We were asked to provide a shot of our fridge front. Here is is the front as well as the side of mine. Click on any photo to enlarge all.
For the Fridge Front Challenge! Come play along.
Mourning Matins
Lately,
it is nightbirds
who prematurely voice
the matins of my day.
I keep knocking myself
against hard surfaces
and all my wounds
are in the shapes of hearts.
Anyone more emotional than you
might feel my pain.
This caring for you
is not simple anymore.
I arise too early
and it makes the day too long.
Prompt words for today are simplicity, anyone, emotional, matinal and caring. Also, for dVerse Poets and Bird of the Day.
For Granny Shot It’s Bird of the Day Prompt.
For Cee’s FOTD.
photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash. Used with permission.
The Education of a Prodigy
It’s true he was sardonic, which made it rather hard
for him to assimilate in the schoolyard.
In short, he was precocious, advanced beyond his years.
It’s when it came to social skills that he was in arrears.
He couldn’t really bat the ball. He failed at pitch and catching,
and when it came to fielding, he just excelled at scratching.
When other kids made fun of him, he whipped them with his tongue—
a most distressing habit in one who was so young.
His teachers merely shook their heads and gave him up for lost,
for he took instructions poorly, refusing to be bossed.
It wasn’t until college, when he met a certain “Miss”
that his sharpened tongue was rounded by a simple good night kiss.
Surprising how true love can bring an end to lifelong ills.
Now she gives the instructions and he just pays the bills.
Prompt words on this Friday the 13th are sardonic, assimilate, precocious and scratch. Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash. Used with permission.
For Cee’s FOTD
Late Starter
He called his dad a troglodyte, his sisters, basket cases,
although he was not brash enough to do so to their faces.
He felt himself the underdog—blamed for everything.
He felt his wings were clipped, although he dreamed of taking wing.
Someday he would spring the trap and he would show them all.
But until that day, he’d simply hang out at the mall,
checking out the chicks and panhandling when he could.
He knew he could do great things and some day he would,
but no one gave him chances. The Mexicans and Arabs
with their Virgin Marias and their half-moons and their scarabs
were taking all his jobs away. He didn’t even try.
Why should a decent white guy bother to apply?
How dare his dad declare that he has nothing on the ball?
He is kept plenty busy holding up this wall.
When the other wall is built, his life will come together.
He’ll get some fancy job and break the family tether.
Get a real cool crash pad and party with his friends.
He’ll make some just as soon as this foreign invasion ends.
Time enough for school once Trump takes out the trash.
Then he’ll ace his classes and rake in the cash.
He’ll show every idiot who claims he is a bum
that he is the genius. He’ll show them who is dumb!
Those guys who hang out at the mall in every sort of weather?
If we could read their thoughts, they just might be birds of a feather.
Prompt words for the day are troglodyte, brash, underdog, spring. Mall photo by Neel Tailor, used with permission. Other photos by Judy D-B.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 