Marveling over mushrooms

There’s a small city
I never really see,
right outside
in front of me.

It’s hidden in the glen
thickets deep,
where the clover
likes to creep.

The little city bustles
with a steady flow
of creatures so tiny
they’re hard to know.

So, at last, today,
I opened my eyes,
shook to my core
by the loveliest surprise.

A small city
I’d never really seen,
right outside,
all for me.

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: © 2021 Michelle Cook

Don’t ever put chocolate in your pocket

It was Valentine’s Day,
and he gave me a candy heart,
a chocolate-filled sweet,
with love he did impart.

And I placed that dainty morsel
in the pocket of my jeans,
the tiny tempting treasure
settled nicely in the seams.

With chocolate in my pocket,
I then went about my day,
feeling quite content
over the sentiment conveyed.

But as the day turned into night,
I realized my mistake;
that bit of chocolate in my pocket
for granted I did take.

My prize had now become
a melted memory of bliss,
forgotten in my pocket,
becoming a liquified kiss.

It reminded me of all the times
I’d let love pass through my fingers.
It seems there’s never a good way
to make deliciousness linger.

© 2021 Michelle Cook

 


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/heart-pink-ribbon-greeting-card-2448640/

Redneck Rodeo and Pink posies

I’ve sat here all day,
racking my brain;
with a prompt like this,
I may go insane.

But this is what I’ve been given,
words that will never inspire,
and I’m feeling quite desperate,
might need to conspire.

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/wildflower-girl-meadow-pink-1031520/

Writing prompt: Redneck Rodeo and Pink posies

Mad morning mayhem

The morning rush
Leaves me dizzy
Cars here n there
Everyone is busy

I just can’t focus
My nerves are shot
I loosen my tie
But still I’m hot

Not even my coffee
Is helping today
My chest is tight
The sky is gray

The air looks thick
So I hold my breath
Wonder if it’ll help
To delay my death

The day drags on
I try to stay awake
But my coffee is cold
No time for a break

I sit up straight
As the boss walks by
And when he’s passed
I cough out a sigh

The clock is ticking
Louder by the minute
There’s one more hour
But I’ve reached my limit

Finally it’s time
Adrenaline fills me up
But now there’s traffic
My shoulders slump

My grip tightens
Patience worn thin
Still in disbelief
Over the jam I’m in

I spy an opening
The sea finally parts
I almost jump for joy
As the cars begin to start

The way at last clear
I feel like I could cry
But I choke back the tears
Though I don’t know why

I at last take my place
In the race against time
Flying through intersections
Like I’m fleeing a crime

There’s one final hurdle
I’ll see home at last
Grateful to leave mayhem
In rear views past

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit:  https://pixabay.com/photos/traffic-jam-vehicles-highway-auto-3460563/

Poetry prompt:  I’ve sort of been in a slump lately when it comes to writing and decided to ask my hubby to start giving me daily prompts.  This is the first one… Mad morning mayhem.

Come play with me

Come play with me
Spend the whole day
We’ll find adventures
I’ll show you the way

Come play with me
We’ll have plenty to do
A fun day to share
Just me and you

Come play with me
Give me your hand
Let’s race to the moon
I know you’ll understand

Come play with me
There’s a secret place I know
A traipse through the forest
Is where we’ll have to go

Come play with me
Through the trees to the sea
The sound of the waves
Is sure to set you free

Come play with me
We’ll have so much fun
Let’s get going
Before the day is done

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/beach-silhouette-two-children-3374779/

Bent bristles and blended bananas

You were the bent bristles
against my skin,
causing me to rethink
the situation I was in.

Your continuous brushing
left me wanting more;
I could finally see a rainbow
peeking through my door.

The color you displayed
forever touched my heart,
and my world turned so gray
when at last, we had to part.

Sort of like blended bananas
when they’re left out all day,
their pretty yellow hue
turns the color of dismay.

And it’s so very sad
the way we both had to leave;
the mere thought
is still so hard to conceive.

But at long last,
I’m seeing color once again;
my rainbow was always here
nestled deep within.

I think I was holding on
too tight to your light
when all along,
this was really just my fight.

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit:  https://pixabay.com/photos/reflection-woman-silhouette-umbrella-1082159/

Writing prompt: Bent bristles and blended bananas

Salty succotash and pencil toppers

Pencil topper stew
just wouldn’t do,
but that was all she had
to feed her crew.

So she went to the store
to buy some beans,
but the brand she wanted
were all bursting at the seams.

So she thought for a minute
about what to do
because bursting beans
would need some sort of glue.

The corn looked good,
so she settled on that,
and then she went home
and put it all in a big vat.

By early that evening,
she had an amazing brew,
and even though a tad bit salty,
it was still a hearty stew.

Her kids were all grateful,
and with tummy’s filled to the brim,
they all settled down
to watch some Grimm.

It wasn’t very long
before the kiddies all crashed,
so she nestled them in their beds
while they dreamt of succotash.

Before long, it was her turn
to finally drift away,
catching the midnight train to dreamland;
she was at last gone on a holiday.

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/candle-extinguished-smoke-wick-2358276/

Writing prompt: Salty succotash and pencil toppers

Gibberish gents and dog-eared doohickies

I once spent a tarnished red cent
for a man who was undeniably hell-bent
on being an obnoxious
and gibberish gent.

And I knew for certain
I shouldn’t have wasted my token,
but I felt so sorry
when the man’s doohickey became broken.

To this day, I still wonder
if I’ll ever finally learn
not to let a man’s problems be
of any of my concern.

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/girl-woman-depression-3629520/

Writing prompt: Gibberish gents and dog-eared doohickies

The things I love…

I love being wrapped in the
warmth of a summer sun-ray
or doused in the drizzle
of an unexpected storm.

I love waking up to the sound
of a lazy locomotive
or finding myself lost in a dream
holding hands with the one I love.

I love listening to the whimsical
notes of wind chimes
or falling under the spell of a
tranquil, babbling brook.

I love being silly while dancing
and singing my heart out
or laughing til my stomach aches,
tasting my own tears.

I love rolling out of bed early
to behold a sunrise in full bloom
or staying up late stargazing
on a blanket spread for two.

I love feeling the warmth of soft
sand squishing between my toes
or listening to boundless waves
as they break along the shore.

I love witnessing the colorful birth
of a brand new spring season
or gazing upon a baby bird
stretching its wings for first flight.

I love watching the pure
beauty of a fresh fallen snow
or hearing the rumble of thunder
dancing across an amethyst sky.

I love thinking about all these
things, the things I truly love.
The world is such a magical place
when we choose to see the magic.

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/storm-thunderstorm-lightning-730472/

Turbulent tranquility

There she was, umbrella in hand, floating down towards the edge of a gentle stream.  At times she’d been like a whirling dervish, full of boundless energy and chaotic vigor.  And yet, at the same time, there were other occasions where the current would carry her over long, tranquil airstreams.  

She’d glide along over the endless fields, absorbing the grandeur of the picturesque valleys, which all looked more like patchwork quilts than anything else.  Then suddenly, she’d hit an air pocket and be frolicking away again, like a frenzied feather on an urgent mission.

Once touching down, she gasped, as crisp waters from a melodious little brook jarred her breezy state of mind.  Now, wide awake, she looked down at the icy waters lapping at her bare feet and wondered how she’d come to find herself in such a fantastic place.

© 2021 Michelle Cook


*This brief reflection is based on a dream I had last year.  It was the kind of dream that one never wants to wake from.  The kind that leaves your heart soaring and your mind enraptured by a carefree spirit.  I smile every time I think back on that lovely dream.  I just wanted to explore further and see where all those hills and valleys would take me.  To get lost in a dream is often such an awe-inspiring experience.  I can only hope this year will be filled with more visions like this.

Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/illustrations/woman-girl-model-umbrella-parasol-3795636/

This is my chosen place

This is my chosen place
here in this footloose space.
My niche where anything goes
cause nobody really knows
.

I can be happy, or I can be sad;
I can be the good girl or even be bad.
And people can only ever wonder
what kind of spell I’m under.

Nobody ever really knows
my story and how it all goes.
I love this unconfined space.
This is my happy place.

© 2020 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/book-landscape-nature-wind-weather-2929646/

Jumbled like Jenga

box-1209969_1280

Cardboard boxes
End to end
Will I ever see
This floor again

Jumbled like Jenga
Teetering towers
At this point I’ve got
Superpowers

Lifting, squatting,
Moving mountains
Nothing else rhymes
Except for fountains

Dizzy from exertion
I could really use a break
But my will isn’t willing
To negotiate

I’ve gotta get this done
No time to waste
Cause right now I’m feeling
So displaced

And once this is finished
I’ll have me some fun
For I’ll have earned my day
Of sitting in the sun

© 2020 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/box-memories-photos-books-1209969/

Phone zombie…

Capture

The notifications are gone
Flags all disappeared
No new email
The silence is weird

Feels almost like
The whole world is dead
As more illogical thoughts
Fill up my head

Maybe I’m crazy
Or so I’ve been told
But the quiet is depressing
When the screen has gone cold

And isn’t that the issue
The problem we all face
Think I’ve become a phone zombie
And it’s such a disgrace

© 2020 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/iphone-template-mockup-mock-up-500291/

 

Jellyfish jolts

sand-1122958_1280

Prone to misfortune
And many blunders
As her poor mind
Would often wander

She made
A terrible mistake
Of getting up
At daybreak

And she set out
To the sea
Hoping for a day
Of soaring free

But the girl’s spirit
Led her astray
As the tide swept
Her cares away

And after that first
Erroneous step
She sighed from her
Nonchalant attempt

Because one stride
Became too many
As she nearly squashed
A silver jenny

And the next footfall
Was even worse
Such an unfortunate
Squishy curse

For that jellyfish
Wasn’t missed
And that pathetic girl
Just yelped and hissed

The stinging jolt
Was quite unamusing
Leaving her foot
Swollen and oozing

The unlucky girl
Had only wanted a day
To leave her burdens
Far away

But her carefree
And heedless endeavors
Were tragically
Tainted forever

© 2019 Michelle Cook


For a month of writing prompts, click here;  Jellyfish jolts