In the farm

A second post in response to Frank’s Tuesday Photo Challenge – This time a few farm bird.


There once was a bird on a tree
with disdain at me she did see
‘It’s lunch time dude
Staring is rude
So stop pointing your camera at me.’


Two birds of healthy stock
Primped for the catwalk
Goose boasted she was fair
Hen shook her colourful hair
While farmer went to fetch his chopping block.


I once met a family of geese
whose honking would never cease
All day they would scamper
The quiet they would hamper
Until they were locked up for the sake of world peace.

To catch a falling star

They said it was wise to catch a falling star and keep it in my pocket for a rainy day,
in case I ever need its brightness to guide me on some dark dreary way.

But she sparkled so brilliant, beautiful and hot, that I could not bear to put her away.

Today I laugh with mirt and joy, and revel in life’s fragrant bouquet,
knowing that if that dark day were to come, today’s memories would disperse the grey.

In response to Sonya’s Three Line Tales, Week 85 challenge based on a photo by Matt Palmer via Unsplash


You take a fish out of water and watch it floundering in death’s throes.

Then you kick it, say stand up, your fortunate to be beside me, what I say goes.

The vows promised for better or for worse; I’ve seen the worse, it’s time to let go for the better I suppose.

In response to Sonya’s Three Line Tales, Week 65
Photo prompt by Clay Knight via Unsplash



Awake my little ones
Stretch your wings
Shimmer with the thrill of raging adrenaline
Today is the day you accomplish many things

Greet the sun
Challenge his blazing
The world is your playground
Your boardroom
Yours for the taking


In response to Frank’s Tuesday Photo Challenge – Morning

A consuming love

I fell in love with her curves

the proud sweep of her head

the arc of her spine

beautiful to touch

As she walks in gentle waves

my hungry eyes staring

travel over her body

some narrow

some wide

strong yet soft



just delicious

Tomorrow on my platter

I’m an all-consuming lover



Posted in response to Frank’s Tuesday Photo Challenge – Curve


Howling out at the moon
That’s what I’ll be doing soon
When my son is out of here
Off to make his own career
Empty nest is all that’s left
Yet I know its for the best
Even if it rips my heart
Having to live apart
Loving him means letting go
Got to go with destiny’s flow
I wish him well
I wish him flight
I wish him wisdom
I wish him light
I’ll watch him leave with so much pride
His father standing me beside
Together we created
Together we let go
He’ll make us proud
That much we know
The excitement to soar is in his eyes now
Of that I’m certain even though I don’t know how


Linda’s Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “how”, and since she did ask us to ‘Enjoy’ I decided to try something different and write a poem. Being a stream, with only pauses to think up silly rhyming words, its a bit corny, but I did have fun. And how!
Thanks Linda.

Mom, don’t…

Don’t call me baby
Not in front of my friends
I’m all grown up
I’m almost ten

Knock on my door
Before you come in
Don’t treat me like a kid
I’m already a teen

I have an opinion
You can’t just make plans
In a year I’m off to college
You need to treat me like a man

I smile through the phases
I’ll try I say, maybe
No way to convince him
That I am not crazy
Boy or man
Eight or eighty
In my mommy eyes
He’s always my Baby

Another good morning

Chores are done and the kid off to school
I sit down with hot coffee my mind to cool
But the sip freezes at the unused plate
I wonder if perhaps it isn’t too late
Once again the familiar trepidation
I push open her door with anxious hesitation
Step in and softly whisper out, “mum?”

I keep on staring feeling a light pain in my chest
Watch for the rhythmic rise and fall of her breast
Wait for the murmuring cadence of her snore
My heart at ease I step out the door
The aroma of coffee does once more beckon
But first I send a quick thank up to heaven



I was not aware
is no excuse
A claim of ignorance
is no recuse
left me alone
were late coming home

Be there when I return
was my simple entreaty
You thought I was being unreasonable
selfish and silly
Were you that bad a mother
or was I not worth the forfeit
that you could not tell
a tantrum from an appeal?

Did he do something?
I really don’t know
Him I can forgive
but you were my own
From you I expected
protection and care
When his hands were on my body
All I could think was that you were not there

This I remember
This I can say
The scars that run deepest
Weren’t those he gave
were my own
should have known