Did I keep up?
Mostly. I missed two.
Prompt #28 Write a Sestina &
Prompt #29 Never (Blank) Fill in the blank
Although I can no longer post them on the poetry site
I will still do them and post them here on my blog later.
But here are the rest
Prompt #22 was to write about Work
Work
Is a necessity
we love to hate,
hate to love
and cannot live with out
Work
When not over done
keeps us healthy
the mind agile,
the body willing.
Work
Makes our troubles less
keeps us young at heart
and satisfied with who we are
Work
Gives us money to spend
Something to barter with
Or at least a since of accomplishment
Work
is what you make it.
it can be a chore,
or fact of life well done.
Prompt #23 Regret;
Regret
I have none
Yes, but what about the time you cried?
I’ve no regrets for those tears, they helped me grow.
But what about the time you lost your first love
I’ve no regrets, for that loss taught what it is
I do not want.
What about when someone said unkind and untrue things about you?
No regrets, it showed me who my friends are.
What about the time, you thought God had forsaken you.
No regrets, it was then,
I learned he was teaching me to fly.
Prompt #24 Write about travel
This is a poem I wrote a while back and revised
Open Butterfly Wings
One day a butterfly flitting on the breeze
Came upon and settled on the breast of me.
Words of wisdom it did carry on wings of softened beauty,
Mother Nature at her best.
It’s lexis of wisdom nearly lost on the breeze of Mother Nature’s breath.
Quietly, unwearied the butterfly in its beauty stayed upon my breast,
Waiting for the words of wisdom, it did carry to rest upon…
MY… life’s breathing breath.
Thus, when I did inhale the breath of life I need,
The words of wisdom it did carry
Became a part of me.
It told me of the beauty my life alone could have,
I must set aside my reservations…
Waltz the rhythmic amplification inside of me,
Dance…
Dance… with the earth as god intended it to be
Prompt #25 Write about an event and make that the title
It’s raining
Dark and gray
It’s raining
Drizzle—drizzle all of the day
It’s raining
The grass does grow
It’s raining
The birds still sing.
It’s raining
until days ends
It’s raining
A rainbow appears
It’s raining
the crops are not seared
It’s raining
Step in a puddle and smile
It’s raining
Tomorrow the sun will shine.
Prompt #26 write about Miscommunication
Miscommunications
Mary’s fed up with Bob’s performance
because he’s doing it again,
or more to the factual point…not doing it.
Repeatedly she urges him with her long legs,
yet, he is stone cold still, no action, no movement, no wanting.
She ponders tapping her fingers on her moist lips,
how to get him to fulfill her dreams.
He’ll like and enjoy it once he takes the first step, but
warming him up to the idea, will be a trick.
Whispering in his ear in her softest voice
“You’d think you’d want to do this for me.
I fix your meals, bath you, and massage your aching back
Still this one little thing you refuse to do.”
Bob would not
or could not
respond to Mary’s gentle touch and coaxing.
She speculates what to
do to get him over his shyness.
An idea she does contrive.
Bob watches motionless as she walks away
and disappears behind the sliding doors.
He ogles her with a new respect
eyes wide with skeptical anticipation
when she appears carrying a piece
of leather he’s never seen before.
“There that should do the trick”
Mary pats his long neck.
“You silly horse,
maybe soon
we'll be able to do a
flawless dressage pattern
without harness blinders.”
Prompt #27 write about Longing
another older poem pulled and revised
The Three Impish Thieves
By
Kellie M Shanley
I yearn for the days of yore,
when the three of us would seek and explore.
To laugh and giggle such follies we’d play, with
devilment, generating sparks in our eyes,
not a word thus spoken, we could surmise.
What one didn’t think of the other one would.
Only the three of us,
we shouldn’t,
we would.
The follies passed on memories for us to seek and explore,
memories of the three of us in retrospect no more.
The three impish thieves, not stealing a thing,
but a moment in time,
a laugh from the heart,
a giggle within.
The three playful thieves
Mother, sister and me
Two generations
of time too brief.
Prompt # 30 write about a farewell
Shall I ever walk this way again
I think not.
I marvel looking back… walking toward the future,
hesitant, with a vague desire to return.
Decisively
I focus ahead, though
daunting at times
to see beyond the bends and curves.
I slow a step
fear, I feel with its oppressive weight.
I cannot see in front of me
Go slow—don’t wait.
With each step forward, I gaze over my shoulder
I feel the weight.
Run— I cannot,
the purpose not visualized.
Merciless push and pull, so tedious to stay
Look back—look forward.
Shall I ever walk this way again
I think not
Ahead, doubtful curves, attainment of new sights
bends and curves retrospectively
behind the wake of me.
With no choice
I’m obligated to look ahead.
Shall I ever walk this way again
Kellie Shanley 2009
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