A Fairy Christmas

A chilly breeze, the mistletoe sways.

A brush of wings…

Fairies may have passed your way.



A glitter dusting, a playful sigh.

A merry heart…

Christmas fairies might be nearby.



A blanket of snow, where daisies grew.

Take a close look…

A friendly fairy might be there with you.



A shiny bright star, in the night sky.

Shines on a pixie…

Seen out of the corner of one’s eye.



I love holiday fairies, it’s true I do.

Merry Christmas! Happy Holiday’s!

And I hope you love all my jolly fairies too.



I’ve had a candy-themed Christmas tree for the past few years.

So, I thought I would shake things up this year and have a

fairy Christmas. I made sock gnomes and fairies from dolls

to go along with my resin fairies. I repainted my garden troll

statues that had lost their paint from the weather.

I had them outside around a pond several years ago.

I made a cardboard paper and moss-covered tree collar

and brought in some tree pieces from the woods behind our house.

I made plastic wings out of clear file folders and painted and

glittered them. I bought a few new things but made most everything.

It took me several weeks to get it all done but I love the results and

all the fairies. I hope you enjoy the pictures and the poem.



Merry Christmas,

Vicki

The Kiss

Have you kissed a lion’s face?
Maybe one that’s unaware…
His tears seem so out of place.
I’ve had the lion’s share…
I know he wishes he’d been there more.
For his granddaughter along the way.
Wishes you hadn’t heard him roar…
When there were words left to say.
Most of the time we are right here…
With the living — until we slip away.
Until we feel the overwhelming feeling, you’re near.
I can’t help but think… you kissed a lion’s face today.


Photo: Source

For Lauren the lion, we love and miss you so much!

https://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/

Self-reflection

Self-reflection on my churning thoughts.

Sometimes from the Jagged edge.

Organizing words from the mysteries within,

and jotting them down like a poet’s solemn pledge.

I’ve started a journey of self-reflection…

Noting what I’m going through today.

Making and following through on resolutions,

And it’s not even New Year’s Day.


For "The Sunday Muse"
Photo: Source
https://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/

Expect a Masterpiece

If I could talk to a younger self…
Send a message about what really matters.
I’d say — “Don’t worry about the messy brushstrokes,
splotches, and the splatters.”

“Don’t lose faith and focus.”
“The blunders are part of the art.”
I’d say — “The master artist tells us all is forgiven,
“If we allow him in our heart.”

I’d say — “Forgive and ask for forgiveness,
while the paint is still wet.”
I’d say — “Expect a masterpiece.”
“ The master artist isn’t finished with you yet.”


For The Muse

Photo: Source

https://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/

He will be regal

He will be regal.

He

saunters softly.

Elegantly

walks the floor.

Arrogance

fills the air.

Fur flies

with the sporting

of the ruff.

With

a staring gaze

He

strikes the pose.

He is regal.

For the Muse

Photo: Source

https://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/

Haiku

Her panic arrived

Like a sudden summer rain

Drenching decisions

Photo: Josiel Miranda from Pexels.

For the Muse #53

https://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/

Why is it remembered?

Why is it remembered?
Sometimes an insignificant moment in time.
Not especially happy, sad or life-changing.
Nevertheless, it is remembered as if it were yesterday.
Like being four years old eating jelly toast.
Made by momma in her pink and black tiled kitchen.


Photo: Unsplash

For The Sunday Muse.
Exactly 44 words

https://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/

A Celebration of Color

A celebration of color.
Emits a meditative sense of calm.
A prism of light radiating hope.
I could sit in a quiet empty chapel…
Feel the window wash over me.
Let the intensity of the stained glass…
Uplift and enlighten my soul.

For The Sunday Muse #51

https://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/

"It's Your Lucky Day Spa"

I’m relaxing on a luxurious bed in a semi-private room at the “It's Your Lucky Day Spa”.
The last thing I remember, it was dusk and I was on the final stretch of a trail located in
The Great Smokey Mountains. I slowly pull the warm towel down past my right eye. Lying on the bed across the room is a very pretty lady covered in a glowing body mask. On closer inspection, I’m also lavishly covered in the radiant substance. Betty the owner is, in fact, a lightning bug. She is tall and slender and walks around on a pair of her six legs. Betty has beautiful wings but her abdomen is her best feature. She clearly works out on a regular basis and the flirty flicker from her abdomen proves it. She’s one beautiful beetle and she rejuvenates your body and mind with lightning speed. That is what it says on the salon menu framed on the wall. She tells me “I do declare you have wonderful skin and you are as cute as a button”. I am flattered and can feel my face flush a little. There are two hair stylists in the next room. They are lovely young ladies cutting and perming hair while gossiping with their clients. Apparently, Rosa one of the patrons is having hard times with her husband Tom of twenty years. Hannah the stylist and Rosa are hashing through all the sorted details and Rosa seems relieved to have Hannah listen to her.  Another stylist Rita walks into the room to ask Betty where she has stashed the extra perm solution. “Don’t have a hissy fit, honey, It’s in the bottom row of cabinets on the right” squeaks Betty. And with those words from Betty, I’m off the trail at my car in the parking lot. I notice my skin is radiant and glowing and does, in fact, feel rejuvenated. I have a ravenous craving for a slimy slug or perhaps a worm or snail. Under the windshield wiper blade is a flyer for the “It’s Your Lucky Day Spa” with a twenty percent off coupon for a service of your choice and a lovely photo of Betty.

This was fun, I'm not sure I mastered the prompt at all though.

Telling Tales with Magaly. #2 Magical Realism.

Photo: Getty Images

Cherry Blossoms

She sits in the bay window seat...
Look’s out at the lush garden.
Watches the wind erase pink cherry blossoms,
From the lush green canvas.
Knees drew to her chest…
She paints her toes black cherry chutney.
Thumbs through her flower catalog,
While she waits for them to dry.



Photo: Unsplash

For the Wednesday Muse #2


I love cherry blossoms and we were lucky to have

gone to a cherry blossom festival in South Korea

several years ago. A gorgeous sight.

My Soul Place

I feel calm amongst the chaos on your shore.

I feel the pull of your force.

I know it's time to visit my soul place.

I know it’s time to feel the sea spray on my face.


For Toni. The Wednesday Muse. #1
https://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/

Bitten

My parents were bitten by the collecting bug.

Searching for the next thrilling treasure.

Most with musty smells and sticking drawers...

But I could tell it gave them pleasure.

They never had an old crank phonograph,

But an out of tune piano sat in a room.

I would bang the keys on that old thing…

Until the spirits were freed from its tomb.

 There was a strange framed print of a girl,

With a wreath of flowers above her head.

It hung on the wall at the end of the hall…

Thank goodness it didn’t hang over my bed.

A grand chandelier cleaned and rewired,

Hung with pride from the living room ceiling.

After weeks of eerie flickering at night…

Taking it down was a mutual feeling.

I miss my parents and their antique quest.

I think I’ll go find an aisle to rummage through.

Let memories of yesterday flood my heart…

And find a vintage piece painted robin egg blue.

When I was a child my parents collected and refurbished,

antiques for many years. This photo brought back so many memories.

Thanks for the prompt, Carrie.

For “The Sunday Muse” and “Poets United”.

Photo: Pexels/Skitterphoto

Green-eyed Monster

I’m not a green-eyed monster.
But my green tea addiction is a bit bizarre.
Some men find I’m a bit unusual… hah!
I’ll never be a pixie captured in a jar.
You gotta love my bird, Mike… my schmoopsie-poo.
The proud Wazowski isn’t going anywhere.
Still interested? Please understand…
Next week I might have pink or purple hair.
I like to shake things up – I’m a proud oddball.
But it doesn’t make me an alien from Toy Story.
So, if you think I’m not a catch… just keep swimming.
Cause the next time you see me, I might look like Dory.

Photo: Source

For The Sunday Muse

https://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/

I hope your weekend has been wonderful. I have started making fun and whimsical table centerpieces for our sons Disney themed wedding this year. So, it's a litttle hard to think of anything else right now... lol. Have a great day and week.

Leave the City

Discovering a flower farm.
Savoring the warmth of the sun,
Illuminating a rainbow of petals…
In the bed of an old work truck. 
I stood there as if I were still nine.
Not moving an inch.
I suddenly felt…
No, I always felt whenever I was around flowers,
Like I had just inhaled…
An exhilarating breath of fresh air.
Just one of the many reasons to leave the city.


For the Sunday Muse

Photo: Source

https://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/

Emergency Alert

Emergency Alerts

Emergency Alert!

This is your emergency alert system.

The world is experiencing an outbreak.

There has been a sudden increase in kindness.

Kindness is expected to spread worldwide.

People are being kinder to themselves.

Everyone is being kinder to family, friends, and strangers.

Even the unkindest hearts around the world have been inspired.

Every soul is expected to surrender to kindness soon.

The outbreak is said to have started with an explosion of smiles.

This giving and receiving of kindness will never be forgotten.

Stay tuned to the Emergency Alert System for updates.



I really do believe there is so much kindness in the world,

even though we may not think so at times. I hope you enjoyed

my take on the kindness prompt and it made you smile.  😊


For Poets United. Kindness.

http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/

Photo: Source

Be Free

On a blank white page…
Feathered fingers drip shadowy iridescent ink.
Far away from large raucous flocks.
Gone from an expansive field.
Missing from a city park.
I can almost hear their poetic caws…
Wafting with the wind…
Their cries being carried on their wings…
of their gloomy cloud.
I can Imagine them dripping black iridescent ink,
Beside their tracks in the glaring white snow.
Dreaming of the day they are loved.
Imagining their intelligence being noticed.
Longing for their language to be understood.
Do they hang out everywhere musing?
Close by until the ink is dry and they're free,
Of their dark reputation.

I’ve always liked these funny birds. We encountered one
on a sign at a National Park once that was probably a raven
because of how large it was. He was gorgeous and he knew it
considering how he hammed it up for the cameras like he was a
a star on the red carpet. I love the way our local crows fill our
yard at times throughout the year. I love this photo prompt too.
I hope everyone is having a great weekend.

Photo: “Be Free” by Magic Love Crow

For The Sunday Muse

https://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/

Hopeless Romantic

In the lovely garden – she was there.

His goddess veiled by floral leaf.

Materialized by his mournful stare.

Any bystanders could feel his grief.



Her cast stone skin – an ivory white.

Her statue drape of burgundy lace.

She is the same shape and height.

He couldn’t help but see her face.



While he sat on a hard-stone seat…

He had a beautiful love story to tell.

An old French vagrant… to most, he’d meet.

Eager to reminisce about his mademoiselle.


I heard he’d passed – he’s no longer there.

It is indisputable… I’m sure his spirit soared.

The hopeless romantic who sat in the square.

Gone to a heavenly garden – met by the one he adored.




For the Sunday Muse

Photo: "Ireland" by Emily Soto, fashion photographer

 https://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/

A Sight to Behold

Calm reassuring,

Loving embrace of a child.

A sight to behold.

For the Sunday Muse

Photo: Source

https://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/

What is Love?

What? A pop quiz?

What is love? To cut a long story short…

Is it treats?

Okay… okay – well… um…

Love cares about everyone – everything.

Love knows we are all interconnected.

Love knows when one loves others;

It also loves oneself.

This is the true nature of love.

Love can’t be influenced or confined.

Love has no boundaries;

Therefore, you can find love everywhere.

Love is naturally kind and empathetic.

Love speaks out for injustice.

Love allows anger and pain,

To be communicated and freed.

Love cannot be bought and sold.

Love floats around free to give and receive.

Love cannot be planned;

Therefore, we are often surprised by love.

Love is all of this and so much more.

Okay, we good? Um… treats are love too.

Yep, I love treats – you love giving me treats.

I highly recommend love and treats.

For Poets United midweek motif… Love.

Photo: Pinterest

I hope everyone has a happy Valentines Day!

Much love, Vicki

http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/

Peace and Love

I’ve been in harm’s way.

With scares, I return to you…

Wanting love and peace.

For The Sunday Muse

Photo: Source

https://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/ 

Pesky Pear Tree

Hey you – yeah, you.

Put down that brush loaded up…

with golden ochre acrylic paint.

Relax – fill your coffee cup.

I have a tree story to tell.

One that will make you fear…

Those lovely Bradford Pear blossoms,

That I’m about to smear.

Yes, they may be pretty.

A sterile ornamental tree.

Unfortunately, with just themselves…

and now most people will agree.

To never plant these trees.

If it’s not enough – you will never see a single pear.

The havoc that they’ll spread…

Will be more than we can bear.

Here is the link where I got the idea for this

poem for The Sunday Muse. Also for Poetry Pantry.

Happy Sunday.  😊 Photo: Source

https://wellnessmama.com/126975/cut-down-bradford-pear-tree/

https://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/

http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/

Sweet Strains of the Harp

She heard soft…

Sweet strains of the harp.

And she knew…

In her core.

Love was linking souls between…

The heavens and earth.

I wanted to give this Spanish 6-line syllabic poem of 3/5/3/3/7/5

 a try. A little harder than I expected it to be. 😊 Photo: Pinterest.

Hope

It has been around forever.

It often finds a way inside.

Confine and cage the clever.

Make a person’s path divide.

However, dread slithers in…

And hope is strong and swift.

Forever hidden deep within;

To set our aching fears adrift.

For The Sunday Muse and Poetry Pantry

Photo: Source

https://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/

http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/

Rhythmic for Rain

Hearts beat with the drums reverberations.

A tribes passion expressed.

Rhythmic for rain.

Clouds swell with the drumming.

Rhythms insisting the sun;

Fade into the golden savanna.   

Some wait for the sky to open;

Lingering there until blessings fall.

For The Sunday Muse

Photo: Source

https://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/

There Was a Time

There was a time when I held onto insecurity –

Tight as the bottom of the ocean holds onto wreckage.

Unable to try new things.

Afraid of what someone might say –

Or worse what they might think…

And not say. I feared the eye roll.

Then there came a time when…

I unclenched the lap bar – held my arms in the air.

Opened my eyes wide and looked forward.

Embraced the ups and downs.

Mentally threw any eye rollers off the track.

And enjoyed the thrill of the ride.

Then there came a time not so long ago…

When gravity started whizzing me down the track,

A little faster it seemed – wind smacking me in the face.

However, my gears are still clicking and clanking.

I’m still climbing – the excitement of the ride still consumes me.

Now, I can only hope…

I continue to experience the thrill of life – in an exhilarating way –

Until my ride comes to a stop.

Photo: Pinterest

She Shook Her Loose Feathers Free

She found her spirit dimming.

Then determination surged…

Within her heart and veins,

Until joy emerged.

Vibrations of spirit soared.

Colliding with distant stars.

A sprinkling of sparkle…

Swapped for mental scars.

Her mind perched as the eagle.

Steady gaze – a turquoise sea.

Peace of graceful waves.

Tides of emotions flee.

She seized a tranquil silence.

Paused to hear the melody.

She’d finally unfurled her wings…

And shook her loose feathers free.


For the Sunday muse and Poetry Pantry

https://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/

Photo: Source

http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/

Jesus Came Between Us

Jesus came between us a few days ago.

I sit and watch you brood – about what?

I guess... I will never know.

It has always been my greatest fear.

Living with your echoes of emptiness.

You always make sure I hear.

You mumble to yourself – shake your head.

Refuse to communicate out loud.

And always leave the loving words unsaid.

You make it very hard to forgive.

Still, I begin each new day happy.

It is how I choose to live –

You’re mostly vigilant on the razor's edge.

Letting anger come between us.

I’m done, my love – now, Jesus drives the wedge.


http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/

Warrior

Did they think there were no women warriors?

Fox… did they think only men could have bravery?

Did they not see my cunning abilities?

When they forced their laws and beliefs on our people…

Did they think I would surrender to their demands?

They should have seen the fierceness in my eyes.

They thought they would take our structures and lands,

And force our people into slavery without a fight.

We joined forces and fought a good fight for freedom.

We may not have won the war, fox —

We may lie bleeding courage here in the final battle…

But we stood against brutal aggression.

Rising and falling – we will be remembered.

Do you see it, fox? The moon gate?

It is time to shed our swords and helmets.

It is time to shed our earthly skin – gain our ethereal wings.

Soon we will be on the garden side of life.

Soon we’ll lie our bruised bodies about the mossy knoll.

Our ears will only hear the soothing stream.

Our eyes will rest on the forget-me-nots in the green meadows.

Soon our hearts will be as light as butterflies – our story will live on.

Photo: "Guardian" by Chie Yoshii

https://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/