I remember when I was told:
“Do trust the eyes but not the smile,
When he leads you down the aisle”.
Those words were worth their weight in gold,
Smooth to the touch but mighty cold.
It sent a shiver down my spine,
Even though all appeared fine.
His smile was pure but not his eyes,
They whispered I should compromise,
Our futures would never align.
In response to Ronovan Writes’ Décima Challenge #56 found here
Lion cub yawns,
Youth lessens his roar.
Panda cub rolls,
Fluff cushioning his fall.
Tiger cub prowls,
Stripes masking his figure.
Bear cub wails,
When man pulls the trigger.
In response to the third “Personal Universe Deck” prompt from NaPoWriMo.net
I absolutely adored creating the list of 100 words and during the process learned a lot about myself. The random word generated from my list was “cub”.
Fun fact: other words from my list include “forest”, “bridge”, “coffee” and “blanket”.
Vibrance is scarce,
Kitten heels splash puddles,
Life is dull.
Until we stepped into the club.
Horns blaring, beat thumping,
Spirited people swing and sway.
Back on the road,
Streetlights glare and shuffle,
Breathing colours into shapes.
I change perspective,
I am inquisitive.
Inspired by the movement of shapes and brilliant colours in the animated version of “Seductive Fantasy” by Sun Ra and his Arkestra.
In response to the first “seeing the world in a new way” prompt from NaPoWriMo.net
I vow from this day,
To always find a way,
Through life’s obstructions.
With no interruptions.
To see them as the thrills.
Like cyclic, rolling hills.
I promise to respect and trust,
To never let our love rust.
When I look into your eyes,
Sparkling lapis lazulis,
There is an open door I see,
To which I say “open sesame”.
I’ll always stay true.
Honey, I love you.
Image credit: pixabay.com
In response to the Paint Chip Poetry Prompt Challenge #34 found here
Whip your hair around.
Don’t trip- as you lose focus,
Racing for the door.
In response to Ronovan Writes’ Haiku Challenge #319 found here
A heavy heart plated with lead.
When bad days turn to lousy weeks.
When sleeves wipe across sodden cheeks,
You don’t know how to help, instead,
Belittle me to get ahead.
You look down at me, this is true.
Uncultivated fields grew,
The hierarchy’s nourishment.
With too little encouragement,
The days are tough to saunter through.
In response to Ronovan Writes’ Décima Challenge #13 found here
A teddy bear’s view,
From the shelf above the bed,
Is of dusty frames,
And other idle trinkets.
Undisturbed, estranged, and still.
In response to dVerse’s Imaging Prompt found here