3 Word Wednesday CCIV: break negative surface
the skin bleeds but
bones don’t break
it’s only surface pain
don’t let negative
touch the center
open up the vein
life is never
chocolate covered
melting in the rain
hearts muscle
keeps beating
captive in chains
Three Word Wednesday CCIII : abstain, halo, prayer
cling to prayer
from sin abstain
halo glow
amen refrain
trials may come
bringing pain
cling to prayer
solace gain
feathered wings
heaven’s rain
blessings mixed
the game is fixed
all in vain
confusion stains
but God reigns
I think this needs some work but there it is…
Three Word Wednesday CCII Grimace, Phase, Stumble
each phase of life must carry
change and also
inability to change that chafes
and blisters feet too tired
too sweet the choice that
lets us move through meadows
green and easy though
the valley waits and peace
is not around when needed
what is heavy
bows the shoulders
faces grimaced with the pain
of rain that falls like rocks
and feet that stumble
smallest stones make
blistered heels when
choice is made by
others or by life itself though
we would take a different
path the way is steep and
shadowed and we climb it
every day and night and
pray for different paths of
our own choosing often
losing sight of stars and sun
and shady trees and winter
freeze the seasons change
and so will we and burdens lifted
life unscripted dreams unsifted
we are blessed and stressed
and tested daily just
keep walking
scenery changes all life
changes all life hinges
on those phases we must go
and grow and show the
scars compare the joy
the peace the pain
the life
we gain
Three Word Wednesday CCI: Joke, Leverage, Remedy
you think that it’s a joke
but I don’t laugh I don’t
think any of it’s funny honey
you can give the reasons
every season ticking off the fingers one
by one you think it’s comedy and
I don’t have a remedy for you
the problem is too big and
you can’t see beyond your nose
I’m here I’m real
I feel that age is just a number
tied to outside
but inside leverage brains
and feelings eyes
that see the peeling
ceiling of your heart
it’s shallow you are missing
out and I won’t pout
I’ll close my eyes so I don’t see
you not seeing me
Three Word Wednesday CXCIX: Abuse, Hatred, Cramp
Leaving in the morning for Colorado and not sure how much internet access I will have so I’ll check in when I can. The Writer’s Book of Days prompts will continue to post on their own.
Aledon leaned down and stroked her neck. “Just one more pass lovely, and then we can head for home.” The golden-scaled dragon launched them from the cliff and circled around so the sun was at their back. There was smoke on the ramparts and even from the sky Aledon could hear the screams. The barbican was breached and the archers were firing repeatedly. Smoke from fires set around the walls created a haze that made it difficult for them to see. Aledon searched for Sulniara in the melee and pointed. The dragon wheeled and dove for the ground.
Aledon struck with his sword as they glided along the surface and those he missed, the dragon batted with her claws, clearing a path to where Sulniara fought, back to her horse. The dragon turned and Aledon extended his arm. “Sulniara! Jump!”
Sulniara swung her own sword one last time and grabbed for Aledon’s arm. He swung her up behind him and the dragon pounced and fled to the sky. “Look! They are on the run!”
Aledon looked where she was pointing and sure enough, Thornley’s men were retreating. Aledon saw blood on her arm. He glanced around in time to feel her slump against him. He pulled her around so he could hang on to her. “Goldensoar! Take us home!” She turned her head and her amber iris darkened and she turned north and sped through the sky. She turned through the pass between the mountains to an almost hidden lake. Goldensoar dove for the bottom and landed on the ledge that led to her cave. She knelt so Aledon could dismount, carrying Sulniara carefully to the cave. She moaned as he carefully laid her on a pile of furs near the firepit. “Damn, she has a deep slice in her side. He ripped her tunic away from the wound and tore it into pieces. He folded the pieces and pressed it against the wound to stop the bleeding. “I need herbs, damn all, Sulniara.” He bound the cloth to her and placed his hands on either side of his dragon’s face. He leaned his head against her and pictured the plant in his mind. “Go, now, lovely. Hurry!”
The dragon waddled to the cave entrance, no longer graceful on the ground. She turned one last time to look at Aledon, then left the cave. Aledon heard her take off and arranged wood for the firepit. He started the fire and poured water from his skin into a pot that hung over the pit. It would be hot by the time Goldensoar returned. He knelt next to Sulniara and brushed her black hair away from her face. He covered her with fur and went outside to wash himself in the lake. He stripped off his tunic and splashed the cool water from the lake over himself, shaking his red hair and beard. He looked around at the red streaked, jagged walls that climbed straight up. There were passages but the cave wasn’t visible from the sky. He glanced up listening for Goldensoar’s return. He could hear her cries as she circled before descending.
“Thank you, girl!” He took the herbs she clutched in her claws and hurried into the cave. Aledon stirred them into the heating water and let it boil. He tore strips of cloth and made a poultice with the herbs.
“Easy, love. This is going to hurt some.” Sulniara writhed as he placed the poultice on the wound. He bound it to her and covered her back up, noting the bruises. She had taken a lot of abuse this round. She was pale but resting easier already. His hatred of the Grey King and all he stood for hungered for revenge for Sulniara and the people that were starving under his evil reign. The first to die would be Thornley.
Goldensoar had curled up in the back of the cave and though they were not cramped, she was able to stretch her neck enough to lay her head next to Sulniara, her scales pulsing with agitation.
“She will live to fight again, lovely. For now she will sleep and I suggest we do as well.” Aledon curled up next to Sulniara so he would know if she stirred in the night. Goldensoar nudged him with her head. “Goodnight old girl.”
Three Word Wednesday CXCVIII: bait, jump, victim
Carefully shopping for each item on his list took time and research. People who were expert had to be approached carefully so they wouldn’t suspect what he was about. He had worked all week on his plans and was certain he was ready. He donned all the special gear, he packed all his tools and slipped out in the pre-dawn darkness. He could hear his own breathing in the silence. He closed the car door with a quiet little snick and winced as the sound of the engine catching pierced the quiet. He eased out of the driveway and went to what would be the site of his victim’s last appearance. He was patiently waiting for the bait to be taken and when it finally happened he was so tense, sweating in the humid dawn, that he jumped and almost lost control of the situation.
At last the job was complete and he packed up, making sure he left no clue that he had disturbed the serenity of the solitary place. One last glance around and savoring the feeling of triumph, he headed home. He quietly eased back into the house and put everything away. He started the coffee pot and when the aroma had filled the house, his wife stumbled to the kitchen in her robe and slippers.
“Hey there sleepy head.” He smiled and kissed her on the forehead handing her a cup.
“How did it go?” She asked after yawning.
“Look in the sink!” He pointed, his face saying everything.
There resting in all it’s glory, was a twelve pound bass.
Three word Wednesday CXCVII
gentle, praise, vulgar
the wind it sings a lullaby
and tells me where it’s been
and though my body sleeps below
my soul as if on gentle wings
takes to the air where souls will sing
all gathered in amongst the stars
from all the corners of the earth
sing loudest harmonies
of praises to the one who made
us all and as we gather
angels watch in silence til
the dawn is raised in chorus
no vulgar words can ere compete
with glory blowing through the night
amid among around and round
through starshine moonshine
raining down as softly
as a mothers touch
each soul arrives back home and then
earth gravity settles all to stir
in waking heartbeats
memories pure
of nightsongs heard not
through the day but
we will once again be free
when sunsets pillowed wrapped
in quilts of deepest blue and
purple take us to
the midnight chorus once again
where we will soar in majesty
Three Word Wednesday cxcvi acrid bane tepid
Hello from a motel in Opelousas 
chocka chocka chocka
road seams keeping time
wheels turn wheels turn
taking me to and away
miles and miles of separation
mind numbing vibration
other lives not chosen
distance closing
change is coming
I am going home
other eyes other hands
trailing memories in my wake
what to take
and what to leave behind
years of days good times passing
in between the standing still
seconds ticking moments picking
what to choose what to lose
the pieces of
puzzle unfinished
would have wished for
less or more
a closing door
while I would throw
the window open
acrid smell of smoking
ashes burned up past
I cast aside the tide
the trees the sands of
dream stuff trickled
through my fingers
scent that lingers in
my hazy waking thoughts
we fought but kept
the peace the signs
were there
the choice we bear
hours of discussion
scenery keeps on rushing
past the kudzu frosting
we are lost in
separate but together ties
that bind us
still remind us
of the roads that swallow
up the miles
that start as inches
late night conversations
day to day familiar
obligations passions cooled
to tepid hesitation
future is a blacked out game
wishful thinking
all a bane
eternal as the pines and rain
I hold my breath a beat
or two
fingertip to fingertip
I walk with you
Three Word Wednesday cxciii: erase, meadow, trace
Jae sank down to the ground. She whimpered. “Too much! Too much!” She buried her nose in the dirt but even that was alive with a million scents. Aedan stopped and turned toward her. His voice in her head, with all the night sounds. He spoke over all the sounds and the invisible string from his voice attached itself to something deep in her.
She joined with the pack, erasing all trace of confusion. She took a few steps and whined again. One of the others nipped at her hind quarters and before she could react, Aedan was between her and the offending wolf. She looked on from the side as Aedan stared at the wolf, hackles bristling. He stood silent and proud while the other wolf rolled onto its back, exposing it’s throat. Aedan stared for a moment and then walked away. Jae turned and followed close behind.
The meadow was bathed in moonlight. It made the silver tips of Aedan’s fur glow. Aedan stopped and turned to look at her. She hesitated, filled with the night and the strangeness. She lowered her body, arched her back and tucked her tail. She would trust him to keep her safe.
Three Word Wednesday cxcii hidden noble roam
Mackenzie curled up on the swing on the back porch with her book. The swing creaked and if you moved wrong you would get splinters, but it was her favorite place. Ever since Mom dropped her off at gram’s six years ago, the swing was her refuge. Gram knew that if she was sideways on the swing with her legs up, clutching the blue and yellow cotton pillow, it was “leave me alone” time.
In the summer, she sat on the swing while Gram sat in the rocking chair, both with metal pans on their lap, snapping beans. Mackenzie loved those times. Gram told stories. When it rained, Mackenzie would sit on the swing and listen to the water pelting the tin roof.
When they got the news that Mackenzie’s Mom wouldn’t be coming back, she stayed on the swing all day, not speaking. Gram brought the blue and yellow pillow to her then and it had stayed on the swing ever since. Everyone should have a place. This was hers. Gram always understood.
It was hers, except at night, that is. Mackenzie never ever went outside at night. Not even to the porch. Gram said things were hidden in the dark. Mackenzie knew she was right. She had seen them roaming in the shadows of the woods behind the house. They were never clear, too dark in the shadows. She saw enough. Gram said the noble spirits lived up in the high places. In the summer they walked up into the hills and Gram was teaching her to see.
“Quiet your mind Mackenzie. Really look, not just at what you expect to see. See past the shadows. Tell me what you see.” That had been a good session. The best.
“Mackenzie, your mother would be proud of you.” They were walking back down the hill and stopped at a waterfall. It was warm and they sat on a ledge and stuck their feet in the cool water.
“”I miss her.”
“I know you do, but you have grown into a lovely young woman and you have been a good student. You are stronger than she was, stronger than me. When we get back to the house, I have something for you.”
“And I guess you aren’t going to tell me what it is?” Mackenzie smiled. Gram liked to tease her.
“No but the longer we sit here, the longer it will be til you know.”
They put their shoes back on and headed down the hill. “Wait here.” Gram went into the house. When she came back she had a stick in her hand. It was carved and about a foot in length. “Gram, it’s beautiful!”
“It was your mother’s. When her body was found, they sent it to me. I kept it until you were ready.”
She handed MacKenzie the wand and sat down next to her on the swing. “For the last two nights I have seen a Bodach in the woods behind the house. If you are left here alone there are things you need to know. I’ve taught you what I can.”
“Gram, I can’t even think! No, you must have been mistaken. Here. Take it back!”
“No. Listen to me. She took a red ribbon out of her pocket and placed her hand on the wand with Mackenzie. She wound the ribbon around and around the wand. With each wind she spoke the words, “The power of Rowan protects me and thee.”
“I love you granddaughter.” Mackenzie shook her head.
“I will not let anything happen to you.” Mackenzie put her hand on her grandmother’s cheek.
“We don’t choose, when my time comes it comes. I don’t think anything will happen in the next few minutes though so why don’t we get ready for bed. I’m an old woman you know and that trek up the hill today wore my old bones out.”
Mackenzie frowned. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, child. Come on. Let’s go to bed!”
Mackenzie’s sleep was restless. She tossed and clutched at the blankets. She woke up just before dawn. A crow cawed from a branch outside her window. Mackenzie sat straight up and shivered. With the feeling of dread building with every step, she padded to her grandmother’s room, her bare feet cold on the floor. “Gram?”
She stepped through the door, no snoring, no sound at all. “Gram?” She went to the bed and knew even before she touched her. She was gone. “Oh Gram. No.” She crawled up onto the bed next to her and smoothed her gray hair. She cried until there was nothing left but gulping sobs. What was she going to do now? She was not ready to be alone. The sun was high before she got up and wiped her face. She slowly went about washing and putting on clothes. She looked in the mirror and started to cry again.”You look like you’re ready. You’re a mess!” she told the reflection bitterly. She washed her face again and went out to the back porch. She took the shovel and headed to the path at the base of the hill. There was a small grove of trees there. She began to dig the grave.
Three Word Wednesday CXCII budge, nimble, theory
been feeling kind of dry lately. Here’s to summer and energy and creativity!
winter soul is
dark and dry
cracked and peeling
strips and scraps
hidden in a penumbra
of busyness
no amount of scraping
or searching
will budge the edges
hedged in ragged
bowed head in
a cold wind
wound around
choking smoking
theories clearly
sloughed off like so
much dead bark
dried leaves crumbled
breeze
soft morning air
heavy dew
summers breath
rains down and fills
crevasses and crannies
nooks and corners
step out into the
light of day
drink it in
nimble thoughts
race through pastures
glaciers gone
white to blue
green to new
draped in color
teeming streaming
abounding reach
out to pick lush
fruit
Three Word Wednesday CXCI Abandon Precise Gradual
unable to remember
the precise moment
the turning
was it a point
a corner
a missed sign
a line crossed
so gradual
so bad you will
not notice not see
the change in direction
just shadows on
the wall we all need
protection from repercussions
choices abandoned
a hand on a shoulder
wiser older prone to thinking
not jumping not sinking
into sand it’s quicker
but stop and look
before you leap
keep the bones they
are not broken and
neither are you just
turn again you never
know where it will
take you for ever
is a long time to regret
forget heavy thoughts
you bought the atlas
turn the pages sages
don’t know everything
it’s just pretty pictures
little songs to sing don’t cling
to past mistakes just
shake it off and cross
it off the list the wish
the yesterday is gone
weighed down
in sleep awake
and take a chance
dance
