Foaming oceans and secret potions

Foamy, translucent blue swells
give birth to an abundance of tiny seashells.

A few find their path and scuttle away,
but many more find themselves lost in the vast array.

The stranded ones lie in crevices hoping they’ll be found
before the savage sea pounds them into the ground.

A few get noticed by curious little hands,
but most get tossed back into the abrasive sand.

The ones that survive are mostly made of pristine perfection
while the others bide their time in a constant state of rejection.

Silently they wish for secret potions that do not exist,
at last being pulled under, lost to the murky mist.

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/water-surf-nature-sea-wave-ocean-3194377/

Writing prompt: Foaming oceans and secret potions

Lost loves and unlickable lollipops

She knew she was getting closer
as the crashing of the waves
could be heard just ahead.
And with each thunderous roar,
she felt the beckoning vibrations
welcoming her home.
Those undulating arms
grew her anticipation,
each surge increasing her desire
for all she had missed.
And as the last golden mound appeared,
her excitement could hardly be contained.
For she knew in just a few more moments
she’d be dipping her eager toes
in those wonderful frothy tides.
One last hurdle was all it took,
and then a sigh and gasp broke free.
It was even more beautiful
than she’d remembered,
and a sea of gleaming diamonds
met her wondrous gaze.
The lolly she’d been enjoying
suddenly fell forgotten.
The shiny morsel deeply embedded
in the powdery sand.
The jaw-dropping scene
left her limp and bedazzled.
The setting much too impressive
for any other cares.

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/north-sea-mother-child-boy-499030/

Writing Prompt: Lost loves and unlickable lollipops

Juicy jokes and buttered books

I watched the whole lot of them,
the fence line sagging in protest.
Each smoking and joking,
eying up the classics on display.
I found the sight troublesome
knowing how boys will be boys,
and as the cigarettes wore down,
I could see their restless forms
swaggering my way.
Shivers ran down my spine
as the jostling jokers spotted my gaze,
and I tried to shrink into the backdrop,
but the prowling had already begun.
Darts of catcalling
were hurled my way,
each unsettling word,
a dagger to the innocence of my soul.
This act of playfulness reminded me
of how a lion toys with its prey,
and I knew once the hunt began,
anything left of my dignity
would not be spared.
I tried to act inconspicuously,
walking backward
one trembling step at a time.
But then the books I held
began to slide right out of my arms,
and the movement
caused a chain reaction.
Like red-flagged raging bulls,
the whole bunch
began to barrel my way.
Caught in a panic,
I tripped and fell,
but the embedded asphalt
was the least of my worries.
I tried to stand
but realized it was too late,
the pride was already circling,
waiting to pounce.
In the end, my tormentors
were too tough to deter
and all I could do was fight
with bated breath
until my virtue
no longer remained.

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/smoking-young-people-youth-be-cool-737057/

Writing prompt: Juicy jokes and buttered books

Say goodbye to the war

Detach and draw away
Under the covers
Cold and gray
Endure the cycle of decay
Bury your head
And fill it with dismay

These are the fallacies
We choose to believe
Filling up our heads
Causing us to grieve
Not even worth repeating
Such thoughts are just defeating

So push through and release
While all your troubles
Beg to increase
Say goodbye to the war
The one that’s hidden
Behind your door

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit:  https://pixabay.com/photos/cold-frost-winter-the-disease-2722002/

Self-preservation

I’ve been trying inside to heal
Trying less and less to feel
Having the sudden notion
To shut down every emotion
Slipping farther n farther away
Into the great and vast array
Sitting pretty, proud, and poised
Blocking out the senseless noise
Giving up the pointless need
To let others see me bleed
My pen and paper are enough
No need for feelings on my cuff
This world needn’t know
Where all my sorrows go
With nobody standing in my way
I’ll stand tall for another day
Lips pursed and fists held tight
They’ll never know my inner fight

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/people-woman-girl-standing-alone-2569004/

Something to cling to…

Amid the chaos
of our cluttered world,
sometimes we have only
but a past moment,
something distinctly different
from all the other colorless days.
And that one solitary moment,
the one we treasure
with fondness and love
gives us something to cling to
when we can no longer see
a single thread of light.
Those rare moments exist
to reassure us during the times
when the dark dares
to snuff out our light.
That one blessed memory
is often what unexpectedly
sees us through.

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/black-and-white-monochrome-people-2590418/

All grown up…

For many years,
I played all the games,
and I continued to play
while the fun lasted.

But winning got old
when nobody was left
to see me win, so in the end
I gave up playing.

I know you’re probably
still playing all the games,
and that’s great,
I hope you are.

But for me, I think I’m
too grown up for games,
so I’m leaving all the wins
to you.

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/converse-classic-retro-vintage-2485685/

Writing prompt: Spoiled brats and games like that

I remember that day…

I remember the way the branches
curled towards me that day,
the way they swayed to and fro.
It was something
beautifully unexpected,
a miracle of nature,
a divine curiosity.
And I remember standing there
in wide-eyed awe,
losing myself
to the sheer loveliness,
lost in a state
of childlike wonder.
Chills crept down my spine
in delightful little bits,
and goosebumps erupted
as a plethora
of tingling sensations
washed over me
from head to toe.
But the thrill
wasn’t meant to last,
and after one breathless sigh
I blinked,
and the exquisite array vanished.
That was when
the heaviness began to gather
at my feet,
and an unforeseen darkness
approached from a place
I’d never been.
As the winds altered
their direction,
everything changed.
And the wondrous splendor
of that unforgettable day
is still nowhere to be found.

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo taken: July 10, 2020 in Milton, WI