Click on photos to enlarge.
These are all photos that I was going to do something with but didn’t. They are, however, favorites lurking around my too-full desktop, so here they are for you to deal with! I won’t explain them here but if you have questions, ask.
these are the remains of two other bouquets I’ve had for 11 days. I combined them to make a new bouquet. Good old mums and Gazanias. The sunflowers and roses have all expired.
For Cee’s FOTD
Procrastination
The imminent future seems iffy at best.
The door to tomorrow reveals a dark test.
Have we rationed our resources, saved for tomorrow?
Will deviations from reason cause future sorrow?
Spatially crowded, our cities all choke
in the fumes of their progress—nature’s cruel joke.
We write words like ECOLOGY large, in italics,
hope it will protect like the arms of a calyx,
think it will create a healing reaction,
and yet it will not, ’til we put it in action.
Today’s prompt words from six different sites are imminent, door, spatial, ration, deviation and italics.
I have been going through three big cartons that among them contain every letter anyone has ever written to me in my life and even a number of my own that my mother saved as I was traveling around the world in my younger wilder years. In the very bottom of one box, I found a card I made for my mother when I was six years old with the very first poem I ever wrote on it. It’s pretty beaten up but Forgottenman insists I should share it here. I’m including photos of the different pages. The cover is a doily with three dimensional flowers on it but consider that it has been rattling around in my mother’s top junk drawer or in a box with a ton of other paper things for 69 years, so its condition reflects this. Here it is. Click on each photo to enlarge and read the poem:
What is the very earliest example of your writing? Wanna share with us? If so, please link in comments below:
For Cee’s FOTD
I unfortunately didn’t take photos of most of the Christmas ornament devastation described in the below poem, except for the one unfortunate angel found in the yard today, so I will make do with more of today’s latest. The pieces of the cushion shown , now collected, were spread over the entire lawn and patio. My day’s exercise was collecting them all and stuffing them back into their cushion, then throwing it away. Luckily the garbage had not been collected so I unstuffed a bit for photo purposes. She also chewed the ties off most of the chair cushions in the garden and the corner off the cushion for the lounge chair.The bedroom duvet is my newest. This is a very recent thing, destroying bedding. Trying to decide what to do. To be fair to Coco, I think most of this devastation is created by Zoe. Pasiano says it is because she’s the smallest and trying to prove her moxie. In that case, she has succeeded.
Bad Holiday Attitudes
My energetic puppies are meddlesome at best.
They seek to alter their milieu with destructive zest.
They create a fizzy ambience on patio and lawn
by spreading lawn chair cushion stuffing all hither and yon.
They parade my Christmas banner throughout my lower yard,
sowing its bits and shreds between the onions and the chard.
No matter at what altitude we hang the decorations,
they seem able to reach them to appease their mastications.
They shred what ornaments they find on tabletop and trees.
climbing up and leaping at whatever they can seize.
A dismembered Santa Claus lies nestled in the hay
where once slept baby Jesus, who’s securely tucked away
beneath the new poinsettia, sadly unidentifiable.
His restoration is, I fear, now totally unviable.
So, unless my naughty canine friends speed up their maturations,
Next year I think that I’ll attempt way fewer decorations.
Prompt words today are fizzy, meddlesome, altitude, milieu, onion and banner.
Sometimes flowers are the stars, at other times the supporting cast. This view is from the garden of a friend’s residence in Ajijic.
For Cee’s FOTD
Costume Check
Let me stand here for a moment hidden in the shade,
for my tank top strap is broken right by my shoulder blade.
I’ll shuffle off to mend it when the band starts up again,
but will stand here nearly silent as a statue until then.
My arms are wrapped around me, holding things in place,
for with one side that’s set free, I’m not ready to face
the folks up in the grandstand staring down at me.
Their half-time entertainment I do not want to be!
I’m a living manifestation of how things fall apart,
for the garment that once hugged my frame now hangs below my heart.
The breeze blows yellow pollen downward from the trees
to coat my arms and shoulders and makes me want to sneeze.
Oh that I’d brought the handy shawl Mom thought that I should bring,
I’d now be in the powder room, fixing everything.
Instead, I stand here cross-armed wishing eyes could be averted
so their perusals of my chest could thereby be diverted.
Prompts for The Sunday Whirl Wordle are: shoulder powdery wraps broken shuffle blade stand moment again nearly silence. Image by Racool on Freepix.
Click on photos to enlarge.
For Sunday Stills Mostly Color: Gray and White, the prompt asked for mainly shots of white with gray, but with some color okay. Once again, I got a bit carried away
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 