Inspired by C.S. Lewis’ Screwtape Letters and the many current events of the modern world. I may do more of these.
This week’s Terrible Poetry Contest is over at Chelsea’s page. Give it a read, give it a whirl, chuckle and snuffle until the words all swirl.
This week’s theme is losing something dear to you. I was daring and wrote about losing my patience.
Meetings blur past eyes
Goals stretch farther to Saturn
Do the scratchings count?
A flower of red
Soft warmth against my forearm
A life struggles on.
A tiring day.
The Amber Eyes keeps whining.
To rest, is foreign.
“Hello and this is Reginald Swinebottom presents. Welcome to Day 13 of of our Blogmas 2018 Premiere. Please, join us today for another excruciating “Terrible Poetry” reading! The goal is to write a truly terrible poem–extra points for jolts of revulsion and sudden aches of terror. Join the brouhaha at Chelsea Ann Owen’s blog. Enter and join the fun, or subscribe to her page for future updates–if you dare.
The theme is: Parody of “‘Twas The Night Before Christmas”
“Hello and this is Reginald Swinebottom presents. Welcome to Day 6 of of our Blogmas 2018 Premiere. Please, join us today for a Terrible Poetry Reading. Yes, it really is a terrible poetry contest–emphasis on the terrible. We’re signed up with Chelsea Ann Owens for her most recent poetry contest. Enter and join the fun, or subscribe to her page for future updates.
The theme is: That Object That Always Breaks in Your House…
Happy Thanksgiving from me at Peregrine Arc.
Let’s all slaughter a bird, sit down, and talk.
We’ll clamor, and yammer and pass the dressings all ’round,
while we hide our Christmas lists and gain twenty more pounds.
My entry for KaylaAnAuthor’s Summer Poetry contest. Click here for details on how to join in and to check out the other entries.
Thanks for reading.
It was Dewday, the day before the bee’s extended hibernation. All the year’s filings were done, all the t’s crossed and i’s dotted with beetle ink. Susie’s staff and fellow bees were lining up with quilts and scarves, preparing to help warm the queen through the coming winter months. The grand harvest party was beginning and would end with hibernation. The hive was warm and glowing with hundreds of wax candles. The Bee’s Knees Dance would start later after the parade.
“Susie, aren’t you coming?” a fellow worker bee called out. Her name was Petunia. Petunia was only three weeks old and had a grin the size of a rose on her face.
“I need to finish my reports. You go on ahead,” Susie called from her typewriter, waving an antennae in greeting. “Have fun!”
Susie waited until the hive quieted, the workers all gone from their units. The band started down the hall and a pleasant buzzing began, punctuated with congratulatory speeches from their queen. It had been a good harvest.
Susie rested her head on her arms, waving her antennae in time to the music. She felt peace.