my heart’s melody throbs in sync with your footsteps synchronicity Image credit; Dakota Corbin @ Unsplash Thanks for the wonderful photo inspiration to Sadje's WDYS Challenge
a mourning dove cries lamenting the loss of love still, the sun rises Thanks for the photo inspiration to Crispina Kemp's Creative Challenge
to defy the dark I stand on the precipice heart beating in time as destiny’s reflection brightens the murky waters Image by Michael Bußmann from Pixabay Thanks for the inspiration to Sue's Tanka Tuesday Challenge. This is a bit of a companion piece to this morning’s piece for Sadje's What Do You See challenge: the night before you left.… Continue reading the day after you left (a tanka)
Dreams for tomorrow. Fingertips tracing my face with child like wonder. Love growing in the pauses as our hearts beat together. Thanks for the inspiration to Linda's JusJoJan Challenge (fingertips) and to Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge (child / grow).
Negative vibes deleted. Love magnet available. Thanks to the Saturday Six Word Story Prompt (delete) and Linda's SoCS Challenge (magnet) for today's inspiration.
Some days were better than others. He’d leave the house. Buy groceries. Walk in the park. Feed the squirrels. Try to go on without her. But most days were bad. On those days he’d stay in bed. Thinking only of her. Hurting as badly as he had that first day without her. And then there… Continue reading a better day
young love grows weary his touch turning icy hot as their paths diverge Thanks to Your Daily Word Prompt for DIVERGE and to Putting My Feet in the Dirt for the wonderful phrase ICY HOT.
Susan felt like a fool. It was 1977 not 1957. My god, she was a liberated woman! How could she fall for his line? Stupid! But, still, she stayed. Remembering. Champagne. His voice in her ear. “I can’t tell you where I’m going but meet me here on Christmas Eve.” Stupid! Did she think… Continue reading but, still (or the magic door)
your touch, tremoring a mirror in snowy light our love, reflected Thanks to Fandango's FOWC for the opportunity to indulge my love for Stevie Nicks and Fleetwood Mac.
Time has lost all meaning. Had it been one year? Twenty years? One hundred? More? She had stopped trying to count the days long ago. But she had believed--really believed--she'd be able to note the seasons. Hoping to mark the years. Imagining she’d be able to picture their faces as time passed. She had wanted… Continue reading Time