I know, if I’d just relax, let go a little,
it will turn out better than how I’m doing now.
I put the piece down, then rinse the brush.
I pause, and I breathe. I relax my face,
unclench my jaw and realize I’ve bit my tongue.
I accept where I am, and move on.
The piece was really done, do any more
and I’ll really mess it up. STOP.
Dawn Renee Writes 