Heartbeat ~ #haiku #RonovanWrites

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When petals blossom

Earth’s fragility reveals

A flower’s heart beats

 

RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #202 Fragile&Heartbeat

Photo and Haiku ©2018 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved

The Night of Nin ~ #MayWriting #poetry

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The sun set late, in the twilight sky
Stars twinkled softly, as clouds drifted by

I set my sights high, it was about to begin
The gathering of those, from dear Planet Nin

They came in the dark, when no one could see
Blending with the night, inconspicuously

Silently landing, not an inkling of din
Those three eyed creatures, were about to begin

Their ritual, for which I was privy to
The time had come, I knew what to do

Channeling my thoughts, I felt quite drained
As into their covey, I was ordained

Never again to be on my beloved Earth
It was for the better, my own rebirth

No longer buried, in my own chagrin
A new life awaited, on dear Planet Nin

 

May Writing Prompt:  The night of nin – Day 22/31

©2018 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0

Shadows in the Night ~ #shortstory #fiction

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The house is quiet, except for the drone of the fan blowing behind me. Everyone is asleep, but not the spirit who lives here. It is one thirty in the morning. I should be in bed, but I’m in my office, writing. I stop, because I smell toast. I wonder, who could be up at this hour, and eating. I check my daughter’s room, her door is closed. Hubby is peacefully snoring away in the bedroom. So, the question remains, who’s making toast!!

I shrug it off to my imagination. Perhaps it’s me who’s hungry and I desire bread. I don’t think so but I won’t rule it out. I go back to my writing. Fifteen or so minutes later, I now smell nail polish. Unless I can type and do my nails at the same time, it’s not me. I contemplate checking the rest of the house but decide to let it go. Whoever it is, is having a good time. Maybe they have a date, maybe they’re getting ready for work. Who am I to obsess over it? Back to writing.

A knock on my office door. No one’s there. I try to concentrate on my writing but it’s hard to do with so many interruptions. There are footsteps in the hallway, almost a shuffle, like slippers, sliding across the hardwood floor. I don’t wear slippers. It’s not me. I sit, anxious, waiting for the next scent to waft my way. My ears are ringing, someone is talking about me.

It’s time to sleep, and I rise out of my chair and turn to head into the bedroom. My way is blocked, but I can’t see why. I move left, and I still can’t get through the door. I move right. I’m getting frustrated and go full on and push whatever it is that won’t let me in. I’ve had enough for this early time, I will figure it out later. Or will I? This has been going on for years. Maybe I should give up trying to figure it out. But the detective in me will never let that happen.

And so, I continue searching, for shadows in the night…

 

©2018 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0

Caught Downstream ~ #shortstory

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I found myself lost in a forest that banked against a river. It was frightfully hot that day, and walking around in circles wasn’t helping the situation. The humidity made my dress cling to me in a rather awkward way, and if I ever hoped to get out of this mess, I needed to find a way to make me look more presentable. So I kept walking, until I noticed I was slowly inching my way closer to the water. The water was too inviting to resist, and so, in I walked. If I thought my dress was clingy before, it surpassed that in an instant.

I was immediately drenched from simply entering the flowing river, every ripple of water cascading over my legs. As I walked, the forest grew denser and I could see numerous trees had met their untimely death. I could also see the water rising higher. Looking for a place to climb out, I headed for the large branch lazily floating in the river. But the harder I tried to get to it, the farther away it got. I was caught in a swirling eddy that was pulling me down, deeper into the murky water. I decided I would need to take my gown off in order to fight against the currents. Fumbling, I was in a hurry, I finally managed to get the darn thing off.

It was then I noticed a group of people, who had gathered for a picnic, in the cut out along the river. All eyes were on me, as mothers scurried to shield their children. I couldn’t think of anything better to do, so I waved, smiled and said have a nice day, and continued walking downstream, the water now up to my neck.

I never did find my way out of the forest. My gown washed up, on the river bank, downstream. I was nowhere to be found…

 

The Daily Post: Awkward

©2018 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0

She is My Comfort ~ #inspirational #poetry

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I can hear her calling, in the night
A whisper, softly spoken to me
She always appears, when there is no light
It’s the only way, to make me see

Her ethereal presence, in my home
Though I know not, from where, she comes
Just a subtle breeze, whenever she roams
She always knows, when I’m feeling glum

Her sweet voice, floating in the air
She is my comfort, when I am withdrawn
Her spirit lingers, in a silent prayer
As she disappears, with the wake of dawn

 

©2018 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0