Thursday, June 28, 2012

The Sale - DWP From 6-27-12

A husband and wife walk into Sears intending to window shop for cribs for their baby to be. The doting husband is listening intently to all his wife’s plans for the nursery as she ambles on and on through the baby section of the store. A salesman eyes the couple for a few minutes before walking over to prey upon the pair in their time of need.

The woman spots a beautiful cherry wood convertible crib. “Jessie, this ere’s perfect! It goes from one of them bassinet thingies to a crib, then to a tot bed and even turns into the header and footer for a big kid bed. Somef’in like this ‘ere could really save us some dough, honey. Think about all the stuff we ain’t gotta buy with one of these.” 

Jessie walks to the crib inspecting the quality of the craftsmanship before turning the informative tag over to gander at the price. “$800 Bucks!” he cries as he turns to the salesman “Ya’ll call this a half price sale?” The salesman pipes up commenting for nearly two minutes on the crafter and their style of design before it becomes obvious that all this talk of the latest innovations in baby furniture is lost upon Jessie.

“Sir, Jessie says I’m sorry but your high flut’in hoidy toidy ways is just too much trouble for us simple folk. Come on Ellie Mae. Let’s go on over to the Wal-mart.”

Positive - 2 Haiku - DWP From 6-26-12

Hold your head up, dear

And try to stay positive

Do not give up hope!


My dear dear brother

Of one thing I’m positive

You’re an idiot!

Endless - DWP From 6-25-12

Have you ever felt the desperation of a seemingly endless wait?

Where the excitement of the anticipated moment continues to build,

But the date has been predetermined so there is no use wishing it were otherwise?

July 24th is the date, however the hour is known; a book is the catalyst,

The last book, the summation of a series, last we will ever know of Evie.

I await Endlessly.  

The Puzzle - DWP From 6-24-12

Linked together piece by piece
An image finally becomes clear

A blue sky, the salty seas of Nice

And a small boat tied to a pier.

Erractic - 4 Lined Poem - From 6-23-12

Debby could not be plotted,

She maintained no charted course.
On the gulf beaches she trotted
Sending waves of decimating force.

The Patch - 4 Lines Of Prose - DWP From 6-22-12

Keith ran in the front door his sneakers squeaking and squealing as he skid across the foyer floor and slid down the hall, racing his way to the kitchen.

“Mom! Mom!”

“Keith!  What’s the matter?” mom asked as she appeared at the end of a short hall that marked the entrance to the kitchen.

Keith charged into her wrapping his arms around her thighs and hugging her tightly. 

“Mom! Look what I got!” Keith erratically waved a small piece of what looked like fabric in front of his mothers face. “Isn’t it great?”

Mom tried to read the writing on the small patch her son held tightly in his little hands but it was moving too fast to make any sense of it.

It was then that Dad entered. Mom looked up at him and smiled.

Dad smirked and then started to speak. “He earned his Boy Scout badge for blueberry picking today honey. It was all he could talk about the whole way home.”

Mom’s eyes grew wide as she looked first to her son and then to her white pants. She sighed. “Oh, Yes Sweetheart, it’s fantastic!”  

Extra - DWP From 6-21-12

Time, nine months to be exact, it ticks by slowly. The unknown making it all the more difficult to prepare.

10,000 baby names sit before you in a well bound book. Leafing through the pages month after month together, you finally decide on one.

But one isn't enough, you need yet another, and the more you speak to your extended family the more obvious it becomes you'll need to choose a third and a fourth.

In the end you most likely wont use them all but it never hurts to have a few extra.

Twisting - DWP From 6-20-22

It was an unusually hot and humid day in Aurora, Nebraska. I entered the school bus, took a window seat near the front and waited for the driver to start his long route towards home. Looking out of the window I watched as the clouds darkened and swirled, twisting and turning in waves of various shades of grey and black. Then the rain came, light at first, and only minutes later in huge bulbous drops that pelted the windshield. Not long after, hail began to fall, starting as tiny chips of ice and quickly becoming golf ball sized chunks that were banging hard against the metal roof.

Stop after stop, parents hurried their children away from the bus and into waiting vehicles, each of them determined to make it to safety before the severe weather hit. Lightning cracked again and again, frightening the remaining children who shrank away from their illuminated windows. Mr. Gerald, the bus driver, was doing his best to reassure us that it was better to continue the route than to return to the school. Looking back on it now I guess he knew we’d never have made it in time.

The Photographer - 2 Haiku - DWP From 6 -19-12

Black and white filter
Shot with a wide angle lens
The landscape captured.


Your faults disappear
Exposing your best features
He's a magician.

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

The Pit - DWP From 6-18-12

She stands statuesque, watching and waiting, like she does every week day at this time. Not a sound escapes her lips as she sees her child exit the bus and come bounding up the drive to envelope her in an enthusiastic hug. Her sole purpose is to please him, to comfort him and protect him. It is her duty and she accepts it willingly, she will allow nothing to separate them.

Pulling away he smiled, kissed her on the forehead and walked toward the house. He’d barely taken three steps before she heard the tell tale sound of a Rattler. She froze searching the grass for the snake. Finally she caught sight of it, its head rising just above the grass poised to strike her boy. Sasha was off like shot, pushing her boy out of the way and placing herself between the snake and the child.

It struck at her leg; its teeth skimmed over her skin creating a small scratch, but were unable to take hold to inject the venom necessary to immobilize her. Sasha rounded on the snake, grabbing it by the mid section and furiously shaking it. The snake tried to retaliate for a few moments but eventually its body went limp. Realizing it was dead and the threat was over Sasha released the body from between her teeth and limped over to her boy. She sniffed him all over and when she was certain he had not been bitten she licked his face and lay down with him in the grass.

“Good girl Sasha.” he crooned. “Good Dog! You saved me!”

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Unfavorable Comparisions - DWP From 6-17-12

Tiffany has got a mouth the size of the grand canyon and a head just as empty.

Stephanie is more clingy then a pit bull at a bull fight.

Dylan is so shallow, puddles have more depth

Unwanted - 4 Line Poem - DWP From 6-16-12

My tearing eyes are red and sore,
God help me, I can't take no more,
Send no more flowers through this door,
One more bouquet and I'm done for!

Sunday, June 17, 2012

The Message - DWP From 6-15-12

Dear Marc,

I'm not feeling the least bit creative today. I spent the day in the hospital with my daughter. She has got a concussion, is on pain meds and can only walk with crutches. I'll spill the whole story tomorrow if your interested. I'm too tired now and just popped in to leave "THIS MESSAGE".

Continuations - DWP From 6-13-12

Today was another continuations prompt, with Mulitple Authors.


The shadows are creeping closer. I shrink away from their touch but there is no escaping their relentless pursuit, their gloomy grip. Day is stepping aside and night is eager to assume control once more.

Life becomes simpler now, more focused. I suppose I should be grateful for that. The many complications and decisions that call for my attention during daylight hours melt away, leaving me with a single thought, a solitary purpose.

Survive until dawn.


I sit down in the high-backed armchair and let the shadows fold around me. Everything is so quiet that I can hear the pulsing of the blood in my ears, and my heart thumps along in my chest, thankfully in time with it. And then, just as I'm starting to lose alertness and sleep is creeping up on me, there's a high-pitched cry in the distance and I jerk forward, awake and on edge.

Footsteps, light and fast. They're coming towards my house, but will they go past? I lean further forward still, straining to hear more detail, hoping to hear them run on by.

"This one! We've not done this one yet!"

I shudder at the sound of those horrible high-pitched voices, and then start again as I see the orange glows bobbing around outside.

"BANG!" Something – someone – hammers on the door.

"Trick or treat!"


I had thought turning the lights out and hiding in the utter blackness of the house would deter the greedy little heathens from venturing up my driveway and demanding sweets.

Yet as I tore open the door I saw the little bundles of energy, screeching and carrying on, high on the nights haul. Dressed as flesh eating zombies, blood sucking vampires and sickeningly cute puppies and kittens.

Darn it. You've done it again - DWP From 6-14-12

"Darn it Krystin, you've done it again!"

It's impossible for one person to save the world. I know this, yet again and again I open my heart and my home to all the neighborhood strays.

I held my head in my hands as I considered my options.

There are times when there is just enough to food to feed the mouths that already reside here.

Yet, I wouldn't be the person I am if I turned my back on a creature in need, leaving it homeless and without the necessary provisions.

Would my husband forgive me? I promised him just yesterday it would be the last time. Yet I'd already found another young sole that needed saving.

I'd reacted to the situation without regard to the consequences. It was too late now and truth be told I don't feel the least bit sorry. I smiled in spite of myself.

"Philip, welcome to Scott Farm. You'll bunk with Casey and Keith. Everyone here pulls their own weight, They'll show you the ropes. Breakfasts and 7:00am Dinners at 6:00pm. Don't be late."

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Symptoms - 2 Haiku - DWP From 6-12-12

Am I Going Nuts?
I Asked The Mirror, Sighing
Yep! Total Fruitcake


Cotton Mouth, Head Ache
Can't Remember Anything
Twenty First Birthday

Sisters - DWP From 6-11-12

I love you my little sister I really do

Of this simple fact I hope you always knew

But how in the world did we turn out this way

You’re on Facebook all night while I write all day

My eyes of gray don’t match yours of brown

You’re shy and quiet while I act like a clown

Even your hair is different than mine

The color of ravens, straight, long, and fine

Your stature is skinny but mines rather round

On no single thing do we have common ground

Have you ever wondered how it came to be

That we fell out of the same family tree?

Monday, June 11, 2012

Hats - DWP From 6-10-12

A rainbow colored beanie

Topped with a propeller

The goofy blackmail photos

Are nothing short of stellar

Sunday, June 10, 2012

The Receptionist - 4 Line Poem - DWP From 6-9-12

The short job description read, type 90 words per minute and file,

Answer the phone, take messages, and greet clients with a smile,

Nowhere in the advertisement did it discuss your sleazy advances,

So are you going to get your hands off of me or take your chances?

Reflections - 4 Lines of Prose - DWP From 6-8-12

“Mom what was my name going to be if I was a boy?” Megan asked while skimming through my book of 1000,001 Best Baby Names.

 “Joshua Christopher.” I replied, “Make sure you put that book back on the shelf when you’re done, I use it a lot when I’m writing and don’t want to have to go hunting for it.”

“Okay! “ There was a long pause before she built up enough courage to ask her next question.  ”What were the twin’s names going to be if they were boys?”

Turning away from my computer screen to look at her, I replied. “Sebastian Alexander and Erik Tristan, Why do you want to know?”

Megan smiled and buried her face inside the book before replying, “No reason.”

Friday, June 8, 2012

The Tombstone - DWP From 6-7-12

Hidden in the over grown grass of the prairie

Lying on its back, pushed over by heavy winds

The edges of the grey cement slab crumbling

The epitaph faded, eroded away by the rain

To who it belongs, no one alive can be sure

Forgotten with time, its remnants endure.

Thursday, June 7, 2012

The Prospector - DWP From 6-6-12

It all started with the tiniest sneeze

A bit of pollen carried in on the breeze

Her eyes went red, tearing and puffy

Her nose started itching and got stuffy

Now little Clara’s gone digging for gold

A sight I’d of wished never to behold

Someone please run and get a box of tissues

With these green boogies I’ve got real issues!

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Forgiveness - 2 Haiku - DWP From 6-5-12

Just to prove their point
Castles burned and lives destroyed
A cousin's quarrel

< >

No, I can't forgive
Be sure, I will not forget
The cause of my pain.

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

The Tattoo - DWP From 6-4-12

A fairy stands in the light cast by the moon
Her features crease as she reads each rune
Now she knows what may come to pass
And where she must go to find the lass
Searching for the one with the Celtic tattoo
The poor orphaned child who hasn’t a clue
That her destiny will be thrust upon her fast
Once the queen’s evil forces have amassed.

Monday, June 4, 2012

The Exit - DWP From 6/3/12

Yogi bear, Boo Boo and Snagglepuss were emptying the contents of the ranger’s larder when they heard the screen door creak open.

“Heaven’s to Murgatroyd!” Snagglepuss exclaimed.

Boo Boo’s eyes grew wide “Uh Oh Yogi!”

“It’s the ranger!” Yogi said as he gobbled up the last of the blueberry pie.

“Exit stage left.” Snagglepuss announced as he dashed out the back door with Yogi and Boo Boo hot on his heels.

Waste - 4 Line Poem - DWP From 6-2-12

She cooked with style and with grace

Till poor Chef Julia forgot to baste
Then the turkey exploded in her face
Now the entire meal’s a total waste!

Customs - 4 Lines of Prose - DWP From 6-1-12

"Tiff, what’s your first class?" Stacey asked as she and Tiffany left the university registrar’s office.

Tiffany stopped and starred at the first of many papers she had clenched in her fist. Repeatedly blowing bubbles and snapping her gum she perused the class list. "Psy.... Oh, My, God! Stac, look over there, that guy has two metal spikes protruding from under his lip and a bull ring in his nose.

Like, No, Way! Seriously? Stacey turned to gawk at the guy standing in the line to her right but in doing so spied another unique character. "Tiff, Tiff, she said while smacking Tiffany on the forearm.”Check out this chick! Who dressed her this morning she looks like she’s dead with that black dress and pale skin. That’s like totally bogus! You won't find anything that heinous in the valley.

Don't be such a drama queen Stac, were not in Cali anymore.

Friday, June 1, 2012

The Cross Over - DWP From 5-31-12

For today's prompt Marc threw down a challenge! Take two (or more) characters from different stories (yours or someone else's) and bring them into a scene together.

This was my response:

Quickly turning from a soft drizzle to torrential downpour the rain whipped into the face of Willy Wonka as he hurried down a busy London street. Eager to keep himself dry, Wonka slipped under the awning of a squat brick building and scanned the street.  Wet newspapers launched themselves into the air while a deluge of rain poured from roofs in the form of waterfalls. There was no place to hide, until the rain ceased he was stuck.  Utterly bored he turned to look into the window of the store, in front of which he was standing.  
Meat Pies?  Abominable! What fool would put meat into a perfectly good pie? Well, I did miss breakfast and I cannot continue on in this wretched weather. But it seems that is all these dismal streets have to offer. Maybe a spot of hot tea to warm the heart and mind, this is England after all.
The decision had been made, Wonka opened the door and a mouth watering aroma found its way into his nostrils.
“Good Day, Sir” Ms. Lovett said with a toothy grin of black and decaying teeth. “What can I get ya?” 
“One pasty and a cup of hot tea if you please, Ms…?” Mr. Wonka said questioningly as he shook the rain from his large black hat.
Ms. Lovett bustled behind the counter and placed a pie on a cooling plate. 
“Lovett Dear, Ms. Lovett. What brings you to Fleet Street on a day such as this?”
“I’ve come all the way from America to meet with various confectioners in London. I’m searching to find a new ingredient for the filling of my latest chocolate bar.  Nothing I’ve come across has been right. I need something gelatinous, something that really sticks to the roof of your mouth.”
The soft chime of a bell alerted the couple to the door being opened. A man dressed all in black with wild hair rushed in. “Nellie, I have to talk to you about…. Oh, pardon me!”
“Ah!   Mr. Todd so glad you could join us. This is Mr. Wonka.  He is a candy maker from America looking for a sticky filling for his new sweet treat.”
Mr. Todd raised an eyebrow and a sinister smile slid across his face. “Is that so?” he said before taking the seat opposite Mr. Wonka. “Maybe I can help with that.”

What is in Mr. Wonka's chocolate bars? Only Nellie Lovett and Sweeney Todd know for sure!