writing

Angelic Taste

The vampires, the vampires,

They are at it again.

Their blood-thirst never expires,

They want to get under my skin.

Tastes likes it was made by angels,

One snickers as she bites in,

The other one sinks her fang in well,

The pain makes my patience run thin.

One day I will escape from them all,

Set myself free and fly over the wall.

writing

Politics As Usual

Eyes glared at the television,

An exhausted sigh escaped her lips.

We’ve allowed this to happen,

The constant stalemate and bickering.

We as in a collective, accepting less,

Allowing voting by party lines, the split;

No longer caring about right, best, fair.

Rolling eyes, disdain, our power is small,

What’s it going to take to break down the wall?

writing

Treasure Map

Come dig with me; let’s find buried treasure.

We’ll find riches and gold beyond measure.

Underneath swaying palms is where we’ll stay,

And find a faded map to guide us on our way,

Hidden deep in a granite cave full of sand,

Here I hope you find me and hold my hand.

A serene pool glistens holding crabs and fish,

We’ll dive here for pearls and make a wish.

Full of bounty, baubles and treasures await,

It’s just for us. Finding it is our fate.

writing

100

Wagging little tails, yips abound,

Soft friendly purrs, meows and paws too.

Today remember the #BettyWhiteChallenge

Give a little love, a small donation, or time,

help a furry friend find their forever home.

writing

Anxiety

An unsettled feeling hits her in the gut.

Nothing she could do but wait.

Waiting however is the hardest part.

So she walked, and she breathed.

She distracted herself with life.

But her gut screamed at her,

Wouldn’t let her get settled.

Always looking for her next escape,

Her next adventure, her next thing to do.

Keeping her gut off guard,

Knowing it would never be settled,

Not until the time comes, if it ever does

before she sees the silk lining.

writing

Memory Lane

Sunlight flickers through the weeping moss,

The oaks limbs are heavy with overgrowth.

A light breeze floats through the window.

She sticks out her arm, weaving her hand

Through the wind as the car moves on.

Late 80s and early 90s music beckons back to a time,

A time when life was simple. Her mind drifts,

Drifts back to riding with her cousin

Down winding mountain roads, laughing

While talking about boys who stole hearts.

Oh, to be back when life was full of bliss!

writing

Hi-Tea – Part One

Small intimate tables dotted the floor of the cafe with comfortable chairs. The air smelled of madeleines and other sweet treats, and the display case held savories and pastries alike. A sign hung in the window welcoming guests. It was finally opening day.

Sally straightened her apron and tucked a loose curl behind her ear. She’d picked the name “Hi-Tea” for their shop because that’s how her grandmother used to say hello to her, “Hi-ty!” It was something she herself would say upon waking as a small child. She grew out of saying it eventually, but the stories continued of how she’d greet the day from her mom to all who would listen.

She hoped her location on Heavenly Village Way would attract the locals and the tourists alike. It was a prime spot near the gondolas and heavily trafficked, but she knew it could be hard to keep consistent business throughout the year if the locals didn’t also come.

She walked to the front door. Morning was just dawning, and no traffic filled the street yet. It was late Spring, and a chill lingered in the air. She unlocked the door and stepped outside to wipe down the two sets of cafe tables and chairs waiting outside.

She looked up and down the street and spied a lone jogger out on their morning run. She waved hello as they passed by, then turned to go back inside for a little warmth. Her sweater was comfortable, but the morning temperatures were getting to her hands. She rubbed them together for a little warmth as she walked back inside.

“Nervous?” a voice from the corner called out. Her silent business partner, Sam, decided to not be so silent at times. “How about a cup of coffee? I’ll be your first customer.”

She glanced his way and stuck out her tongue, “To be a customer, you’ve got to pay!”

He laughed and retorted, “Oh, I think I bought a lifetime of coffee and pastries, woman. Go get me some!”

She rolled her eyes and headed behind the counter, then prepared him a creamy, frothy cup. She also pulled out a “salmon with everything” savory and set it on a plate. She took both over to the corner where he sat comfortably working away on his own pet project.

As she set it down, their first real customer came in. Sally greeted the customer and provided them a small menu to help with their selections.

The older lady perused the drink selections and walked over to the counter. “May I have an English Breakfast with cream and sugar? I haven’t had one in years.” Her voice had a faded English accent. “Also, do you have any financiers?”

Sally was thrilled. She could finally have someone let her know if she was close with her recipe. “Yes! I do. Please have a seat and I’ll bring everything to you as soon as your tea is brewed. Would you prefer a cup or a pot for one? A pot has two cups.”

“A cup will do, thank you.” the lady responded as she took a seat at one of the small low tables in a comfortable highbacked chair.

Sally went to work behind the counter plating a financier and gathering the supplies for the lady’s tea. She fixed a small plate with sugar and a small creamer, then delivered it to her table. “I’ll be right back with your tea and financier. You’re my first customer!”

She went back to the counter and finished up the tea, then picked up it and the financier, then returned to the table. “Here you go. Enjoy.”

The lady nodded thanks and began to prepare her tea.

Sally hesitated a moment, then turned and returned to behind her counter. She’d envisioned quiet moments like this, but she hadn’t planned for what to do with her time. She started fiddling with the display to make sure everything looked good and filled in the spots emptied by serving the salmon savory and the financier.

“Excuse me.” A quiet voice spoke from behind the counter. Sally almost didn’t hear her, but she saw a figure through the display case and popped up her head.

“Hello?” Sally walked around to see who was speaking. “Can I help you?” As she turned the corner, the figure disappeared. Sally shook her head; was her mind playing a trick on her? It must have been her own reflection.

Sally headed over to the lady in the high-backed chair. Maybe that’s who she heard. “Can I get you anything else?”

The kind lady said no, then asked if she settled up at the counter. Sally nodded yes and made her way back to the counter to close her tab and take payment.

Sally looked at her first customer sweetly. “Was everything okay?”

The lady nodded yes, then commented, “Your financier was delicious by the way. I wouldn’t change a thing!” and she winked at her as she handed Sally a tenner. “Keep the change dear. You’ve got a good setup here. I wish you luck.”

With that, the lady exited the cafe and wandered away.

Sally walked over to Sam sitting in the corner still and wondered out loud, “Did you see a little girl come in then walk out by chance?”

Sam just looked at her and shook his head in a firm no.


writing

Ears

Everything was muffled. Confusion set in.

Her ears, unbelievable pressure mounting.

She raised her hands to cover them,

Like somehow that would relieve the ache.

Her heavy head hit the pillow once more.

Wanting sleep to escape the ills of this world.

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The Goddess

Wisps of lightness escape through her fingers

As she lifts her hands to the sky,

An ethereal light glimmers about her,

As onlookers pause and give a collective sigh.

Her presence brings a brilliant glow,

It shines up above as well as below.

The onlookers hesitate at her power,

Expecting demands they bend to her will.

She sees their fear, and her light dims,

A single tear rolls down her cheek

And falls onto the cobblestone road.

Soon, a diminutive flower sprouts up,

New life full of beauty divine.

A small girl from the crowd steps out,

Just out of reach from her mother.

She looks up and smiles, then wanders over,

As the flowering plants grows.

Her small voice squeals in joy, So Pretty!

The goddess smiles and kneels,

Looking over the child in her tattered dress.

She extends her finger and glowing magic encircles the girl.

Her mother gasps, still fearing the worst,

As the aqua and pink rays spin then fall away.

The child twirls, giddy in her new frock,

Then returns to her mother’s arms.

I mean you no harm, only to help.

Will you let me stay?

The crowd mumbles among themselves

While the goddess looks at them behind pleading violet eyes.

Her shoulders soften and her raven hair settles on her shoulders.

A stocky man steps forward and nods,

All are welcome who mean no harm.

Now, please, join us for some mead!

The goddess smiles and follows his lead

Leaving behind a trail of green grasses

And beautiful flowers in her wake.

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Omicron means nothing

Oh, to be mask free once again,

to see another smiling face

But now we have to step up our game

KN95s we need to embrace.

In schools, as work, shopping too,

All this to keep ourselves safe,

It’s what we must do.

This omicron variant really does chafe.

So we do what we must to keep it at bay.

Will Covid really never go fully away?