Bavarian cream dreams

~ ~M ~ 6 Comments

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She dreamt of sweeties
Candies galore
Along with mounds of cookies
Piled on the floor

There were licorice laces
Lying all about
And candy corns
Which had just begun to sprout

Marshmallow fluff covered
Her once boring bed
And she began to consider
If she could possibly be dead

The curtains appeared
To be made of toffee
And she wondered if someone
Had poisoned her coffee

She thought this might be heaven
Or potentially a nightmare
While tasting Bavarian cream
As it dripped from her hair

And she thought to herself
Perhaps sweet dreams really do come true
Maybe they just don’t happen
The way they seem they ought to

© 2018 Michelle Cook

For a full month of writing prompts, click here!  Bavarian cream dreams

Fight or flight?

~ ~M ~ 10 Comments

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Fight or flight?
Sink or swim?
Future successes,
Often look grim.

Shall we give up?
No, never a smidge.
Just got to find,
That golden gate bridge.

© 2018 Michelle Cook

For a full month of writing prompts, click here!  Fight or flight

Rinky Dinky

~ ~M ~ 6 Comments

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Poor ol Rinky Dinky
Was scorned for his name
But one thing it did
Was bring him great fame

And isn’t it funny
How the struggles we face
Can often turn around
To be things we embrace

© 2018 Michelle Cook

For a full month of writing prompts, click here!  Rinky Dinky

Cloudy dimensions

~ ~M ~ 4 Comments

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A world away
In the realm of reflections
Lies a cloudy array
Of peculiar dimensions

There are windows to view
Dazzling horizons
And archways which lead
To paths full of diamonds

This place of magic
Is full of shimmering light
And curious creatures soar
In and out of sight

It’s a wondrous place
So difficult to believe
And nearly impossible
For anyone to conceive

And chances are
Most will never see
All the fascinating things
Which live here so carefree

It’s just one of those places
Most will sadly never find
For you really must be
In a whimsical state of mind

© 2018 Michelle Cook

For a full month of writing prompts, click here!  Cloudy dimensions

Glass houses

~ ~M ~ 4 Comments

angry

He lived in a small glass house
Ruled by an ill-tempered wife
She strangled all his passions
And battered him with strife

But one day she struck him
A little bit too hard
And now their tiny house
Is nothing but fractured shards

© 2018 Michelle Cook

For a full month of writing prompts, click here!  Glass houses