He was a good man.
He was a man who raised his own kids, three girls, and a boy.
And when he was done, he raised one more.
He didn’t have to marry her mom.
He didn’t have to be a good dad to her.
But, see, he knew the pain of being a stepchild from his own childhood.
So, he raised her, his fourth daughter, as his own.
And she was the luckiest little girl in the world.
Thanks, Dad. I really miss you!
The young mermaid surfaced trying to find the light which flashed above. As she did the lightning arched through the skies lighting up the dark clouds. A single bolt flashed and struck the water nearby. She was stunned by the force of electricity flowing through her body.
The swells of the ocean tumbled her closer and closer until she was onshore. Passed out with her dark hair matted, her body rested in the surf. The clouds rolled away and the skies returned to blue.
A young boy, about age 14, found the mermaid entangled in seaweed as he walked along the beach. He unwound the sea grasses wrapped around her teal blue tail and shook her shoulder.
Her eyes fluttered, looking about. Her purple eyes looked into his as she came to. “Thank you,” she whispered to him.
“What should I do now?” he asked. He had never met such a beautiful creature.
“I am okay, but I need to get back into the water.”
He found a way to lift her in his arms and waded into the water with her. When he got waist deep, she was able to float.
She moved out of his arms and swam around him. She stopped in front of him and gently kissed him on the cheek. “You’re cute,” she giggled. “Thanks again!”
With that, she dove back into the ocean and swam away. The boy watched her as her tail fin flipped in the water, until he could no longer see her.
He returned to that beach each time he was in town on vacation as he grew up and would watch the waters in hopes of seeing her again one day.
The mermaid did the same.
Cocoa powder awaits,
Atlantic waves crash.
Sultry warm heat, and
cool tropical drinks, and
not much else in between.
Laughter and fun,
maybe a cookout too.
Kids build castles in the sand.
The surfers out on their boards,
the ladies reclined with their books.
Beach weekend, here we come!
I wish on the pink butterfly outside that all goes well.
They try to make it pleasant, calming colors and soft robes.
The room is dimly lit, not bright and sterile.
But still, it isn’t a fun experience.
Maybe this time no tears fall from being pulled,
tugged and smashed six ways to Sunday.
The imaging engine whirrs aloud as it takes its pictures.
Shifting, changing positions, once more the vise grip takes hold.
Skin stretching, hugging the machine which is causing discomfort.
Four cycles in all, two for each mound of flesh.
Relief comes as the machine finally releases its hold.
Hopefully done for another three years…the wait for results begins.
I should be out walking. Yes, I know, I should.
My arm dangles from the edge of the bed, playing with Chance.
He flops on his side, purring, and begging for belly rubs.
It isn’t raining this morning. I really should be moving.
Chance wraps his paws around my arm, wrestling with me.
Get up, get up, he meows. He wants his treat.
So I stumble out of bed. Find my shorts, bra, and shirt.
Shuffling to the kitchen, reaching for his treats.
Here you go, boy. Good job getting me up.
Socks, shoes, and straighten up the bird’s nest on my head.
I’m going. I’m going. Off for my morning walk.
Thunder claps, disturbing a peaceful Sunday afternoon.
Dark clouds roll in, dashing plans to visit the gardens.
So we open up the shades and watch the lightning dance in the sky.
The cats jump up settling in, protected from the storm.
The thunder quiets down as the heavens open up,
The rain hitting the windows eventually lulls us into a nap.
Time rolls by, and the clouds roll away.
Brightening the skies back to blue, the sun strikes out
and wakes us from our dreamy slumber.
The bright sun above beats down, how hot can it get?
The glass of iced tea sweats, leaving behind a ring of wet.
The birds are silent; the weather is even too warm for them.
The dragonflies are hanging above, each insect they find a gem.
She waters the small garden, the heat makes her shoulders glisten,
The tomatoes perk up and the flowers and herbs brighten.
Being in the shade gives relief to some,
The warmest days are yet to come.
A battle of opposites begins.
Lightness floats all around, encircling the dark.
Darkness settles in, making its stand.
Trading places, the dark pushes back, lightness begins to fade.
The darkness is pierced by the light again.
A stab in darkness’s heart.
The dark pushes back, shattering the light.
A twinkling of light scatters.
The darkness runs toward the light, blocking it once more.
Eclipsing it’s rays and calling in reinforcements.
Darkness gathers again, backlit by the light.
Light streams through the cracks, surviving once more.
The cycle continues, taking up infinite space and time.
Without each other, neither could exist.
Nor could anything else.
Will they ever find their balance?
Gone are the cool early mornings.
Walks are sticky and warm now,
even before the sun rises.
Heat and humidity attack my hair,
turning its strands into damp ringlets
just for stepping outside.
The birds are already active,
singing their morning songs.
The heat doesn’t bother them.
Air conditioning beckons me home, but
I must push on and get back on track,
only one-third the way to my goal.
But man, look at those calves!
Pen to paper, scratch, scratch, scratch. Notes written in haste, important at the time.
Now they no longer make sense. They are just scribbles.
Hands to keyboard, click, clack, click. Emails and documents and meetings on top.
Work spins forward, as does life. But so much time wasted.
Talent and creativity, thrown aside just to meet a deadline. Just deliver on time.
Forcing the workday to end is hard, there is always more to do.
But I need quiet away, a moment to create, to escape, to renew.
Dawn Renee Writes 