When the autumn winds blew, the old rocking chair came to life and creaked a ghostly sound, familiar and comforting.
Through the window she watched the weathered wooden armrest gently come into view and disappear again, like the ebb and flow of her memories.
When she closed her eyes, she’d imagine him sitting there with the Sunday paper on his lap, rocking to the rhythm of her beating heart.
She tolerated the still, summer days knowing the season would soon enough change and the winds would come, bringing with them, her fading memory of him.
Flash Fiction Challenge – Carrot Ranch Literary Community – 99 words, no more, no less.
My current WIP has moved into the drivers seat, and as I am just a passenger on this journey paved in ink, I must follow where it leads. So, again, I’m resurrecting old words that once stopped to play with me.
Not long ago, I typed poetry to a page, I’m not certain where my mistake was made, but it was auto corrected to poet tree. My original intent was lost, and something new began to bloom, the tale of The Poet Tree was born.
I’ll tell you
of a magical place
dance in the
and butterflies fly
with gossamer wings.
It’s been told
and a tree began
the trunk rose
the roots reached
Her branches lifted
toward the sky,
upon each leaf
to those it felt
they sensed a
in softly spoken
with pure and
They felt a
like a ghost
so the story has
began to spill,
Oh, how I long
Words would waltz
neath her branches,
a paper dream
© 2017 Crystal R. Cook
Previous Challenge Posts ~
Day 10 – Choose Them With Care
Day 11 – Playing With Words
Pull a book off your shelf and randomly open it up to any page. The first word or sentence you land on, write from there.
I chose Alice by Christina Henry.
~ Page 57 ~
(it’s day 8, I caught up, then fell behind, still writing)
Poetry is everywhere
* * *
It flows round me and within me, it’s in the air I breathe,
it’s in the shadows that I cast, and in my midnight dreams.
It’s in the tears I won’t let fall, and in the ones I have to weep,
it’s in the honest truths, I do not dare to speak.
It’s hiding in my weakness, it roars within my strength,
it’s in my greatest victories, and in my worst defeats.
It’s in my every heartbeat, it’s where my love resides,
it’s in battles I must fight, it’s where my doubt and faith collide.
It’s there when I lose hope, and when my hope’s renewed,
it tiptoes through my nightmares, it’s in my dreams come true.
It’s in my day to day, my yesterdays and tomorrows,
it’s in my pleasure and my pain, in my happiness and my sorrow.
It’s in my stops and starts, and in the breaking of my heart,
it’s with the thing I sometimes fear, may be hiding in the dark.
It’s part of all my ins and outs, and all my in-betweens,
it’s in everything I imagine, it’s in everything I’ve seen.
It’s in words which I have spoken, and those I’ve left unsaid,
it walks among the living, it whispers with the dead.
It lies beside the monsters, underneath my bed,
it’s everywhere I go, and it’s where I dare not tread.
It’s in what I’ve whispered, it’s in what I’ve spoke,
it’s in promises I’ve kept, and promises I’ve broke.
It’s in everything I do, in everything that shapes me,
it’s in the fabric I am made of, it’s in the things that break me.
It’s in what I’ve hidden, it’s in what I’ve found,
that’s where my poetry hides, that’s where my poetry abounds . . .
~ Previous Challenge Posts ~
Day 1 – How Did You Get here?
Day 2 – We Write Because We Must
Day 3 – Cherita Poem – Metal
Jem Bloomfield on books and faith
Writing Advice From A YA Author Powered By Chocolate And Green Tea
Giving expressions to what's in my heart for the world.
For Sensory Processing Disorder Kiddos and Their Parents
a little bit of poetry and more
Insight and inspiration for writers and readers
The blog is dedicated to the people which care about their goals, dreams , actions including the ones that have paused , slow down or even stopped moving forward.