Waltzing on the wind
Dotting doorways with delight
Treasures for children
© 2021 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/shoes-laces-wood-planks-deck-2619481/
Writing prompt: Twirly birds and twinkled toes
Wild horses leap
Along flourishing meadows
Carpeted in thyme
© 2021 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/wild-horse-horse-horses-wild-4350698/
Writing prompt: Windy slopes and flying horses
Formidable signs
Illuminate the darkness
Scattering stardust
© 2021 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/ocean-starry-sky-milky-way-rest-3605547/
Writing Prompt: Battened hatches and big dippers
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
Loneliness
it comes in many forms
and I have known them all.
But I think the loneliest times
are when I’m surrounded
by a sea of expressionless faces.
Those empty-eyed, silent beings
always appear to be lost in
mind-numbing, alien-sweeping,
brain-snatching activity.
And if I stare intently enough,
focusing long and hard enough,
I can almost see those denatured
souls being surreptitiously sucked
out of every finger-tapping mortal
who has unknowingly fallen victim
to the technological advances
of our times.
It often leaves me queasy
and fearfully uneasy.
For I must admit that I too,
have fallen subject to the
interest of self-isolation
within the matrix.
Using it as a security blanket
for companionship
because community
no longer exists
within the confines
of my existence.
There are instances
when I do attempt
to turn the world around.
And with desperate breath
I try to disengage
from the illuminated rectangle
nestled nice and neat
between my pale palms.
But then loneliness sneaks in,
finding me once again.
And the screen in my hands
becomes the only life left
to be found.
© 2021 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/portrait-woman-black-and-white-2308893/
Her Writing Haven 