Life in prairie could be fun,
especially when you ride a horse and run;
Wind blows a lovely song,
Adventures keep you live and young.
The journey ahead could be as rough as a tree,
Through the mist one is unable to see,
Doubts and hesitations may knock your brain,
Fears and failures may cause you pain.
Yet, Life will make your learn,
Sometimes you lose and sometimes you win;
You are born to live,
As hope lingers and tickles your belief.
goldenhairbear10, balletonly – May 3
C., The Darkest Divide – May 6
Attached to strings,
Puppets perform on screens,
Stirring up emotions.
Pandas, black and white,
Ignoring the cameras,
With eyes closed tight.
Let your self-defense
Be the most present tense,
Will life make more sense?
My bed is a boat,
Ducks quack, not to be sold,
Let our thoughts freely float.
Spring sun simmers the afternoon air,
Tickling breeze makes curious stir.
Wild ducks fool around side by side,
Leaving overlapped water rings beside.
Set a mellow yellow flower petal in to make a splash,
Pick some wild berries home, no need cash.
Hear the train whistling by,
Take a photo shot and happily sigh.
Walk along the half-remembered path by the canal home,
Sum up the courage to share this poem.
Three Word Wednesday
Cloaked Monk: (Courage )
Between the dark and the daylight
When the night is beginning to lower
comes a pause in the day’s occupations
that is known as the Children’s Hour
Dad is out of town,
Mom is talking on the phone,
Anna and Amanda playing horse back ride in the living room
When they suddenly hear a “boom”.
There is a bark outside the door,
While Anna pick up her book from the floor,
“Who can that be?”
Anna and Amanda hold hands to flee.
The day is dark outside,
Shivers make the girls’ heart beat like a drum,
It is unsafe when kids are unattended,
Glad to see them going upstairs to be with their Mom.
image credit: Monday’s Child
Sunday Scribbling (Safe)
Carry On Tuesday
The purple fairy queen
has risen above the castle to be seen
as a model carrying no sin.
To live and engage,
one must break the door of the cage
and digest the words of the sage.
Via a child’s detective eyes,
We invent magic and vampires,
creativity shall win over sins.
Haiku Heights (sin)
Image credit: Monday’s Child from soul Intention
It’s winter in my city,
My cat gives birth to a kitty.
Mother cat loves her kitten
and enjoys milk in the kitchen.
Baby cat makes curious stare
whenever her mom goes out to breathe some fresh air.
They have fun cuddling on a rocking chair
and watching trees near the window,
lonely and bare.
Friday Flash 55
From a mother to her child =>
It’s magical time of the year,
I love you, my dear,
Light up, smile, carry no fear!
From a child to one’s mother =>
Hold me tight,
Feed my soul with love and light,
Smiles, carry pride.
Alphabe-Thursday (L is 4 love and light)
Months of the year challenge – Dec
Nap now in serenity,
No New York Times news,
No nosy naughty noises.
ABC Wednesday (N is 4…)
Haiku Heights (Serenity)
Monday’s Child #17
Image from Monday’s Child
As a child,
My imagination often runs wild,
I would close my eyes
To shut off ghosts lurking near my bed,
I would roll a dice
If fears start to dominate my head.
I have read many graphic novels,
I have watched many classical films,
I have juggled marbles,
I have listened to folktales in huge volumes.
Dreams in the red chamber may be fancy,
Witches in a horror movie may be sneaky,
But a fiction is a fiction,
All fictions evoke thrill to produce addiction.
With each clash,
Upon every crash,
Children’s world is enriched in a flash,
Writer are definitely encouraged to make big flash
By letting the creative fire burn to ash.
As a child,
My imagination often runs wild.
This is a poem inspired by image at
also submitted to Poetry Pantry
Too small for U. S. Cents,
Too rare to be in historical museum,
Too heavy to make sense,
Too abstract to dwell in the hands of the child.
A shooting star soars cross the sky,
A spark flashes through the squeezing rocks,
A lightening flies by,
A basket of wool to make warm socks.
All promises freeze like ice,
All greetings ring like bells.
All gamblers focus on the dice,
All smiles ripple under the spells.
Hides behind the time that flies,
Dances in the hands that knit ties.
Hope is like the invisible air,
It makes stirs everywhere….
Monday’s Child: Monday’s Child
Poets United Poetry Pantry
Jingle Poetry Monday Poetry Potluck