thoughts

Brimstone Brew

~ ~M ~ 12 Comments

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Round the cauldron
They all took turns
Blathering their opinions
Cackling their concerns

A quadrivial group
Gossiping away
Nothing but prattle
In which to say

Their brimstone elixir
Fizzled and bubbled
But after listening to their words
The concoction grew troubled

Then with a sudden eruption
And an unforeseen flash
Those four old biddies
Well they all turned to ash

And all anyone can relay
About that unspeakable day
Is that their beloved potion
Must have had some repressed emotion

A reminder to be careful what you say. 😉

© 2018 Michelle Cook

For a month of writing prompts, click here; Brimstone brew

Isn’t it true?

~ ~M ~ 13 Comments

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Isn’t it true
There’s a writer in you?

Can’t you see
All you’re meant to be?

Why would you be here
If this weren’t true?

Best get to writing
It’s expected of you.  😉

© 2018 Michelle Cook

Stolen heart

~ ~M ~ 13 Comments

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Intense longing
Is what I used to feel
For what he took
Was not his to steal

He ran away
My heart in hand
Makes me wonder now
If this was always his plan

Good riddance to you
Is what I now say
I never needed
My heart anyway

For who wants or needs
The potential to be broken
Should have thrown it away
Before it became his token

© 2018 Michelle Cook

Defenseless

~ ~M ~ 12 Comments

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The burden he bore
Gave no time for refute
He’d been given a job
One could not dispute

And poor Lady Jane
In her ashen condition
Seemed far beyond
Any hope of volition

Not a single wish
Could change her fate
The course was set
Her breath too late

And the Lady in wait
Sorrowfully reclined
Pearls in hand
No peace of mind

The room stood still
As time captured the end
Poor Lady Jane
Not a soul would defend

© 2018 Michelle Cook

Photo credit:  https://www.wikiart.org/en/paul-delaroche/the-execution-of-lady-jane-grey-1833

 

Purple Plasma

~ ~M ~ 13 Comments

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I managed to lose him in the purple fog
Against a dull gray view
He’d been sullen all day long
And suddenly withdrew

Without a single cognitive word
His mind trailed away from me
And there he still sits catatonic and drooling
In front of his most cherished plasma sea

© 2018 Michelle Cook

For a month of writing prompts, click here; Purple plasma