A Splash of Color

Linked to Cosmic Photo Challenge where Dale offers the theme of “a splash of color”. Here are a couple of photos of flowers splashing color on the green and darkness below.

Also linked to Trent P. McDonald’s The Weekly Smile. What made me smile this past week was that a short poem I wrote long ago was reprinted in Potcake Chapbook 7.

A Splash of Color Mostly Green and Pink and Deeper Red

Sunday Walk 2

There are only two kinds of people in the end: those who say to God, “Thy will be done,” and those to whom God says, in the end, “Thy will be done.” All that are in Hell, choose it.

C.S. Lewis, The Great Divorce, Chapter 9 from The Complete C.S. Lewis Signature Classics, page 506.

I recently heard Crystal Grimes’ song Pink Flamingo. It made me wonder if I could handle seeing all of the pink flamingos I hide behind come to life and fly away.

First Flight

The interviewer wanted to know whether Bird was scared when he jumped out of the nest for the first time.

Bird said, “Technically I didn’t ‘jump’.  I flew.  My wings moved.  Soon the nest was far below me.  I don’t know how it happened. It’s not like jumping. There’s a difference.”

The interviewer wondered, “Really? What’s the difference?”

He clarified, “You see, any monkey can jump out of a nest.  You know as well as I do what will happen.  I’m not going to go there.  But birds, well – how do I put this? We don’t jump. We fly.”


Linked to Carrot Ranch August 13 Flash Fiction Challenge where Charli Mills offers the theme of “first flight” for these 99-word stories.

Watching Me Take a Photo With Suspicion

Stay

I often want bright blooms to stay
But they perhaps are restless too.
There’s more ahead for them to do.
They serve their seeds which go away
Like snowflakes on a winter’s day.
Nor have I stayed long anywhere. 
I might live under skies less fair
Or wander somewhere else and try
To find bright blooms that please my eye
Or serve in ways that show I care.

Linked to Ronovan Writes Décima Poetry Challenge using “stay” as a rhyming word in the a position of the abbaaccddc rhyme pattern for this ten line form with eight syllables per line.

Somme Prairie Nature Preserve

One of my poems has appeared in Potcake Chapbook 7, Murder! – Poems of killings past and present. I am grateful to Robin Helweg-Larsen for accepting it.

From Useful to Useless

I held the pottery in my hands and noticed the crack across the bottom. It would not hold water but perhaps it was still useful.

When I placed it in the donations box I noticed an edge. I picked it up again running my thumb to test the sharpness and drew blood.

While bandaging my thumb I realized it was not safe to donate. After wrapping it I dropped it in the garbage chute and heard in the dumpster below the impact which split it in two.


Linked to GirlieOnTheEdge Six Sentence Story Word Prompt with the challenge word “useful”.

GirlieOnTheEdge Denise Farley's six-sentence-stories icon
GirlieOnTheEdge Denise Farley’s six-sentence-stories icon
Prairie Wildflowers

Collage

The ocean water's not all blue.
The prairie's not all green.
What's in between is what I've seen
And what I trust is true.

Linked to Cosmic Photo Challenge where Dale offers the theme of “collages”.

Also liked to Trent P. McDonald’s The Weekly Smile. The phlox and tiger lilies were at their peak in Vince’s yard so we celebrated the day by watching the butterflies, bees and whatever came by to enjoy his yard which brought smiles.

Atlantic Ocean

Sunday Walk

Keep back nothing. Nothing that you have not given away will ever be really yours. Nothing in you that has not died will ever be raised from the dead. Look for yourself, and you will find in the long run only hatred, loneliness, despair, rage, ruin, and decay. But look for Christ and you will find Him, and with Him everything else thrown in.

C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity, at the very end
Erica Sommer, Prayrer for the Sullen

Lava Hot

When twelve Brett told his aunt that chickens were dinosaurs. She laughed. What a stupid kid.  

Brett’s mind was lava hot, hot enough to melt chaos into understanding.  After reading that chickens were dinosaurs he looked at the hens in the chicken house who’d peck when he reached for the eggs they were sitting on differently.

True, they were smaller.  True, they had feathers.  True, they didn’t really run like Tyrannosaurus Rex.

When seventy another nugget of reality melted in his ever hot lava lamp of understanding. What if his old aunt was right? What if they weren’t dinosaurs?


Linked to Carrot Ranch’s August 6th Flash Fiction Challenge. Charli Mills offers the theme of molten lava, real or metaphoric, for the 99-word stories.

August Blooms