For Cee's FOTD, August 22, 2021: See the beautiful pink hibiscus on her site! Flower of the Day Challenge (FOTD). "Please feel free to post every day or when you you feel like it. Don’t forget that my FOTD challenge accepts gardens, leaves and berries as well as flowers."
Today, make an opportunity to give someone an unexpected treat, someone who’s not expecting it, someone who’s in need of it, someone who’s outside the circle of your usual community.
As life becomes harder and more threatening, it also becomes richer, because the fewer expectations we have, the more good things of life become unexpected gifts that we accept with gratitude.Etty Hillesum (1914-1943)
For Cee's FOTD
For Cee's FOTD, June 27, 2021: See the beautiful red dahlia on her site!
Psalm 104: 10-13
You make springs gush forth in the valleys;
they flow between the hills;
they give drink to every beast of the field;
the wild donkeys quench their thirst.
Beside them the birds of the heavens dwell;
they sing among the branches.
From your lofty abode you water the mountains;
the earth is satisfied with the fruit of your work.
For Cee's FOTD, July 13, 2021
Sorry, folks, but this week’s 92-word Weekend Writing Prompt led me to the dark side. Be forewarned!
Igg! Take a look! These flowers are beautiful.
Biggest I’ve seen in any galaxy, Jaka.
Oh smell! I love the scent, Igg. The leaves are so shiny and green.
Multiple buds too, Jaka.
The gardeners must be very fine aliens, Igg.
Nothing less than perfect, Jaka.
Like angels, Igg, cultivating beauty instead of hatred, greed or deception.
Have we found Shangri-La then, Jaka, after all these years of searching?
**sound of bug spray**
[gasping] Alas, Igg. Here lies . . . our resting . . . place . . . .Good . . . bye.
For Cee's FOTD, June 12, 2021 and Sammi's WWP #213, prompt "galaxy", exactly 92 words
Seeing a rose, I once said that we stand out like that, red on green, and you reply, tongue-in-cheek, you mean like an ambulance at 3 AM in a Mississippi swamp and I shut up, crushed, like you’d said we were an accident that had been waiting to happen, as if crucial to finding the way is this: there is no beginning or end, just a screeching of brakes, a clang of metal, the jolting of bones, and then the long drawn out police report and insurance claims, a ledger of rights and wrongs, and the spindrift pages in the moonlit night where my heart spills and the nightingale vies with a shrike impaled on a thorny bush that ought to have a bloom, a rose, while someone, no one, looks for a medic to resuscitate the dead in an ambulance at 3 AM.
For Cee's FOTD