To inspire us, my husband and I are using the prompts listed below. I discovered them on Pinterest. We only choose one, the prompt that inspires us the most. Some of them are quite challenging.
Nothing is truly
dead. Life makes way for new life;
hiding, seeking, finding
Watch where you step!
cracking, crunching, breaking
So you know how, at the ball,
I told you I was a princess,
and my father had died, leaving my step-mother as the queen of our kingdom?
And that the reason you hadn’t heard of my kingdom was because it was isolated?
And that I had to leave at the stroke of midnight because I had an important meeting to attend the following morning?
Well . . .
I might have over exaggerated.Just a little.
My father’s not a king and he’s not dead.
But he does call me his princess.
He’s gone on business for weeks at a time,
and he leaves my step-mother in charge.
But . . . she’s not a queen.
And we are citizens of your kingdom,
but my stepmother makes me do all the chores
and never allows me to leave the house, so I am isolated.
And I had to leave at the stroke of midnight because . . .
Well, that’s when the enchantment ended.
But I had chores to do in the morning, so
technically, I did have an important “meeting.”
I’m really glad to clear up this mess.
It doesn’t change anything . . .
if the shoe fits, I still get to wear it,
Forgive and forget
Neither forgive nor forget
Forgive, not forget
Although it sounds like a mixture of spices, it is actually a berry. It
Looks like a blueberry and kind of
Like a peppercorn. Native to Central and
South America, it is used in many Jamaican dishes and
Pies, such as mincemeat.
It can also be used to flavor eggnog as well as vegetables and soups. It tastes a little like
Cinnamon or nutmeg. This
Exceptional berry deserves a place in any spice rack.
Source: Filippone, Peggy Trowbridge. “Allspice Cooking Uses and Substitutions.” The Spruce Eats. 1 Jan 2019
When you feel you have
the short end of a stick, just
Et tu, Brute?
reading, writing, sharing
I have neglected mine
laughing, crying, fuming
With my hand,
I can only create stick figures:
a circle for a face, dots for the eyes and nose,
a curved line for a mouth;
lines for the body and limbs;
maybe geometric clothes and squiggly lines for hair.
With my mind,
I can create full-dimensional characters;
flowing raven locks, eyes the same shade as the summer sky;
aquiline nose, bow-shaped mouth always upturned in a smile;
a sleek ball gown of emerald green cascading in ruffles to the floor;
a dagger tucked into a garter hidden underneath the ruffles;
one task in mind: to seduce and then murder the king.
That’s why I’m a writer and not an artist.
rolling, whirring, cleaning
full of suction and power
gaping, emptying, vacating
Kind of pointless
Substituting the real thing
Taking over my coffee cup
I’d rather do without
There once was a bunny named Hop
Whose ears were always a flop
He twisted his leg
Running after an egg
Now he goes around riding a top.
Half-past ten in the morning,
A message over the intercom:
“Teachers, we have a Code Blue.”
Mind racing; is it an intruder?
that’s a Code Red.
“What’s going on?”
“Is someone in the building?”
“No; it’s probably just a drill.”
This is no drill;
there’s no drill scheduled today.
Should I be frightened?
Maybe, but it doesn’t matter.
I’m the teacher.
Regardless of what’s happening in the hall,
I must stay calm and
Twenty-three lives depend on me.
Quarter ‘til eleven.
“Is it over yet?”
“I need to use the restroom.”
“No one can leave the room.”
no email, no message;
just twenty-three pairs of eyes
flicking from me to the door
as I ramble on about
plot and sequence.
“Are we going to miss lunch?”
“What if someone was in the restroom
when the Code Blue started?”
“You will get to eat, one way or another.
Then, that person would have to stay in the
restroom until we receive the
Seventeen minutes after eleven.
“Teachers, the Code Blue has ended.”
Finally, an email.
A belligerent student in the hallway;
student subdued and removed.
A sigh of relief;
Who? She asked
A man and his wife at the dinner table:
“I talked to Frank today,” he said.
“Who?” she asked.
“You know, Frank.
From work. He wants me join him in
playing Mario Kart”
“What?” she asked.
“You know, Mario Kart
“When?” she asked
“Where?” she asked.
“At his house.”
“Why?” she asked.
He rolled his eyes.
“Because it’s fun.”
Sometimes song lyrics
get stuck in my head, mostly
the annoying ones.
There was a young pig named Sutton
Whose jacket had thirteen buttons
He ate so much slop
The buttons did pop
Said he, “I shouldn’t be such a glutton!”
Until the next post . . . keep smiling!