We can sum up our feelings
with those three little words,
but it’s the longing beneath them
that always moves me to tears.
I notice every endearing detail
in everything you say,
and it makes my heart beat
in an entirely different way.
The tone of your devoted words
leaves me dancing to their tune,
and I’m in love all over again
as morning fades to afternoon.
© 2021 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://unsplash.com/photos/BjhUu6BpUZA
Daily prompt 3, courtesy of my hubby: Morning messages
She knew she was getting closer
as the crashing of the waves
could be heard just ahead.
And with each thunderous roar,
she felt the beckoning vibrations
welcoming her home.
Those undulating arms
grew her anticipation,
each surge increasing her desire
for all she had missed.
And as the last golden mound appeared,
her excitement could hardly be contained.
For she knew in just a few more moments
she’d be dipping her eager toes
in those wonderful frothy tides.
One last hurdle was all it took,
and then a sigh and gasp broke free.
It was even more beautiful
than she’d remembered,
and a sea of gleaming diamonds
met her wondrous gaze.
The lolly she’d been enjoying
suddenly fell forgotten.
The shiny morsel deeply embedded
in the powdery sand.
The jaw-dropping scene
left her limp and bedazzled.
The setting much too impressive
for any other cares.
© 2021 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/north-sea-mother-child-boy-499030/
Writing Prompt: Lost loves and unlickable lollipops
I watched the whole lot of them,
the fence line sagging in protest.
Each smoking and joking,
eying up the classics on display.
I found the sight troublesome
knowing how boys will be boys,
and as the cigarettes wore down,
I could see their restless forms
swaggering my way.
Shivers ran down my spine
as the jostling jokers spotted my gaze,
and I tried to shrink into the backdrop,
but the prowling had already begun.
Darts of catcalling
were hurled my way,
each unsettling word,
a dagger to the innocence of my soul.
This act of playfulness reminded me
of how a lion toys with its prey,
and I knew once the hunt began,
anything left of my dignity
would not be spared.
I tried to act inconspicuously,
walking backward
one trembling step at a time.
But then the books I held
began to slide right out of my arms,
and the movement
caused a chain reaction.
Like red-flagged raging bulls,
the whole bunch
began to barrel my way.
Caught in a panic,
I tripped and fell,
but the embedded asphalt
was the least of my worries.
I tried to stand
but realized it was too late,
the pride was already circling,
waiting to pounce.
In the end, my tormentors
were too tough to deter
and all I could do was fight
with bated breath
until my virtue
no longer remained.
© 2021 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/smoking-young-people-youth-be-cool-737057/
Writing prompt: Juicy jokes and buttered books
Her Writing Haven 