(A retelling of the story of Abraham and Isaac)
A weary journey, a wakeful night,
They left their camp before daylight
An old man carrying the weight of years
Wrinkled cheeks wet with tears
At hearing the young boy at his side
Prattle on with childish pride
That he alone had been chosen
To help his father on this mission.
Concerning Paradise
we can’t go back again
said Adam to Eve
There’s Cain, there’s Abel
We’ll start all over again
Make it good this time
Abel’s dead by Cain’s hand
Paradise lies unattained
Eve said, my garden’s now a grave
Something greater lies ahead
Pride and death no more a stain
On this broken earth
With their dying eyes they saw
A bridge to life regained
The Son lifted up, reconciling God and man
For Eugi’s Weekly Thursday Prompt “paradise”; and Cee’s FOTD Challenge; click on the links and join in!
Andrea watched as the trailer rig pulled into their lot. This was a new beginning, for them and their children.
She turned to look for George who was standing by a small creek looking lost.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she whispered in his ear. “You’re wondering why we lived like kings for so long when we could have been happy as paupers like now.”
“I never meant you to have to start over like this.” His voice broke. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey! We’re bankrupt, not dead. And all I need is the air that I breathe and to love you.”
genre: fiction; word count: 100; Rochelle Wisoff-Fields kindly invites us to join the Friday Fictioneers in their weekly creative quests of a hundred words or less. Photo prompt © Ted Strutz. Click on the frog and join in!
Oceans away from me in India, doctors mark the dead, the funeral pyres burn ceaselessly. Just yesterday I heard India has become the first country to exceed 400,000 coronavirus infections in a 24-hour period. More than 3,500 deaths were also recorded during the same period.
Wayward my fluttering thoughts fly across the seas
Distracted with worry for friends and family;
Yet borne on anxious wings my prayers fly straight to Thee,
O God, pleading Thy compassionate mercy.
Out of the depths I cry to you, O LORD!
O Lord, hear my voice! Let your ears be attentive to the voice of my pleas for mercy!
Psalm 130: 1-2
For Cee's FOTD challenge; Eugi's Weekly Prompt ("flutter") for April 29, 2021; Sammi's Weekend Writing Prompt, "Wayward," word count exactly 77 words.
April days are numbered to thirty
May arrives like a flight of doves ethereal
The iris struggles to hold on to green
My heart beats in purple petals
Breathless to catch the dew
So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.
Psalm 90: 12
Check out more flower photography at Cee’s FOTD challenge for May 1, 2021. Join in!
Even before these events transpired, my barrista, the summum bonum of my life, divined them in the grinds.
She summoned me (“Bertie”), supplied my ususal combustible concoction, and intoned, “Enjoy.”
It wasn’t what she said but the way she said it.
“Rad, Jeeves, what ho!” said I.
As I blew out the door, winds exceeding 90 mph blew through the Savannah café. I landed down the road on Aunt Agatha’s bulldog, Horatio, who was as pleased to see me as a vulture on resurrection day.
My espresso, as predicted, survived. Extricating myself from Horatio, I took a sip. I enjoyed.
genre: fan fiction; word count: 100; Rochelle Wisoff-Fields kindly invites us to join the Friday Fictioneers in their weekly creative quests of a hundred words or less. Photo prompt © Dale Rogerson Click on the frog and join in!
If I had more arms to reach You
Would that help? But You say,
Two will do now
To reach my neighbor.
“This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you.
John 15:12
Check out more flower photography at Cee’s FOTD challenge for April 25, 2021
I’ve dotted my ‘i’s
and crossed my ‘t’s
restless
for a spot of afternoon tea
in my garden retreat
Disclaimer: This photo’s from my neighbor’s garden. So many of my neighbors are dedicated gardeners and it’s a pleasure to admire their lovely gardens on my walks. I have no garden, but a lovely balcony. It’s good for a spot of tea too!
In the sky through the clouds you can see silver haze
Dispersed like the sheen of a dragon of steel
Look too long and you’ll swear that your gaze
Is returned and the dragon above sees its prey.
Do not run, do not hide, or you’ll be her next meal
Say charms, not too loud, dance a jig, maybe two
If the fear in your eyes, it can see, it can feel
Then no magic on earth can save you or save me
As she comes, whisper soft, murmur tales of lost love
Spin dreams of a land where a knight stays true blue
Melt her heart, let her eyes fill with tears, and above
Your bent head she will breathe not her fire, but her cheer.
Then your heart it will swell, you will ask all you will,
Deep lore of the earth, wondrous songs of the sea
All to you she’ll impart, from her lips it will spill
Then she’ll fly to her lair over clouds over moons.
BJÖRN RUDBERG at dVerse challenges us today to write our verse in Anapestic Tetrameter, and so I’ve attempted, with a dropped syllable in each quatrain’s second line. See more dVerse offering and join in by clicking on Mr. Linky.
The Doldrums of Diku had arrived at the museum
Silently they stood as we gazed open-mouthed at them.
Gifts from advanced space aliens shouldn’t be met with rebuff
So we studied each stony structure with all the right stuff.
From blue to pink they’d change and then back again
Interstellar modern art of singularly useless distraction.
Then came the day the eggs cracked down the middle
But excitement had waned and no one cared a fiddle
As if the Doldrums of Diku had weighed down our spirits
Till what once would have thrilled, now just bored us to pieces.
genre: fantasy; word count: 99; Rochelle Wisoff-Fields very kindly invites us to join the Friday Fictioneers in their weekly creative quests of a hundred words or less prompted by a photo. Click on the frog and join in!
