Showing posts with label cold. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cold. Show all posts
Sunday, December 4, 2011
MAGPIE/ Prompt #94
Lunch/ George Tooker/ 1964
AN INSPIRATION for this week's Magpie Tales from Tess Kincaid.
SAY SOMETHING
Looking for a cuppa Joe,
I came across a resistant morning.
The gush of the weather
drove me indoors.
Neon flashed: EATS.
I made myself diaphanous,
the better to pick and choose
floating wisdom.
My sixth sense tingled
from sundry communiques.
Under my breath I commanded,
chew that last crumb,
brush a bitten lip,
wonder about tonight's
Blue Plate Special.
Are you lonely today?
Say something to me.
The coffee's cold,
no time for a refill.
The weather has changed,
look out the window.
You don't even know.
copyright/ all rights reserved/ 2011
http://www.minblu.blogspot.com
http://twitter.com/lynxny
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Time To Go...
TIME TO GO
Winter cramps my hands,
a wind blows in my bones.
Under a mound of snow
the dead lie packed in eternity.
A rubbish of leaves
scatter in a frozen mirage,
tossing in an endless
promise of dawn.
I try waving a wand
like a mad Merlin,
casting a spell
to change strands of icicles
into a budding bough.
Still, the cold day primps
and struts like an aging whore,
full of bravado,
as if we weren't praying
for her to call it a day.
copyright/all rights reserved/ 2011
http://www.minblu.blogspot.com/
http://twitter.com/lynxny
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Prompt #1/ Magpie...

Photo from willow/ life at willow manor
THANK YOU WILLOW, for the invitation to join your Magpie Tales. Always looking for inspiration...what could be better than this mass creativity! Please continue to drop your ideas like crumbs in the forest...I'll follow you anywhere!
SECRETS
I poured my whispers
into the dim luster of the pitcher,
my lips almost kissing the rim.
The cold taste of pewter
on my tongue,
seemed like a little bite.
The game I played
spoke only secrets
into the vessel.
When I looked within
I saw a tiny storm
picking up speed,
and made haste
to tell more of my tale.
The pitcher gathered my words,
and entwined them
with the pale tulips
leaning on the edge.
c copyright 2010/ all rights reserved
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