Tag Archives: Challenge

…as a hatter

…as a hatter

daydreams
rollicking mirth
could hint that one is mad
for believing utopias
exist

~kat

A cinquain for Colleen Chesebro’s Tanka Tuesday Poetry Challenge, synonyms only for the words, fantasy (daydreams, utopia) and merry (rollicking, mirth, mad).


The Fish Pond

Photo by © Connie Gayer.

Ned’s wife wanted a fish pond.

“Oh Ned,” Charlotte swooned, “you know I’ve always dreamed of it. A shallow basin swimming with beautiful koi, water lilies, edged with smooth boulders, horsetail reeds, lizard tails, I love those, and corkscrew rush…and maybe a little fountain, with lights. Betty told me their guy installed it all in a day. Should I call him? She said he’d give us a fair price.”

Ned nodded, as his dear wife spoke. “I can do it honey,” he said.

Three weeks later, knee deep in spring water Ned relented, “Char…that guy….you still have his number?”

~kat

99 Words for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Friday Fictioneers flash fiction challenge inspired by this photo by © Connie Gayer.


42 Day 28

earth after the tempest

rain drenched, grassy knolls
swelling waterways, sparkling

misty hollows, verdant lush
scent of blossoms, earthy musk
wetness becomes her

~kat

For Jane Dougherty’s Daily Poetry Challenge, “42”.


42 Day 27

nothing to see on this overcast morn

the sunlight’s soft, muted, no shadows to swoon
no scampering squirrels, no birds on the wing

let’s happily linger between silken sheets
rhythmically purring, my predator sleeps,
blissful, not bothered as chickadees sing

~kat

For Jane Dougherty’s Daily Poem Challenge, “42”.


Shame – 42 Day 26

what kind of monster

rips babies from their mothers,
asylum seekers; punishment for hope

liberty’s promise rots, dead,
behind walls, hate, it’s not safe
the monsters here are real

~kat

For Jane’s Dougherty’s Daily Poem Challenge. I read Jane’s poem today again after penning my own. It gives me hope. It is true that some parts of the world are becoming kinder. Not here. My poem reflects the polar opposite to Jane’s poem ‘Pride’. I am calling mine “Shame”.

I learned of a new border crossing practice instituted by our current leaders that is so heinous it makes me sick. (An article from the Houston Chronicle about this HERE.)

As a deterrent to asylum seekers, the border patrol is now separating children from parents. Then the children, some as young as 18 months are deemed “unaccompanied minors” and shuffled into a mismanaged foster system, making it difficult to reunite these families when the parents are released to be deported. These parents are not dangerous criminals smuggling over our border, mind you, but rather families who present themselves to border patrol authorities seeking asylum from horrendous conditions, and even the threat of death, in their own countries. For even thinking they might find safety here, they are rewarded with something even more horrible.

I am heartened by Jane’s happy “42” today. The sun is shining here too; birds are singing. I should be writing about that, but my heart is just not in it.