A challenge put down by Sammi Scribbles The word is quixotic The word count is 26 It might sound like a Victorian term of quasi-illness but here's an actual definition:- impracticality in pursuit of ideals, especially those ideals manifested by rash, lofty and romantic ideas or extravagantly chivalrous action an idealism without regard to practicality... Continue Reading →
What is me? A shadow or a being? Something lost or something to be found? If at birth I am me Then once I was me But now? Who is me? If at death I am me Then I am not yet me Then what of now? Is me just a hope or dream? Something... Continue Reading →
I am my sunshine and my rain Some days it pours and other days it shines You are my sunshine and my rain Some days it pours and other days it shines
(Candy Floss Abstract - I cannot upload, process or post photos at the moment because the gremlins won. This is the photo you would be seeing). Soft, magical Spun strands Pretty pink Floating Pegged up High, out of reach Attached to the mundane (Sock dryers, of all things) Yet still fantastical Whimsical Alluring But so... Continue Reading →
TAKE ONE The rain falls Steady Other times a sudden deluge Battering But it falls Always The dream fades Weary Sometimes there's a drop of hope Brightening But it fades Anyway TAKE TWO I watch for you to breathe, wondering yet again how we got to here. What went so wrong? The night is cold... Continue Reading →
I am afraid that you're all going to have indulge me and put up with a whopping entry from me this week, I have been very good recently about respecting the word counts but this piece wanted to be a little larger. I'm not sure yet how large because I actually wrote it down by... Continue Reading →
He bit excitedly into the apple, savouring the sweet juiciness even as it dribbled down his chin. In his head, the world paused and focused on the delicious tastes and textures of the treat but his feet kept pace with the dirty, ragged shoal of boys as they twitched and swirled from one mischief to... Continue Reading →
The constant noise hammering into the soul. The shock and shudder of the whizz-bangs overhead. The overpowering stench burning in the nostrils. The seeping mud that oozed into everything. But they sat idle waiting for orders. Shortly though the word would come from up the line. The thunder of the big guns.