creative writing

Life’s Pearls Décima

You miss so much when you are rushed.
A white dove’s feather softly falls,
As lions flex their golden paws.
A ripened berry’s body blushed,
Before it’s bursting flesh was crushed.
A stem will grow with twists and swirls,
Before a single petal curls.
Perfect flakes of snow melt so fast,
In less time than eclipses last.
Wander free but don’t miss life’s pearls.

Image credit: pixabay.com

In response to Ronovan Writes’ Décima Challenge found here

creative writing

Iceberg’s Tip Décima

The problem with a slow dance is,
It’s flawless – besides when it’s not.
Time heals, forgiveness, forgot.
The dilemma with a trance is,
Giving out infinite chances.
March down a disappointing track,
Waiting for your disguise to crack.
Each final straw, each iceberg’s tip,
Expectations finally slip,
And now there is no waltzing back.

Image credit: pixabay.com

In response to Ronovan Writes’ Décima Challenge found here

creative writing

The Fall Décima

When you journey through memories,
Do you appreciate the ride?
Do you find love or hope or pride?
Do those old times put you at ease?
Or are you caught on choppy seas?
Do you close your denying eyes,
And pray for your boat to capsize?
Do you feel anything at all?
Besides the terrifying fall,
From dreamy fabricated skies.

Image credit: pixabay.com

In response to Ronovan Writes’ Décima Challenge #19 found here

creative writing

Second Prize Décima

They said he was a wise wordsmith,
In with a chance of winning big,
But some questions were hard to twig.
He hadn’t heard of some old myth.
And so he was presented with,
A giant box of styrofoam.
And out he pulled a garden gnome.
Even though it was second prize,
He couldn’t moan about the size,
And couldn’t wait to take him home.

Image credit: pixabay.com

In response to Ronovan Writes’ Haiku Challenge #17 found here

creative writing

Shrinking Décima

Poems are best composed when there’s
No words to capture all your cares.
When there’s no light or ray of hope,
When heading down a downward slope.
That’s when words are the coastguard’s flares,
The scatter of birds, March’s snow,
The bowler’s throw, the whistler’s blow.
Alarm bells cry final warnings,
In dark nights, but darker mornings.
Why do we have to shrink to grow?

In response to Ronovan Writes’ Décima Challenge #16 found here

creative writing

Whispers Décima

Some say we are a puzzling pair.
Some say we are one of a kind;
We’ve a similar state of mind.
It is confusing that you care,
About the thoughts that others share.
Do you think that the grand oak trees
Listen to whispers in the breeze?
No, they stand tall and proud, and live,
They know what they can take and give.
There’s always one who disagrees.

In response to Ronovan Writes’ Décima Challenge #15 found here

creative writing

Empty Nest Décima

Hear the squawking of mother bird,
Chased by the devilish kittens,
Captured in their furry mittens.
Ears pricked. The silence was stirred,
But her pleading was quickly slurred.
Bringing emptiness to mourning.
Her baby bird awoke, yawning,
And longing for the feathered quilt,
Mother’s wings in the nest she built.
The baby sensed a shift dawning.

Image credit: pixabay.com

In response to Ronovan Writes’ Décima Challenge #14 found here

creative writing

Tough Days Ahead Décima

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

creative writing

Writer’s Block Décima

Writer’s block is an artist’s mite;
Tumbleweed blowing in the wind.
The malicious blank canvas grinned,
He cocked his head, and laughed in spite.
Who transmitted this parasite?
I want my thoughts to merge and mesh,
Creating poems filled with flesh.
Who ran away with my ideas?
This has confirmed all of my fears.
I buffer when I press refresh.

In response to Ronovan Writes’ Décima Challenge #12 found here

creative writing

Media Mayhem Décima

Why must the press always surmise?
Listen, please stop speculating.
Twisting words, manipulating.
I always see through your disguise,
You only ever publish lies.
Media steals all the glory,
Marching on your territory.
Selling words for personal gain,
No justice for the names you stain.
Severing my private story.

In response to Ronovan Writes’ Décima Challenge #11 found here