Across
Time
Space
Colors
Images
Emotions
Swirls
Lines
Angles
Paint
Spray cans
Brushes
Scream
See
Him
Loudly
Hear
Her
Don’t
Forget
Us
Category: daily prompt
You transformed me
An insecure girl with wild hair
Wandering in a new place, a new school
Struggling to find her way
A name no one knows
You’re not Lisa, Michelle, Karen or Kim
Then I discovered you in Mythological stories of Greek gods and nymphs
You are a nymph loved by Apollo
He promises to care for you forever
Now no I’m longer the girl with the strange name
I’m a beautiful Greek nymph loved by Apollo the ideal of all a Greek man should be
I’m You
I’m Daphne
And my beloved you saved me
Writing 201 Fallacy
Forsaking all others until death do us part
A lifetime of care and support
You stand by my side forgiving me my faults
The mother of my children
My faithful wife
An understanding friend
A loving daughter-in-law
Lover of God, follower of Jesus, community volunteer
A sensual and eager lover
Beautiful body
Beautiful soul
I will love you forever
The joke is on you, I cheated, I bought sex, I denied, I walked away and left you alone and financially destitute. I betrayed our family. I broke my daughters’ hearts. I left them behind and chose not to be their father. I stood before God and lied. Lied, lied, lied. I am Doug and I am a fallacy personified.
What is freedom?
Freedom
Colored by cultural
Effected by economics
Hampered by health
Pursued by peace
Fought for by force
Wanted by women
Controlled by choices
Destroyed by divorce
Dreams realized by divorce
Frozen by fear of freedom
Peace doesn’t predict freedom
God’s grace gives true freedom
Les premières secondes de Paris
Apologies for the mistakes in my French.
Ma vie étais changé la première fois j’ai vu Paris. My life was changed the first time I saw Paris.
Mon âme était venue en vie. My soul had come to life.
Mes genoux affaiblit My knees weaken
Mon coeur chante My heart sings
Paris et moi, nous bien allons ensemble comme les abeilles et miel Paris and me, we belong together like bees and honey
La douceur de vie The sweetness of life
Paris a sauvé moi. Paris saved me.
Blurred Reflection
When I look into the mirror who do I see?
Who is that woman looking at me?
Is it the girl who had big daydreams,
Of love, adventure and French sunbeams?
Is it the teenager who doubted every decision she made?
The insecure girl who found herself betrayed?
Is it the young woman in love and ready to embark on life?
Or the woman whose husband sliced her heart with a knife?
Is it the mother blessed with two compassionate girls
Who has the love from two of God’s precious pearls?
Is it the woman who is past her prime?
Watching the clock and hearing the tick tock of time?
Or is it the woman who has fought and struggled to reclaim her life?
Learning new lessons, knowledge and how to deal with strife?
One image placed upon another to reflect not just one woman’s soul
But a blending of each reflection so she can learn she’s not broken but whole.
Magic Poetry 101
A serendipitous meeting
Brought about by a cloudy day
A moment caught but once in a lifetime
A lifetime caught in that moment
Enchanted
Spellbound by a kiss
Hearts intertwined
Lives slowly braided together one experience at a time
Strands of love added one child at a time
Life is magic
Simple moments linked together by the magic of love
The magic of life
Wrap up challenge
I learned that while writing can be expressive if unchecked it can turn depressive. I learned the world of bloggers has many kind and caring people. I was reminded how much I love words and writing. And I challenge myself to write a novel by 12-31-16. Thanks everyone
A Map as my Muse
How many of us choose our destiny? We definitely play a role in our lives and what happens, but so much is out of our control.
Would I be different if my parents had never moved me at the age of 9 from Oklahoma to Minnesota therefore preventing the teasing which tore at my sense of value? I still hear the laughter ringing out as a recording of my voice is played back to the class and my distinctly southern accent stood in contrast the nasal, clipped sound of the north.
Would I be different if at 11.5 I wasn’t moved from Minnesota to Colorado with six weeks left of sixth grade. Not enough time to make friends and settle in, so a summer spent alone. Which meant having to begin 7th grade just a few months later at an entirely different school. Doing my best to figure out where I fit and finally finding my place to be moved again.
Midway in 9th grade a move to Las Vegas and a high school that was nothing like the one from which I had come. Sitting at lunch in the car with my mom for the first week so I wouldn’t cry and try to walk home. Spending another semester and summer alone to begin a new year once more with no friends.
Would I be different if I hadn’t desperately wanted to leave Las Vegas and ended up marrying a man a hardly knew? Spending 30 years of my life with him first in Iowa and then in Texas?
Would I be different if I had stayed in the place I had called home since 1986 rather than moving a mere 30 minutes away where it was convenient for my friends to forget me? If I had stayed would they still have forgotten me?
Would I be different if I hadn’t taken 3 months and gone to France to try and learn French and experience life from a different perspective? Staying in the security of the familiar?
Would I be different if I had made the choice not to leave Dallas-Fort Worth rather than taking a chance on a better life in a new place and all the struggles building a new life entails?
Of course there is no way to know. Our lives are shaped by so many things and places are but one. We are the sum of our experiences but until we die our life equation is never complete. There is always something more to add, subtract, multiply or divide in our lives.
Mining my own material
To be honest I couldn’t find anything I felt worthy of readdressing. My mood is dark as is my future. I no longer think clearly or have the ability to read a book or watch a simple television show without seeing and thinking of all that was taken from me and what I will never experience again. And to aggravate me and wear my patience my cat will not stop crying. He meows over and over, louder and louder. Do you think he speaking for me? Crying the tears when I’m too lost to cry for myself?
