Author: Dawn Renee Miller

Lifelong writer of boring things like specs and reqs ready to spread her wings with some creativity.
writing

Pumpkin Hunting

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

She woke to a crisp autumn morning, an unusual day for Florida. Today was the opening of the pumpkin patch out at Hunsader’s. She looked forward to this day, and her hopes for a cool day finally came true.

She tucked a stray curl behind her ear as she organized her camera packing up for the day. She donned her burgundy boots, jeans and a long sleeved shirt, along with her hat, appropriate for falls up north, but suitable for today as well.

She arrived at the farm. The dew on the field was just right for some early shots of the patch. It looked like frost clinging to the round orange gourds covering the field. The sun was still low and bounced around the dew and mist, creating a calming scene. If it were any darker, it might turn eerie.

As the mist and dew evaporated, the field opened to the public. Her boots squished a little in the soft dirt as she walked through the rows. Her hat bounced the rays off her head, offering some shade. A breeze floated over the patch, keeping the air unseasonably cool.

The pumpkins varied in color and size. She couldn’t resist her desire to carve a jack-o-lantern for the upcoming holiday. She always kept hers sweet – kitties in the moon light, a witch flying through the air, or the classic jack-o-lantern zigzag smile. This year, she decided to be a bit more decorative, scroll work with dots, meaning she’d get to work with a drill. But first, she needed the perfectly round and squat pumpkin to make her work of art.

She found tall ones, short ones, even a few fun looking spooky ones, but her hope waned. She wasn’t seeing “it”, that perfect pumpkin. As she approached the far end of the patch, she finally sighted not one, not two, but three perfect pumpkins in staggered sizes and shades of cream to bright orange. She squealed with delight for the pumpkins were just right.

She picked up the two smaller ones, taking them to the stand to pay, then returned to lug the third one, a weighty large pumpkin, and hauled it to the front as well. The farmer running the patch smiled at her collection and offered to take a shot of her. She laughed as she posed like a little kid with her pumpkin finds, then loaded them up in the car and headed home.

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poetry, writing

Elixir

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

Hold my arms, push me against the wall

And stare at me in the moonlight.

Press your body against mine,

share the air between us.

Breathe slowly as your lips meet mine.

And kiss me as if your life depends on it.

Let my love be your elixir.

Take it all from me,

then share your own to restore me,

So we can do it all again.

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writing

The Watch – Part One

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

“Sir, do you need a watch? Sell it to you, cheap!” an old man, slumped on the sidewalk, held out his last prized possession. The silver pocket watch twirled from its chain, dented and well-loved. The man’s eyes cried out for help, but he wouldn’t beg, just offer things to sell to get by.

A sharply dressed man looked down at him. A chill went up his spine as he watched the older man with his watch. He raised his gloved hands to his face, blowing on them to keep them warm. His woolen coat, normally hot on his back even on the coldest days, suddenly felt as thin as silk.

He was a stranger to this town, and felt for the man on the street. He knew he needed to do something, but buying that watch would not help him. A voice in the back of his mind repeated, “The best gift you can give is your time.” He kneeled down, meeting the man on the street eye to eye.

“I have no need for your watch, but I am not familiar with this town. Could you tell me where I might get a good burger?”

The old man smiled and his eyes lit up. “The diner on 5th makes the best burgers in town. Their staff is great; they always give me hot cocoa when I stop by.”

“Would you show me the way?” He stretched out his hand to help the old man up. “I’m Steve by the way.”

The old man stumbled up to his feet. His coat was merely an old quilt, tattered by age and grayed by grime from living on the street. He wrapped it around himself tightly and tottered along down the road. “This way, sonny. Best burger in town. I’m Jon by the way.”

Jon showed Steve to the diner. When they arrived, Jon clapped Steve on the shoulder. “Thanks for the company. Enjoy your burger.” He turned to walk away.

Steve called out, “I could use some company, would you like to join me?” He paused as Jon turned to him. “My treat!”

Jon smiled a little, “I can get myself a hot cocoa.” He looked up at the steamed up windows, knowing the warmth would do him some good. “Sounds good.” Steve opened the door for Jon and let him lead the way.

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writing

Killjoy

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

It started in little innocuous ways.

So small, it was almost imperceptible.

Cards, greeting cards. I loved giving

And getting greeting cards. I still do.

But it wasn’t a thing in his world.

It made me sad, but I no longer bother,

Unless it’s from me for a special holiday.

But I lost some joy with writing them out.

Next up was Christmas, oh, it’s a secular thing.

But I pulled back so much, lost some fun.

Slowly it grew back a bit, and I still love the tree

And decorating, but there is still not as much joy.

Last year, it was our favorite vacation spots…

Suddenly, he didn’t want to watch the sunset

Or go for walks. He didn’t appreciate the

Breakfasts at the B&B either.

So I won’t plan to go to either now.

Why bother, if it doesn’t mean anything anymore?

The fun, the joy, is gone. I miss it.

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writing

Old Oak Tree

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

Graceful limbs stretch out over the grass field beside the lake.

A tapestry of bark and green cover each one as it stretches to the sky.

Shadows cast to the ground below, providing shade and a cool place to rest.

The leaves flutter and shimmy in the breeze lightly blowing in.

The trunk has recovered from Irma’s force, twisted and split,

held together by strapping which it is now growing over.

The branches still droop under the weight of the final summer rains,

and soon, the leaves will fall, covering the drive again as the seasons change.

It graces the lawn, playing host to cardinals, jays, and wrens.

That oak still stands tall, surviving what Mother Nature has thrown at it.

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poetry, writing

Week End!

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

I finally sigh, a sigh of relief,

although it may only be brief.

The week has finally found its end,

Another week is just around the bend

Why does work have to be a thief!

Burnt out brain = bad poetry. Have a relaxing and restful weekend!

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writing

Comfort

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

Curled up, arm out stretch, fist clenched.

The pain, never ending.

His furry little face comes up, checking her out,

as if to say, You okay?

He figures she’s not,

so he finds a little pocket,

against her in her fetal shaped curve.

He starts to purr and

brings her some warmth.

Finally, she relaxes her hand,

soothed by his comfort.

Slowly, she finally drifts to sleep.

Isn’t it amazing when pets know we don’t feel well and try to make us feel better?

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writing

Forward

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

A few years from now,

they meet again in a meadow and smile.

Wild flowers bloom around them.

She’d long forgiven him the past.

Arguments about then were futile,

Unnecessary to dredge up anymore.

Had he forgiven her too?

They knew there was no road back,

That’s where the past resides.

They needed to move forward.

She hoped they could grow

to know each other as they are today.

But now, it was his turn to lead.

Would he show her what he wants her to see,

Or turn and walk away,

leaving her to wonder?

Only time will tell.

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poetry, writing

Autumn is Upon Us

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

Crimson reds, sunset oranges, and golden yellows abound.

The crunch of fallen leaves underfoot, that sound.

Fireplaces soon will billow with soot and smoke,

The time nears to gather with friends and kinfolk.

High school football on Friday nights,

Marching bands playing under the lights,

A chill in the air brings sweater weather,

and an excuse to snuggle closer together.

Let’s enjoy a warm tea and give a cheer,

It’s no wonder I love this time of year!

🍁 Happy Fall Y’all! 🍂

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