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

The Vows

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

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

Left Behind

As we approach the end,
We become you and I.
We stood together once, but now,
You go your way, I’ll go mine.
I can’t look forwards,
Whereas you don’t look back.
You impulsively march onwards,
While I still wonder what to pack.
With steep mountains ahead,
I recoil, so afraid.
No sight of you in the distance,
I wish you could have stayed.
I need to be held tighter,
For longer, forever.
Even so, I wish you well,
With your courageous endeavour.
I still feel left behind,
Alone, in apprehension.
Until I find my own helm,
I’ll wade through this suspension.

Anxious thoughts tickle you into a state of paralysis. Remind yourself to take only small steps forwards.

creative writing

Career? No idea!

When I consider my dream career,
I sink into a huge black hole.
My ideas are as abundant as saffron.
I find no certainty in my soul.

I lack the bravery of a lion heart,
I can’t do public speaking.
I’ll never have a saxophone solo,
As I’m not attention seeking.

All I know is I want to feel valued,
Like the elephant’s ivory.
I will set myself a goal:
By spring, I’ll know who I want to be.

In response to the Paint Chip Poetry Prompt #22 found here

creative writing

Worth Waiting For

We are parched of hope.
Two tulips in spring.
Lost in a field of poppies,
So wild, and unforgiving.

I falter, I wither,
In emotional turmoil.
I pine for your company,
Though anchored to the soil.

Where’s my refuge, my nursery?
I’m a solitary flower,
Come and quench my thirst,
With all the love I can devour.

I seek hope by the water,
Clear as a looking glass,
It reflects the damage of our parting.
When will this menace pass?

Oh, won’t you come and find me?
My strength, you can restore.
Let your touch console me.
You are still worth waiting for.

In response to the Paint Chip Poetry Prompt #21 found here

creative writing

Tearful Raindrops

A gentle raindrop falls on my flushed cheek. At last, a cooling air to refresh this arid atmosphere. More water scatters, creating a pattern of dots on the patio. Each droplet fills the gaps.

My breathing slows as I immerse myself in this feeling of relief. My eyelids release a tear, which my chin catches briefly before it washes away.

The light pattering of rain gradually quickens in pace, as the droplets shatter against the conservatory roof, creating the sound of a tabla drum.

To follow, a downpour.

In response to Weekend Writing Prompt #158 found here

creative writing

Wand’ring Eye Décima

You took a second glance. I could
Forgive you for a wand’ring eye.
As long as you do not deny,
And just assume I’ve understood,
Given a choice, I know you would
Allow that longing, leering stare
To ricochet back to me where
It will be reciprocated.
Besides, I’ve often debated
To gaze, myself. It’s only fair.

In response to Ronovan Writes Décima Poetry Challenge Prompt No. 6 found here