Sitting on a long deck
At a trailer
In South Georgia
Wind in the Pine Trees
Reading Nathaniel Hawthorne
My stomach is empty
except for
this longing and guilt
A murder of Crows
loudly soar through
Creasing the boughs of the Pines
It is only
Them and I
And
Love that I left
Love that I lost
A hollow serenity settles in
I pull at the Scarlet Letter
Blazing on my chest
Hester exposed
As the Sun sets
A Possum skirts the front yard
Unnoticing me
He is my Kinfolk
An eater of ticks
An old world scavenger
Deceiving the world
Playing dead
Yet
I cannot
The blood on my hands
isn't mine
“I cannot endure to waste anything so precious as autumnal sunshine by staying in the house.” – Nathaniel Hawthorne
Fall
Whispers
Quietly
Playing gently
Dancing leaves, breathless
Praises singing
So calmly
Gifts of
Fall
“A flower of strange beauty, growing in a desolate spot, and blossoming in the wind.”
— Nathaniel Hawthorne
Blooming zinnias, swaying in the breeze,
Elegance attracting
cute little hummingbirds with ease,
Hues impacting;
Lemon yellow butterflies flit around,
Collecting sweet nectar,
Zinnias stand tall in the ground,
Sole protector;
Hearts flutter at the sight of these flowers,
Cheerfully spread good vibes,
Small, yet potent, they have powers
no tongue describes.
21st December 2022
For Constance La France's "Writing challenge - Zip, Zig, Zag, Zing" contest
*Image of The Moon Looking At Full by Pixabay.
“No man for any considerable period can wear one face to himself, and another to the multitude, without finally getting bewildered as to which may be the true.” – Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter, 1850.
Pockets Of Moon and Men
Daylight is wiped away by a washcloth
transformed into a grayish dusk disguise
as an orb light removes a murky swath
its mask gone thus does the illusion dies
The facade exhibits cracked lines and holes
that crisscross its scenery seen in parts
an imperfect surface sway naught the souls
as amour captivate, affects sweethearts
It adjusts pained lives who have broken up
with all its flawed features mesmerize lives
minding trifling defects both share the cup
as keen as mustard errs also faults thrives
Opted pairs make-up after both were torn
Pocket-full-of-miracles pleased Hawthorne
2021 June 23
*1st Place*
ALL YOURS (Jun 25)
~~Brian Strand Judged 2021 June 26
*3rd Place*
Writing Prompt - Flawed
~~Constance La France: Judged 2021 June 24
"Time flies over us, but leaves its shadow behind."
Nathaniel Hawthorne
I sneer at grandfather clock, standing in the hall,
listening as his ticking, leaves my anger spent.
I long to bind his hands and make time crawl,
and if that's considered a sin, I will never repent.
His old brass pendulum swings much too fast,
like a gossip, repeatedly wagging his tongue.
Oh, how I would love to make him gong his last
so I'd have eternal peace when his bell is wrung.
His infinite chime persists at the top of each hour
and in that moment I feel recurring pain.
I must get past the relentless echo of his power.
Headaches from his hammering drive me insane!
Not in the present, but I swear that one day soon
I'll find a way to remove his pulley and chains.
No longer will he gambol that annoying tune,
a cadenced rhythm in redundant refrain.
Time - 8 Word Challenge
Sponsored by A Dear Heart
Posted on July 3, 2020
Even miserable, but my own,
I gladly take it without the scorn.
I have blurry ideas of whom to become
and no religious extremism of long ago,
such as Salem Trials and brain control.
Was it judge Hathorne who had
scarlet letter to carry
or Nathaniel Hawthorne,
his great grandson,
who reconciled the story.
These were temptations for lamentations
in the engine of chemical reactions of the brain.
It has a subtle balance,
this wonderful thing is easy to break
and impossible to attain a new.
Let’s not break our engine brains
with sniffs, smokes and drinks -
all these unnecessary things and pills,
for we can become persons unknown
even to ourselves.
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