Finally airbound.
Flights of Fancy
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Day of the Dead
1953
Click on photos to enlarge.
Day of the Dead
It is that spooky time of year when dead folk walk about.
They lasso wild horses to ride, without a doubt.
They leave their earthy prisons and slake their appetites
with dead bread and with other toothsome proffered bites.
Their crimson eyes shine brightly this one night of the year,
as they slake their year-long thirsts for mescal or for beer.
Each year their thoughtful mortals replenish altars nightly,
putting out their favorite brews and foods for them, politely.
They fill town squares with altars that honor friends departed,
revealing that their memories have remained open-hearted.
Candles light their way for them and marigolds form highways
that mark their paths toward friendly altars from their ghostly byways.
Dia de los Muertos is that night that spirits roam,
renewing those past pathways that have led their footsteps home.
If you doubt their coming, view their pathways in the morning
to see how they have visited you, silent, without warning.
Some say it is the field mice that have nibbled on the bread,
but those of faith know that it was their beloved ones instead!
Prompt words today are replenish, prison, crimson, spooky, and politely.
Moss Roses: FOTD, Oct 30, 2022
Day of the Dead Marigolds
For Cee’s FOTD. Photo of Leah’s portion of the altar. The altar isn’t quite finished. The area in the middle of the arch needs to be completed by Stephanie’s fine hand. My niece Stephanie, nephew Ryan and Ryan’s sweetie Leah are visiting. I’ll post photos later.
Aloe Bloom: FOTD, Oct 28, 2022
For Cee’s FOTD.
Food for Thought?
Food for Thought?
Waiting for the words to prompt that thrill of excitation
that produces more words that lead to motivation,
I clutch my loose leaf binder, hoping for a new addition
that will bring another poem to final fruition.
Yet no gleam of insight shines within my brain.
All the words that join the prompt words seem to me inane.
So, though today a profound poem I probably won’t carve,
I don’t work for payment, so at least I will not starve.
Today, prompt words were culled from five different sites. Click on each word to find its site: gleam, payment, produce, motivation and loose leaf.
For CFFC: Catching People Unaware.
Father/Daughter Discourse
Dear Daughter:
Your frenetic new admirer is not my cup of tea,
for even though I told him that he’d have to let you be,
he resorts to tactics like climbing that big tree
to gain visual access to our property.
You, too, must be incisive in telling him to cease
if you’d like his constant efforts to come to a surcease.
For though I am your father, he allots to me no power
but simply remains stubbornly in his leafy bower.
His persistent efforts prove that he is from that faction
that they label OCD, for he shows no reaction
to my constant pleas, so do you agree with me
that it’s necessary to just cut down the tree?
Dear Papa:
Alas, though my new suitor is not your cup of tea,
I find that his flavor is agreeable to me.
I am not your teenage daughter, for I’m almost thirty-three.
So please do not molest him, and do not cut down his tree.
It is a fact, dear parent, I’m of marriageable age.
So cease with your obsession and curb parental rage.
It’s time to cut the apron strings and set your daughter free,
for I prefer another perch to my father’s knee!
Prompt words are frenetic, incisive, faction, allot, and almost.
A Tinder Rebuttal
A Tinder Rebuttal
Stranger conversations may have taken place,
presenting arbitrary details with vehemence and haste.
With insubstantial logic spouted too close to my face,
the slab of beef in front of me was sure to go to waste.
I rued the day I’d made the swipe on Tinder to the right.
I knew that if I answered it would end up in a fight,
but if I was too lenient in pointing out the flaws
in his conspiracy theories, it might be worse, because
one inch given, one foot taken with such crazy sorts of gents,
and so I shoved my plate away and jumped down from the fence,
packed my steak into my go-bag and decided not to linger,
shoving back my chair to leave, I proffered him my finger.
With folks like him, I’d realized, logic is absurd,
so I made my rebuttal without a single word!
Prompt words are stranger, insubstantial, arbitrary, lenient, slab and conversation.
Image by Alessandro Bellone on Unsplash.
Blade and Balm be
Blade and Balm
Here in a crevice near my heart,
the grief I field does not depart.
Lodged in the depths beneath my skin,
it harbors pain trapped tight within.
Lifted from the depths below,
my heart succumbs to thoughts of woe.
Its edges cut like sharpest steel
insisting I recall and feel.
The wild tides tumble me again,
salting my tears with waves of pain.
Its murmurs stir, then rock me calm.
offering me a soothing balm.
Ancestors reach up from the deep
to lull me to a restful sleep.
These bruises that I bear today
are the price that generations pay
for life that harbors treasures, too,
along with sadnesses we rue.
For Wordle 575 the prompts are: grief field skin depths edge salt murmuring bruises ancestors lifted crevice wants
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 