I’m joining in Sue Vincent’s #writephoto challenge today. It’s all about dreams…
Always in bloom
Her dreams took her
To faraway places
She hadn’t been before
A path that beckoned
Colors to entice her through
Darkest of days
Purple and green
And greys in between
Her dream as vivid as the
Lilac in late spring
-LT 7/2/20
Want to join in? Write up your own little poem and link back to Sue’s post.
#Poetry challenge #WritePhoto Purple and Green dreams…do you dream in color or black and white? Share on X
First, let me just say this isn’t a post about how to know if you are an empath. I just want to express the problems I’ve experienced as an empath myself and offer tips for those of you who are feeling especially tapped out right now.
Empaths are vulnerable to abusive people who take advantage of their good nature and well of compassion. Empaths are far from perfect and are often told they are too sensitive.
I’m sharing a poem with you today. I wonder, can you relate? As much of my life lessons have taught me about valuing material goods over love and health, I don’t believe I’ve expressed it as well as with this verse.
Whoever “she” is has taught me, too.
I’m feeling…somber.
George Floyd is yet another victim in a long list of black men and women who have been killed by people who are meant to protect them. The words “I can’t breathe” have become a sickening pattern. Not this again! How can this keep happening? Why is this happening?
Confession: I could not watch the video of his tragic death. I don’t have the stomach for it.
#WritePhoto is a writing prompt created by Sue of Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo . Sue has chosen this image with the word prompt ‘paint’. You can write poetry (free style), essay or a story using the image or the word. I’ve chosen the image.
His True Love Ash blew into his eye As he scattered her From the bridge Into the Creek below Lily pads will surround her And gracious trees will soothe her Just as she had asked To rest her burned bones Beneath the red bridge Where they first kissed He wiped his wet cheek With his shirt sleeve Dusted his true love From his jeans Thank you, my Love, he whispered As he replaced the lid of the urn Closing his eyes For a final goodbye He turned to leave The bridge swayed And the wind carried her scent Of lavender back to him
If you’d like to join in check out Sue’s page here.
Sharing a poem with you today. Dark self or someone real? You decide.
SHE DRESSED IN BLACK She dressed in black The scar on her cheek Was from an unknown attack. She laughed at my Pastel-colored shirt. Her baby talk and tattoos Incongruent with her smirk. As she lit her cigarette She asked me why I was so naïve. To think I could Break away From this Structure that was Destined to me. "Besides," she asked "Could you live without The luxury you’ve known?" She said, "Give me a call When you’re ready To go." Then she kicked at a stone With her Doc Marten toe. Her laughter fell flat On the side of the road. Her sarcasm Crawled beneath my skin And lingered... Daring me to begin.
image source: Photo by Abdiel Ibarra on Unsplash
It’s surprising to me that we’ve quickly reached a point in this flu crisis of considering re-opening the economy. For example, two of our least hit Canadian provinces have already rolled out a re-opening plan. It makes us hopeful in spite of the risk. Won’t it be nice to get back to normal. But we all have different opinions on this.
I’ve had a fondness for pajamas for as long as I can remember. As a young child I recall mourning my pajamas when my mother confiscated them. She had decided they were too small for me. Just because my arms and legs were extending far beyond the leg and arm holes? I beg of you. Have mercy on a child who loves her pajamas. When I went in search of the trash bag I suspected contained my worn out pajamas, I found gold. Those pajamas lasted another year.
Sharing…a poem for you today in honor of Earth Day. Not a pretty picture but a reality we see daily.
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