poetry, writing

Rome Has Fallen

Alabaster skin almost translucent in light;

Veiled shadows reveal the rays dancing through.

A soft fragility masks the aged figure;

How has it lasted hundreds, nay, thousands of years.

Unprotected from the elements, time has worn off her details,

How did they carve this beauty before the modern age?

But still she stands, a beacon of strength and beauty,

Amidst the ruins from when Rome did fall.

poetry, writing

Last Laugh

The weather deceived on Florida,

It should be a crisp winter day.

Instead the sun beat down relentlessly,

With only passing clouds providing relief.

The wind picked up as the skies darkened,

But the threat of rain did not come to pass.

The humidity gathered and smothered instead

While Mother Nature had her last laugh.

poetry, writing

Lil’ Beggars

Four little eyes looked up at her begging for treats.

She bent down, “Here you go my sweets!”

They met her with purrs and head punchies

Before snacking away on their munchies.

Then a playful fight and they ran away,

Ready to curl up and dream the night away.


Yep, bad cat poetry…that’s where I am tonight. Enjoy!

poetry, writing

Dreams

A world beyond this, I visit in my dreams;

The fantastic, the amazing, the terrifying…

All these worlds await me in my dreams.

I’ve lived in London, walking down cobbled roads,

Watching chaos and riots, thankfully only in my dreams;

Met him at a pub in Edinburgh, finally,

Saying good bye to a lost future, in my dreams.

Frozen, paralyzed in my bed, time and again,

Unable to scream for help, in my dreams.

Toiling, never-ending problems, ugh!, the worst

I never feel rested when it’s work in my dreams.

But then there are flights of fancy, giggling

Some really good things, too, in my dreams.

My favorite is waking up next to you,

Smiling at me with loving eyes in my dreams.

Who know, maybe dreams can come true?

Until then, I guess I’ll have to see you in my dreams.


Written from a prompt from Lady Jabberwocky: http://ladyjabberwocky.com/2023/01/16/prompt-of-the-week-dream-a-little-dream-2/

poetry, writing

Man V. Nature

The magnificent stone facade cracked and crumbled.

Man’s constructs were no match for nature’s wrath.

Winds and waters erode the mightiest stone,

While seeds infiltrate cement slabs and grow.

The forests take over where homes once stood;

The tides wash away structures along the shore.

Still we build, we must to survive. But, at what cost?

Will nature continue to overpower us,

Or can we find a way to work with nature,

Save each other for our mutual benefit?

poetry, writing

Widow’s Plight

Frantic, wanting to run, to escape, but frozen.

Eyes move rapidly, looking for a way out,

But there is no way without movement.

No restraints are holding her back,

She’s free to go, but the bonds are invisible.

Unable to depart from this place called home.

The ghost of love haunts her, so she stays.

She would be lonely any other place than here,

Despite its aging foundation and walls,

Maintained but oh so familiar for her.

So many signals to find something else,

From him saying it is okay to move on,

But still she stays…likely to her dying day.

writing

Moonlight Dance

Dust and smoke dance in the moonlight,

Swirling in a samba upon the sand.

A beachside bonfire increases the heat,

And they entwine themselves tighter,

Until they appear as one in the flames.

Slowly the fire dies down and dawn arrives.

The dancers fade away with the sunrise,

Hoping to twirl in each other’s arms again.

writing

The Easy Life

Life, on the rocks, hard as can be.

But time wears the rough edges away,

And the stones turn smooth and slick.

Over and over, the waves beat on.

Eventually the rock turns to rubble,

The rubble turns to grainy sand.

The grains continue to wear away,

Until nothing but powder remains.

The water recedes, the winds pick up,

And away blows what once stood strong.

And nothing more stands in the way of life.

…if only we had the time to spare

The time to let our rocks fade away

so life could flow so easily for us too.

writing

Stormy Times

She looked up as the rain shimmered down.

The canopy hung over her but didn’t block the storm.

No matter, she enjoyed getting drenched.

Her hair dripped into ringlets around her face,

Her tongue lapped up the wetness as her only drink.

The tapping of the drops beat out a soothing melody.

The forest fell quiet as the animals sought shelter.

Ahead of her, she could see the surf,

behind her a cocoa-toned trail of puddles.

She walked over to a small beachside shelter

took a seat atop a faded wood table,

and focused on the ocean across the sand.

The waves whipped up as the storm passed through.

She closed her eyes, soaking up the moment.

writing

Movie Time

Christmas movies are back!

Yeah, I know, it’s October, how whack!

But I can’t resist, so on goes the fan.

Out comes the throw, despite my tan.

A fluffy pair of socks to help keep me toasty,

Maybe I’ll even make a marshmallow roasty!

Kitty cats curled up by my knee,

And settled in with a warm cup of tea.

Why do holidays make me smile?

Probably good memories after all this while.