Day is Done – #poetry #NaPoWriMo


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Fire sizzles against waters, vast
A mere reflection of the past

Day goes by, again, returns
Still the fire, there, does burn


Sleep now, in the evening glow
This final resting place, you go

So sad we can’t forever stay
Why must it always be this way?


When time reminds us, day is done
And with the earth, we become one

Much like the fire that leaves the sky
We will, at last, need say goodbye


Author’s Note:  I wrote this poem with a heavy heart.  There has been so much sadness this past year or so, and still, it continues.  My heart goes out to all who lost loved ones… ❤

©2021 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Image by Susan Cipriano from Pixabay

Friday Fantasy ~ Enticed – #poetry #butterflycinquain – #NaPoWriMo


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She climbs the steps

Daring the fates, unknown

White candles flicker, beckoning


This fire, out of her control

Burns deeply in her soul

She falls victim



©2021 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Image by Enrique Meseguer from Pixabay

Zeus’s Storm – #poetry #Shadorma – #NaPoWriMo


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Zeus’s storm

His beacons pierce night

Through clouds, thick


Poseidon balks, unamused

As lightning strikes deep


©2021 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Image by superemelka from Pixabay

Awakening Morning – #poetry #challenge – #NaPoWriMo


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As she lifts the veil

Awakening morning’s light

Freedom is given

Her flocks fly hurriedly by

Before darkness reigns again



©2021 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Image by Stefan Keller from Pixabay

Bleeding Thoughts – #dark #poetry – #NaPoWriMo – #AprilWriting


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Darkened room, no light to spare
She likes to sit alone and stare
Across the way, without a care

Her thoughts, indeed, do wander

No curtains hang on window panes
So many broken, let in the rain
And wash her reality down the drain

Reminiscing, moments squandered

Her hands, unsteady, though try she might
With cursed pens, no ink, spill white
As words, reflected, become quite trite

Why paper bleeds, she dare not ponder

Bending down to grasp the red
She finds her mind, uneasily shred
Is she now one, among the dead?

A thought, of which she grows fonder


April Writing Prompts – Cursed pens and bleeding paper

©2021 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Image by kalhh from Pixabay