Eden saw doubt in their trembling smiles, they never expected her to recover. She had never seen compassion in anyone’s eyes before and was confused and frightened at their touch. Although not unpleasant it felt strange to have gentle hands running down her back and over her flanks. She yawned and felt she had to try and stand, if only to take a small sip of water. A privilege denied her for the past two days. Unsteadily, she shook her head and stretching her legs made as if to stand. It was too difficult but she heard an unfamiliar babble of sound. The tones were gentle, reassuring and somehow she understood that today would be the first day of a new life. When she opened her eyes she heard a loud cheer and looking into the eyes that stared down at her she could make out the tears running down. She too wanted to cry but it was with happiness not the pain she had often felt as she was taken out of her crate for yet another mating. She was sure this would be different and she did not resist as she found herself being lifted. She felt a soft blanket cover her and instinctively knew she was being rescued from her life of hell.
Category Archives: Inspired emotion
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Filed under As you read it, Factual, Inspired emotion, Self compositions, Short story
Colleen’s 2019 Weekly #Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 153 #SynonymsOnly Grace & Style
Strings cannot withstand
the consummate elegance
of the wielded bow,
low tears wrenched from moistened eyes,
released by the cello’s mood.
Ronovan writes weekly #Haiku prompt #274
Rising from the ground
the roaring, giant lantern
lifts into the air.
RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #270 Pure&Serene
Pure thoughts emanate
from his serene countenance,
smile of the Buddha.
Sunday Writing Prompt 23-8-19, “Train Ticket”
So we boarded the Northern train
in howling winds and stinging rain.
The guard, with duties now performed
gives one last cry of all aboard.
Green flag raised, his whistle blows,
checks the carriage doors all closed.
Whilst stowing cases overhead
released our snorting fiery steed
With metal and mesh racks overflowing
four bare round lamps, all gently glowing.
As we settle back on the velour seating
Our ankles warmed by piped steam heating.
So leaving the station far behind
we catch the rhythm of the lines.
Windows sealed against the chill
the rhythmic, rocking, motion will
enfold us, in it’s gentle arms
as we succumb to it’s lazy charms
After eight long hours the race is run
to our right the rising sun
our destination close ahead
reluctantly our journey’s end.
So sadly we depart the Northern train
Counting the days till we ride it again
Filed under Inspired emotion, On the lines of romance, Self compositions
Rhyming Friday
Confined by health to her reclining chair
she told her nurse, “I’m dying.”
She replied by calling her a silly mare
but they both knew she was lying.
The old lady refused her breakfast
saying, “Please take it away,
last night’s dinner will be my last,
for the Angels are coming today.”
And the nurse with a smile jokingly said,
“You’re a bit grumpy today,
did you get out the wrong side of the bed
they’re not coming to take you away.”
The old lady passed away at lunchtime,
died peacefully but alone.
The smile on her face when they found her
told them the Angels had carried her home.
An ironic tale with more than a hint of sadness
Sadly, my mother passed away two weeks ago. As you can imagine there is always a lot to do at this painful time. I am currently seated in her electrical recline and lift chair making all the necessary arrangements. She was confined to this room and two others for two years prior to her demise. Her main regret was not being able to watch the birds on the feeders as she was able in her previous garden. Due to her inability to stand she was unable to see the birds frequenting this small garden from this seat. Looking up, I glanced out of the window as I had noticed a stirring of the abundant foliage of the honeysuckle bush beside the window. Then the dark brown head of a hen blackbird emerged. Within two minutes a cockbird flew into the bush, passing in full view of the window. Had my mother been alive she would have reported the sightings to me during our next telephone chat. In all this time this is the first time a bird of any species has chosen to nest in the bush. She would have been able to follow the progress of the raising of a family from the comfort of her chair. But sadly this is not to be. Is this irony, I for one cannot say but it underlines the sadness that invariably accompanies death whether a curse or a blessing.
The Easter address. #Tanka
Their gaze uplifted
eyes, ears and hearts opened,
smiling in their joy.
His message of peace and love,
a lesson for all nations.
Filed under Christian, Factual, faith, Inspired emotion, Self compositions, Tanka
Colleen Chesebro’s Tuesday Tanka Challenge. Ending-Abyss
Nursed unto the death,
final act of devotion,
eyes gently closing,
only memories remain
in that void once filled with love.
100 Word Wednesday: Week 114
Sam looked at the trees lining the highway. Varieties that he and his fellow prisoners had uprooted many years before. He knew tears would flow with every mile they covered, with each new memory. Memories of a life passed and lives lost amidst tears, both wasted and wasteful. Tears mixed with sweat-diluted blood. In the blazing, tropical, midday sun, moisture was precious, the guards watching every move, seldom and reluctantly offering water to drink. They had laid the track yard by yard but now he was perversely pleased to see their death railway transformed into the main highway through Burma
