Lost - TOP Poem

Totally Optional Prompts posts: The challenge this week is to write about lost stuff, lost identity.

glass slivers on the patio
shimmered in the crystal night
he came while I was gone and
the moon looked the other way

inside sprawled the hope chest
opened by an egg beater
silverware spilled among papers
photographs and thumb spun books

jewelry - cosmetics - perfume
and, my coin collection
disguised in an old boot box,
never again touched my hands

one day I stood red-faced
to identify silky underthings
in front of three detectives
who caught and lost the thief

safety changed its definition
warning clicks in the night
security shivers in the shadows
he'll make another pass

Processed fractal.

fractals

HOT - Manner

Heads Or Tails! The theme for HoT, Tuesday, August 5 is: HEADS - Manner


The frenetic manner of hummingbirds increases my pulse. I watch them attack each other and often wonder what keeps one from beaking my ear? Or, even worse, tangling in my hair like a rabid bat? They have a tendency to whirl right toward my face and look me in the eye before they twirl back to the red plastic flower.

A brave blogger lady posted a photo of a small red container of sugar/water nectar perched on her palm and each of her fingers was decorated with a sipping bird.

Amazing. How long did it take her to quit screaming?

Tiny hummingbirds make a large thunk when they lambast each other in order to keep the whole pot of sugar/water to themselves.

I saw one the other day who had lost her entire fan of tail feathers. Does she need them as rudders or does she only use them as a threat against potential second-class thieves. Will they grow back?

Why are hummingbirds so greedy. Did they learn that from humans?



Processed digital photo by Sue

OSI Folly Haiku

One Single Impression offers:

Thanks to Edward S. Gault of Forest River Journal for this week's prompt of folly.


I always thought of folly as a silliness or a temporary departure from rational thought but Wikipedia defines it in a slightly different fashion and one which I found rather fun.

**
eye-catcher
not what it appears
full folly

**

odd building
designed to deceive
novelty

**

architect's
castle in wet sand
folly plan

**

Treehouse of the August Moon, Original Watercolor by Sue


poetry watercolor

Do I have to?

Sunday Scribblings offers this prompt. Make of it what you will: "Do I have to?"

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Four. words. They. turn. me. into. a. whiner.

Only recently has guilt turned into a goad that makes watching a bad movie turn into a six-hour ordeal. No longer can I get it over with in ninety minutes. Nosirreee, I have to pause every few minutes to move into 'save my arse' mode.

A six-week hospitalization for pneumonia morphed into coming home with a snake oil salesman's bag of pills and illegible prescriptions, a list of instructions longer than a chimpanzee arm and commands that whisper warnings in my head, 'Don't sit down - it's treadmill time. Don't sit down - it's yoga time. Don't sit down...'

Mind you, I've never been much of a sitter but only recently has this voice emerged to guilt me into moving constantly.

As much as I dislike medications, I'll have to admit that the newest discovery of a pill to replace exercise rose almost as high on my bucket list as the 'if you don't feel like cooking, take the green pill'.

Hurry, researchers. I'm counting on you to convert this pushy voice into the soothing sound of, 'Of course, you don't have to. Sit down and read.'





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