Dotted Dimensions – #poetry #SeptemberWriting

19 Wednesday Sep 2018

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in Poems, Poetry, September Writing

Tags

#poetry, #SeptemberWriting, country, dimensions, dorindaduclos.com, dotted, elf, Elfin, grass, magic, meadow, mushrooms, Night Owl Poetry, poems, writing, writing prompt

In the tall green grass of the meadow

In a dimension much like our own

Lives an elf with his misses and family

In a small, dotted mushroom home

Bright red roofs are clustered

A shelter for the little folk inside

Free to be what they want to be

No need to run away and hide

So if you’re walking about in the country

And you spot a mushroom or two

Remember to leave well enough alone

Or elfin magic will come after you!

September Writing Prompt – Dotted dimensions – Day 19/30

Alligator Alley – #poetry #SeptemberWriting

18 Tuesday Sep 2018

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in Poems, Poetry, September Writing

≈ 10 Comments

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#poetry, #SeptemberWriting, alligator, ball, dorindaduclos.com, fan, form, golf, Night Owl Poetry, poems, swing, writing, writing prompt

All the folks called him Alligator Alley

Never questioned just how he did tally

His score on the course, so uncanny

For a gator, whose grip was so clammy

Golfers stood around him, and stared

To question his form, no one dared

Still, his ball would set off any Geiger

But this reptile could never be Tiger

Every day, he would practice his swing

Until one day, he gave up on this thing

Claiming golf was meant only for man

But he’d always remain a true fan!

September Writing Prompt – Alligator Alley – Day 18/30

Covered in Cornmeal – #poetry #SeptemberWriting

17 Monday Sep 2018

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in Poems, Poetry, September Writing

≈ 10 Comments

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#poetry, #SeptemberWriting, baking, cornmeal, dorindaduclos.com, mama, mess, Night Owl Poetry, poems, troublemaker, writing, writing prompt

Mama always loved her baking
Sent me to the store for her needs
I would get lost for hours on end
Hurry up, don’t dawdle, she would plead

One day, I found myself browsing
In a section I should not have been
Knocked over the display in the window
Dumped the flour on the chair, what a sin

There was no way I’d get away with the mess
I had made on the floor and the chair
Not to mention the amount of cornmeal
That wound up, getting stuck, in my hair

I cleaned up the grains of powder
Coughing and sneezing, as I went on my way
When I told mama what happened
She gave me that look of dismay

Carefully, she combed out the flour
Admonished me for doing something wrong
Never again, did she send me to shop there
Which had been my plan, all along

September Writing Prompt – Covered in cornmeal – Day 17/30