writing prompt

Do you ever send whispers on the wind?

~ ~M ~ 18 Comments

Do you ever try to send whispers on the wind,
and if you do, what do you say?
Are your murmurs pleasant and cheery,
or do they come out more cold and gray?

What if everyone sent messages on the wind;
do you think we’d all feel more heard?
Imagine a chance to say all you want
and never be deferred.

I often wonder if our soft soliloquies
do sometimes make it to their intended;
to be able to pour out our hearts without reproach
seems like it would be quite splendid.

Confrontation can be so intimidating;
I often wish others could just feel my words.
Spoken sentimentalities drifting on the wind,
is it really all that absurd?

© 2022 Michelle Cook

The key

~ ~M ~ 28 Comments

Here waiting
by this old rusty door,
the key to my future
and all its splendor.

Walking through the door,
a brilliant light floods my path;
darkness dissipates behind me
as I make a mad dash.

Finally, free of all
I’ve ever known and endured,
your outstretched hand in front of me,
so gentle and concerned.

At long last, finding the place
where I belong,
wrapped in a love so tender
and yet so strong.

Your embrace whisking me
away from this world,
the depths of our desires
at last unfurled.

© 2022 Michelle Cook

Writing prompt: Here waiting by the door

Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/heart-castle-love-symbol-romantic-603214/

Wonder and wild

~ ~M ~ 19 Comments

We get ourselves up,
and the magic begins;
stretching for miles,
inspiration spins.

Winding its way
from shore to shore,
sorcery floods pages
with creativity galore.

None can get enough,
so we suck it all in,
not a single word
goes in the bin.

Ideas flow freely,
our pages complete;
every word written
a mesmerizing treat.

Images spill out
on thirsty pages;
hungrily, we feed
as momentum rages.

The mind a playground,
every heart, a child;
the results of a writer
full of wonder and wild.

© 2022 Michelle Cook

Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/child-forest-lights-magic-7035625/

Buttery biscuits

~ ~M ~ 25 Comments

Better than anything,
her cuteness makes me smile.

Underneath the maple tree,
we laugh for a very long while.

The next thing we both know,
the sun is nearing its stage to set.

Time seems like our enemy
when we realize that’s all we get.

End-of-day loveliness
stretches across the carnation sky.

Remembering the late hour,
still deferring the day’s goodbye.

Yesterday’s such as this
often leave a feeling of bittersweet.

But those memories, they fill us
on days when we’re incomplete.

Illusions of everlasting delight
remain cradled upon our chests.

So many things a mother suffers,
the losses are hard to digest.

Come what may we say in quiet,
as the years start to pass us by.

Until the end draws nearer
and we’re left with all the why’s.

It’s the not knowing that hurts the most;
the answers never found.

This life is never easy,
but we do our best to be around.

Silently we pass; still, nobody ever knows
all a mother suffers and endures
as they watch their babies grow.

© 2022 Michelle Cook

Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/mother-child-family-daughter-girl-3793521/

Writing prompt: Buttery biscuits – given to me by my very sweet daughter, Autumn Rose.

Nighttime whispers

~ ~M ~ 27 Comments

The past still beckons me,
though my future is clear.
Still, it’s hard to leave behind
all the things we once held dear.

Unfortunately, people change,
and our hearts wail in disbelief.
And those unspoken topics
are the bearers of our grief.

Woeful whispers in the night
tend to fuel my disheartened spirit.
I try to bandage my bleeding heart,
but nothing can ever cure it.

So many things I want to forget,
but there’s nothing I can undo.
So I spend my days looking for ways
to begin my life anew.

Written by, Michelle Cook

Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/illustrations/sci-fi-fantasy-moon-couple-7143964/

Writing prompt, courtesy of my hubby: Nighttime whispers.