1891 - Before

 MLMM Monday Wordle #478 invites us to use the following words:

dream, touch, kind, calm, forehead, hand, cool, shared, picture, cheer, want, before

Before

She was dying.

It was unreal

But very real,

It was no dream.

I cooled her forehead,

Held her hand,

Played her music

Hoping to cheer her up.

But she was dying.

◊

“Nugget” she called it,

Always wanting to be positive.

I used different words.

After a year of a kind of calm

It was on the move, growing.

Why kill your host? I wondered.

She was not really dying—

She was being killed.

◊

As I sat beside her,

Touching her, comforting her,

We reliving shared memories,

Picturing scenes long ago.

Eking out one more day

Before…

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1890 - Number Forty One

 "41 Mosaic" - Photo: JCN

The Sunday Whirl presented these twelve words for us to use in a creative writing piece. 

sighs siren knocking still centered lost slip doors true screams beneath curse

Second prompt: Poets & Storytellers Prompt: 

We invite you to find inspiration in the idea of letting go of something 

that used to be wonderful, which no longer fits in your life.  

Number Forty One.

After she died

The house was empty.

Yes, true, I was in it.

Yes, all our belongings 

Still filled cupboards, shelves,

Beneath the beds—

But nonetheless it was empty.

Hollow.

After a few weeks

Neighbours stopped knocking,

The doors to some rooms

Were pointedly closed.

I never wanted to scream

But sighs were always near.

I felt lost, no longer centred.

The house was not cursed,

Not haunted.  Just…nothing.

Eventually the siren call

Of far away places

Was irresistible.

I shut the front door,

Hugged the dogwood,

And slipped away.

◊

1889 - The Dogwood

 "Kissing Porpoise" - Photo: JCN

The Sunday Whirl presented these twelve words for us to use in a creative writing piece. 

lifetime share relax connect place last class awe home will years trip 

Poets & Storytellers invites us to write about a dead tree.

Posted to dVerse Open Night too.

The Dogwood

It was her great love—
Holding pride of place
In the front yard—
And also in her heart.
Planted when
The children were young.
Slow growing—
A lifetime tree
In a class of its own.
It graced our home 
There for thirty years or more
But it was always “her tree”,
Sharing in the arrival 
Of family and visitors,
Welcoming us back 
From trips overseas.
We would relax on the verandah,
Enjoying its changes.
Draped in white spring blossom,
Each flower appearing
As a kissing porpoise.
Flowers then gave way 
To acid green foliage,
Turning scarlet in autumn.
Passing strangers, in awe,
Would photograph each other
In front of it, share it—
A work of natural art,
A connection with nature.

She died.
The tree lived on,
A living reminder of her.
I left the house last year.

A short while later—

The tree died.

◊

1888 - Coma

 

The Sunday Whirl presented these twelve words for us to use in a creative writing piece.  

wide line self hollow rare track twist eye trance trudge powder empty 

It has a faint connection to Poets & Storyteller's prompt “Mostly dead is slightly alive.”

Also posted to dVerse

Coma

“Do you think he can hear us?”

◊

Fragments.  Self. Others.

Fragments of life—jumbled.

Scrambling, tumbling.

Like a trance.  But not.

Lost.  Found. Puzzled.

A birthday party.  Mine?

A bush track, somewhere.

I trudge behind.

Bells!  A wedding.  Whose?

A line of guests.  Not me.

A woman?  Mother?

I can smell soap.

“Wash your face, it’s filthy”.

Dancing!  The Twist! 

“Open wide!”

Ugh! Bex Powder!

A house!  Who’s?

Hollow, empty, dusty, dark.

A letter.  A rare treat. 

It vanishes.

A dog, is it mine?  Not sure.

Warm, brown eyes.

I hear voices.  Familiar.

Distant.

◊

“No. Probably not”.

◊

1887 - Dreams

 

   Image: ChatGPT 

The Sunday Whirl presented these twelve words for us to use in a creative writing piece.  

crush crisp creamy script brisk dreams dust seeds dim night whisper shimmer

Posted to dVerse

Dreams

Night

Crisp sheets

The Sandman

Sprinkles dust

Drifting

The mind blurs,

Creamy, dreamy,

Dim memories—

Seeds sown

Into the black loam

Of the untilled paddock

Of the mind.

Visions shimmer,

Voices whisper.

Or not.

No script.

The seeds planted

Sprout

Giving uncertain

Harvests. Crops

Mutate. Fragment.

Stretch, warp, twist.

Flying.  Falling. Crushed. Loving. 

Fearing. Dragons. Friends. Lovers. Demons. Holding. Swirling. Loving. Faster.  Slower. Panic.  Embracing.

Chasing.  Chased. Chaste. Or not.

Close emotions.

Distant alarm.

Intrudes.

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