Happy Halloween 55

for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

Flash 55 Plus

Black cats and witches

grave yards and ghosts

vampire bats and goblins

all stand to make a toast

Give the beggars sweet cakes

so they will pray for your soul

many main traditions

began so very long ago

Don't be scared

but hold your breath

we have fun giving life

to a celebration of death

No matter how you celebrate,

or if you do at all,

Remember, to wrap your fun in safety

and hope you have  a ball.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

Self Portrait

for dVerse~Poets Pub

Self Portrait

Not a wearer of pink

Nor dresses

I keep my face hidden

While I watch Nature

As if she were a Oscar-winning movie

Times ago

I wore pink dresses

Life leeches the pastels

Leaving earth tones

Blue jeans and big shirts

I want to be remembered

By the actions I've taken

Not how good I looked 

In the coffin

I want to slip away

To be a thought

That crosses someone's mind

"I knew her..."

And they smile

Knowing I'm not far away

Diamond Lil

The Border Collie maneuvers the rocky descent

The heavy rains flood carrying sticks
Stylish whirls, dip carrying the sludge
Surrounding the stones with alluvial mud
Cuddling the Border with tricky spaces
Faces watch as she holds her own
Homeward she travels

Tracking the master home

Saturday Centus 138 Thirteenth Day of Christmas

Saturday Centus Time with Jenny Matlock.  A wonderful Christmasy challenge 106 words for The Thirteen Day of Christmas.  I surprised myself.  The words flowed easily and counted 106 exactly.  Hop by Jenny's place and read all the tales.

The thirteenth day of Christmas
The stockings weren't found
The house was messy
The tree falling down

I wore my lovely sweater
My husband wore his ties
One thing made it better
Everyone said Goodbye

They took their presents
They left the mess
I hope they’re happy
I’m left with stress

Although it’s all over
The gifts are hauled away
Guests seemed to have forgotten
The meaning of the day

Christmas is about giving
Oh, so very true
Not mounds of senseless presents
But the gift of you.

So next year please
Keep your presents in your car
We’re having a real Christmas
Following The Star

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERY ONE!

Mag 122...A Writing Prompt

Instructions

1) Write a poem or short vignette using the picture featured in this post as your inspiration. Feel free to take the photo to use for your post.
2) Link back to Magpie Tales from your post.
3) Sign up in the Mr. Linky list, linking directly to your post, AFTER you've posted.

Go and visit to see how many contributed so wonderfully.  Thanks, Ms Tess.

Puddle, 1952, M. C. Escher

The Puddle

Muddy puddle

Reflecting sky

People walking through

People walking by.

So goes our life

Reflecting above and below

Where people trod

To and fro.

Leaving tracks

Upon our heart

The people we pass

Do leave their mark.

SC104-Yellow Rose...

The Saturday Centus  prompt this week is: "There's a yellow rose in Texas..."
Number of words: 100 PLUS the five words of the prompt for a maximum word count of 105
Style of writing: Any
Pictures: As many as you like

There's a yellow rose in Texas

There's a yellow rose in Texas

Near the Alamo

Said to bloom quite beautifully

Where heroes blood did flow.

Santa Anna's army outnumbered

All those within

But they did not lay down quietly

They fought until the end.

Balls powder and Bowie knives

Unknown weapons they used

Their fight was for freedom

The Mexicans were not amused.

Every person defended

Reloading and handing high

They helped to load old muskets

And kept the powder dry.

The battle ended badly

The heroes made a show

The battle cry adopted

"Remember the Alamo!"

Oft times in early morning

People see

The yellow rose of Texas

Weeping for the free.

Ode To My Navel

Alas, my dear navel,

 I knew thee well

when you were but a gentle swell

marking the center of my being.

I lost sight of you during human incubation.

Oh, but you always returned.

You returned and swirled and dipped in gentle folds

and danced, when I laughed.

This season, I see you only in my reflection,

as you solemnly stare one-eyed.

Will you return after the holidays

so I may gaze into your eye once again?

Oh, No, Not Another Poem!

THE TROPHY

Written September 1991

By Me

~

The legs hung from the tree

The knife lay

In the life prints

On the ground.

~

Bits of winter coat

And pieces that were no good alone

Were all that remained,

No longer warm.

~

The wind paid homage to the life lost

The young raised their heads

To sniff the air

He wasn't coming home.

~

Oh, so proud...so strong!

Dropped by a sound he never heard

"Meat"

They said.

~

But the sad-eyed head

And the crown of horns

Said

"Trophy".