Category: writing

writing

Fall Like Conditions

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

A cool breeze tousled her short brown hair. A smile came across her face like the fresh air from the change of scenery. Soon, fall would arrive. It was her favorite season. She had escaped the sweltering heat of summer for this break, knowing it would only last a week, and then it would be a while until she could enjoy the crisp weather back home.

Some of the aspen and maple leaves were already changing out West. She hadn’t seen true seasons in ages, but the sprinkling of golds and bright reds reminded her of Autumn’s beauty. She inhaled the smell of pine, another reminder of the coming changes.

Evenings, a fire pit beckoned her to approach and warm herself in the twilight. She donned her father’s thermal; her mother gave it to her over a decade ago. It was her favorite way to stay warm on cool evenings and perfect for the weather that evening. She took a seat in one of the Adirondack chairs and rested her feet on the edge of the fire pit.

A nearby aspen’s leaves shimmered and quaked by the firelight, mesmerizing her for a while. A memory of youth, cable knit sweaters in fall colors and jeans, passed through her mind. She liked the cooler weather; the clothing helped to hide her flaws and calmed her. It was a time she felt more confident, more flirty and free. Her smile widened; she wished she could capture those feelings in a bottle and tap them at any time.

Slowly the chill set in and it became time to seek out a warmer spot. She headed back to the cabin, leaving the curtain open to keep watching the scene outside, while bundled up next to a fire and warmer surroundings inside. She’d like to spend more time in these surroundings and enjoy more of the fall-like weather. Maybe one day she will.

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writing

One of Those Days

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

Disheveled. Her shirt soaked through

From a Sprite Zero shower at lunch,

fizz went everywhere.

Her glasses, precariously perched

atop her messed up hair.

From her left big toe, her shoe dangled

Moving as she shook her foot.

The right foot firmly on the ground, bare,

That shoe rolled over, upside down but close by.

Absentmindedly, she played with her pen,

Drumming and clicking it, as she tried to

Focus on the task at hand.

Voices around, constantly on phones.

Too much chatter distracts.

She misses her headset, left at home,

Among the piles of paperwork and junk.

Right now, she’s a mess, tired,

Unsettled, needing some permanent change.

One day, she’ll get it all straight…

She’ll have another moment, she knows.

It’s getting to be that time again.

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writing

Dimmed….

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

Ever get that feeling that nothing is flowing, nothing can come out of your mind? All creativity is trapped in your brain and the only bits that come out do not make much sense?

I thought it was all because I was exhausted, working too much at my paying job over the past few months. So, I took a break from that and it helped a few days. But I’ve back at my normal load again, and the block is back.

Exhaustion set back in and I know it is all mental. I look over things I put together in the past and see the sources of my inspiration, but now I’m trying to find just a glimmer of that, a small spark to start me on my way again. It escapes me, like trying to hold onto time.

Thanks for continuing to read what comes out of this brain. I’ll keep working on it; hopefully that spark will be back soon.

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travel, writing

Iceland

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

Let’s flee far away to Iceland,

Just you and me.

Let’s hideaway from the world,

Let’s go play.

Let us soak in the hot springs,

You’d like that, right?

And hike and journey around

Both in the day and night.

I bet the stars are amazing,

So far away,

I would love to see them in your eyes,

Even for just a day.

A land of a thousand dreams, ice and

Fields of green.

Let’s make a plan for you and me

To get there some day.

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writing

Grounded

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

Pulling on my soul, wondering where it wants me to go.

This life is not my own; voluntarily shared with another;

A third pull, still not my own, but owed for giving me life.

Chained here, unable to move, unable to fly free.

Obligations are good and necessary.

Responsibility makes us feel needed.

But still, to soar away,

finding life anew,

It calls to me.

One day, I will answer that call.

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writing

Dark

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

Drip, drip, drip. The last drop of blood falls to the floor, splashing in the puddle it made below. The heart stops and hardens, darker than the darkest coal on earth, harder than it was in life. The chest collapses; the last breath of air wheezing. It sinks in, adding pressure to that cold, dark heart.

The pressure grows the longer it goes. All of the light which once was there collapses inward. The heart compresses more as time and the world takes its toll. Lost forever, or so it seems. Time is forgotten. Lives buried over and over. Eons pass.

Then one day, shaking of the ground, and shattering of the rocks covering this age, comes to the land. Explosions spew forth, releasing dirt and rubble into the air. Sparkling light emerges, dancing in the destruction left behind. There we find the diamond in the rough.

A little something different for me. What do you think?

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poetry, writing

Voice

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

A voice stands out

Among all the rest.

The cacophony fades away.

Your voice, your voice…

there is something familiar

in your voice.

I listen with intent,

seeking for hidden messages.

Is it your voice I hear?

Speak softly in my ear,

draw me in closer,

Share with me your world.

Reveal,

is it you I hear?

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poetry, writing

Home

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

When I’m home, finally home,

I will install those curved glass shelves,

the shelves I opened that tragic Christmas,

Just weeks after Dad passed away.

He bought them for me when I found home.

I’m not there yet, all these years later.

When I’m home, finally home,

I will hang that glass art I bought,

The Frank Lloyd Wright inspired piece,

The one that reminds me of home.

I’m not there yet, it doesn’t belong here.

When I’m home, finally home,

I will smile with delight, spin in the halls,

and breathe in fresh air from outside.

I will see the seasons change and feel love.

I’m not there yet, but one day I will.

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poetry, writing

Will You?

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

Will you open your book to me,

Read to me every word of every page?

Will you tell me your stories,

Your triumphs and your tragedies?

Will you share with me your thoughts,

Your biases, peeves, and beliefs?

Will you show me your scars,

So I may kiss away any remaining pain?

Will you reveal your emotions,

Letting me catch your tears,

And wipe away the trails they leave?

And revel in your smile

As you share your joys too?

Will you let me in one day,

Show me all you have to reveal?

I truly hope you do.

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poetry, writing

Anissa

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

Inspired by a writing prompt from Lady Jabberwocky.

She was cute and sweet,

Always ready to run and play.

Never one to lay at my feet,

But Anissa knew how to stay.

Her coat was pure white

Unusual for a husky I’d say.

And goodness, was she ever so bright,

And beautiful in every way.

I never thought I was a dog person,

Until I had to give her away.

I love animals, I am certain,

I think of her to this very day.

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