Howdy! :)
Today's prompts: crow, blanket, misunderstanding.
Folded Wings ..
The raucous cry of a nearby crow shatters the solemn peace;
The evening sun releases soft ribbons of its golden yellow rays
As it slowly disappears behind the heavy blanket of grey clouds.
They were all gathered in a circle around the little grave,
Whispered prayers and sobs escaping the trembling lips ..
One handful of dirt after another, falling on the wooden box.
The weeping mother hunkers down, frail from grief
She calls out to God, to her departed child
Pleads for a bit of mercy, a glimmer of light in the bitter darkness.
Little Maria stands in her mother’s shadow, clinging to the black skirt
Her little brown eyes - gentle pools of love and light and compassion
Heaps of dirt fall on her little casket, slowly burying it in dark earth
She watches on, her little angel wings folded …
(http://i75.photobucket.com/albums/i285/Lucise/Prvy/3c796caf.jpg)
Howdy! :)
Folded Wings ..
............
Little Maria stands in her mother’s shadow, clinging to the black skirt
Her little brown eyes - gentle pools of love and light and compassion
Heaps of dirt fall on her little casket, slowly burying it in dark earth
She watches on, her little angel wings folded …
Aww, Thank You M, Sad day all over, wasn't it? :(
Beautiful poem, and picture too.
:)
Marl
This a wierd drabble, but I have my wierd moments. Don't ask me where it came from, lol, it just did ..
(Another party theme here Marl .. ;) )
A Toast ..
"They were both eighteen. Keera was a buoyant spirit – a flower-power, incense-burning, pot-smoking, love-making, proud lesbian hippie. She had the unshaved legs and armpits; and the colourful station wagon to prove it if anyone ever questioned her beliefs. Camille was a reserved, shy farm girl from the prairies who was more likely to be at the library on a Friday night than hanging around the hotspot in town, clad in mini-skirts and tube tops like the rest of us..
How these two ever managed to become fast friends is beyond me, but they stroke up an unusual friendship and became practically inseparable after only about a month. We all figured out that they were doing it when we’d see the two of them emerging from Keera’s love-mobile at odd times of the day; their clothes all rumpled and ‘just-got-laid’ looks written all over their guilty faces. Too bad Keera ditched that station wagon a few years ago.
Still, I'm sure the backseat was in shreds when it ended up in the junk yard .. ;)
Today is a very special day; a day to celebrate the beautiful union of these two lovebirds. This occasion is long overdue because these two have loved, supported and cared for each other for half their lives. There are no two people I’d rather be best friends with … So .. A Toast to the gorgeous brides – Keera and Camille –
‘Here’s to two sweethearts, two lovers, two friends;
To fun, passion, desire and love that never ends.
Here’s to good health and never-ending prosperity;
Two souls, one journey – may love abound for eternity .."
(http://i75.photobucket.com/albums/i285/Lucise/Prvy/21bbe501.jpg)
Another dabble today .. :)
Never Alone ...
She loved everything about him –
His easy-going, live and let live attitude,
His little romantic gestures,
His disarming smile,
The ways he knew to cheer her up
Whenever she fell into one of her moods …
Sure, he didn’t own a car or a house
Or the latest fashions in clothes and shoes,
But he was perfect, just the way he was.
He was like her twin soul –
His flame raged deep within her being,
Beyond the reach of prying parents
Or intrusive neighbors and nosy friends.
It was a solid bond neither of them could define ..
He joined the army after school,
He’d always longed to serve, like his father did.
He was shipped out two years later,
Two weeks after the wedding ceremony.
There’d barely been time for a honeymoon
But alas – such was the life of a man in service.
A month later, she got a letter;
A shorter one arrived few months after that.
He’d caught tuberculosis
But he was recovering well.
Another few months passed, no letters came;
She made a cake on his 23rd birthday;
And lit a candle for him.
That day, his effects were delivered in a box.
He was not coming home -
Something about a bullet in the chest
And two in the back …
She’d collapsed; soon after, the labor pains began.
He had those familiar green eyes she loved so much ..
She named him Rene, which meant ‘reborn’.
She only opened the box a few weeks later.
With trembling hands,
She pulled out his black, leather-bound diary
And turned to the last entry, her vision now blurry ..
Four lines in black ink, scribbled in the familiar handwriting :
“I think today might be it, can’t seem to shake it..
I will die with you in my heart, in my soul, never alone.
If she’s a girl, name her Renata, if he’s a boy name him Rene..
With all my love and a kiss, yours for always .. xo James ..”
(http://i75.photobucket.com/albums/i285/Lucise/Prvy/cb0e2038.jpg)