I think this must have been a pleasant dream. Click on photos to enlarge.
For the WordPress Weekly Photo Prompt: Awakening.
Awakening
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Tag Archives: waking up
Morning Alarm Clock
Waiting for breakfast.
Click on any photo to enlarge all.
Morning Alarm Clock
First the ghoulish yowl of cat.
Then the dogs’ accompanying scat.
The far off whine of the machine
that whines the gardener’s routine.
With creak of valve and scrape of tool,
water streams into the pool.
This water surging from the jet
completes my waking up quartet.
Yolanda’s key turns in the door,
adding one harmony more.
Her music joins the morning’s set
to swell it into a quintet.
What finer way to stir one’s head
on alternate mornings, here in bed?
The prompt is quartet.
Quintessential Morning
okcforgottenman at dawn. jdbphoto
Hate to rain on your beautiful sunrise, but the beauty of the morning sky doesn’t tell the whole story.
https://dutchgoesthephoto.net/2017/04/04/tuesday-photo-challenge-morning/
6 A.M.
A vividly red 6 A.M. glares out from an electric alarm clock on the side table of the bed.
“Carol! Wake up! Do you know what time it is?”
“Not really.”
“Well, maybe if you opened your eyes, you could see the clock!”
“Mmmm. Hmmmm.”
He gives her a gentle swat on the bottom.
“C.mon, get up! I’m going for a shower so I won’t be here to nag at you. You gotta get up now!”
The sound of his bare feet leaving the room. A door opens and shuts. Sound of a shower and an electric razor. Then, he enters the bedroom from the adjoining bathroom, tucking in his shirt.
“Carol! It’s time to get up! You’re running late!”
“What time is it?”
“Open your eyes and you’ll see! C’mon. Open your eyes and here, I’ll help you scooch around and put your feet on the ground. Now sit up. And open your eyes!!”
(gentle snore)
“C’mon. Right now! Open your eyes. If you don’t hold yourself up, I’m gonna let you fall down. So I’m letting loose, Carol. Sit up on your own or you’ll fall down!”
There is a slight and muffled percussion sound as she falls backwards on the bed.
Dammit, Carol. Okay. This is it. I’m tired of your shit. I’m just going to let you stay in bed and miss a day of work without calling in. You’ll lose your job and there goes the Hawaiian vacation!”
“Mmmmm.”
“Brad and Janet will be there, and Chet and Tina. Pina coladas, sunburn, sand in their toes, hula lessons and moonlit walks on the beach–and we’ll both miss it all because you’ll be unemployed and we won’t be able to afford it. Carol! Get the hell out of bed!!! Open your eyes and get up!”
“Mmmmmm. Hmmmmmm.”
OK! That’s it. I’m giving up! I’m going to work now. I’ll stop and get breakfast at Shorty’s on the way. You’ve made your bed and you can lie in it–literally!!”
Sound of a door slamming, car revving and driving away. Carol slides her feet back up on the bed and pulls the covers over her head. Gentle snoring sounds.
Seven O’clock. Phone ringing. Carol reaches out to her bedside table and answers it.
“Hello?”
“Hi Carol.”
“Who is this?”
“This is your mother-in-law, dear. May I speak to Robert?”
“Who?”
“Your husband, dear. My son.”
Carol reaches out beside her, pats the bed.
“He’s not in bed, Roberta. Try calling his cell phone and perhaps he’ll pick up from down below. We had a late night last night and I’m sleeping in.”
“Okay, dear, sorry to disturb you.”
Sound of a phone being put back in the cradle. Almost immediate gentle snores. Twenty miles away, in early morning traffic, the gentle brrrrrrr of a cellphone is heard.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Robert, where are you?”
“I’m on the road, Mom, about to pull into Shorty’s for a fast breakfast. What’s up?”
“You went to breakfast without Carol?”
“No, I’m on my way to work. Carol decided not to go in today.”
Silence from the other end of the phone.
“Mom, are you still there? What did you call me for?”
“Well, dear, I’m just wondering why you are going in to work on a Saturday, and why you didn’t call your dad to call off your golf game if you’ve decided to work instead!”
Sound of brakes screeching as Robert turns off at an exit and drives over the overpass to reverse directions.
(For an earlier response to this same prompt, go HERE.)
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Groupthink.” Write a dialogue between two or three people other than yourself.
Morning Dew and Switcheroo: WordPress Daily Prompt Weds NaPoWriMo
When I’ve Passed A Restless Night
When I’ve passed a restless night,
to once more welcome morning light,
I do not leave a lover’s grasp.
No knitted legs need to unclasp.
What time on waking I can afford
is spent by me, unwinding cord:
the earbud cord around my neck,
my PC power cord from the wreck
of pillows, comforter and sheet
that somehow, now, are at my feet.
My MacBook Air, just by my shoulder
has come unplugged and so is colder
to my touch. It won’t power on.
Then, when plugged in, my poem is gone.
For the month of April, I am marching to the beat of two drummers, NaPoWriMo (National Poetry Writing Month) and the daily WordPress blog. So, for the fun of it, I’m going to try to write a few poems that incorporate both prompts. The first part of the poem (above) meets the NaPoWriMo challenge that springs from the form known as the aubade. These are morning poems, about waking up, dawn and daybreak. Many aubades take the form of lovers’ morning farewells but the topic was left wide open and so I took a different slant on it.
The second part of the poem (below) segues into the WordPress prompt entitled “Switcheroo,” that asks what blogger I would trade places with if I could. I’ve tried to make the two poems work either as single poems or as one longer poem. Tell me what you think. Does this work or do you prefer them as separate poems?
My Kindle lies upon the table,
still spewing words, if it is able,
from the book by Audible
that I heard was laudable;
so I chose it to listen to
knowing words would be but few
before I gave my thoughts to dreams
in short, imaginary schemes.
In sleep, I’ve pulled the ear cord tight.
It disconnected and tales took flight
into the air and so are gone
and my dreams become the song
whispered in my slumbering ear–
all that I dream and hope and fear
coming up to enter thought
revealing to me what I’m not
as surely as what I may be:
a page, a paintbrush and a tree.
And so as I’m unwound from sleep,
I sit up, my date to keep
with that world I’m connected to
with cyber-nails and blogging glue.
Those who find the world absurd
might give pause to read a word
that I wed with more words ‘til
my dreams have finally had their fill
of eating up my conscious life.
Now that I’m no longer wife,
mother, an employee or
the keeper of a traveling store,
if I wish to spend my days
ensconced in a creative haze,
who is there to bother me?
I live alone. My days are free.
I would not trade with Heather Armstrong,
(Dooce.com) or Huffington,
for though more followers would be nice,
(Any blogger would like a slice),
still it is perhaps excess.
I don’t want so much success,
for much as I’d enjoy renown,
as far as being toast of the town–
I will remain just who I am.
I’ll take my blog without the jam!
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 