Promises*

autumn-burdocksm

Autumn Burdock – photo by Wild Thing

A promise given
Received
With joy
Gently placed
In a basket
To be savored
Until its arrival
With expectation
Hopeful days
Pass
It never comes

Another promise
Arrives
In the basket
It goes
Believing again
Only to see
It curls up
Like the other

Soon the basket
Fills with
Withered promises
It’s put away
With the pain
Of being forgotten

More promises
Arrive
Like butterflies
Beautiful
Then flutter away

Leaving behind
Wistful
Knowledge
That it will
Never happen
Which is
Better than
Expectation
Unfulfilled

Wild Thing ©February 18, 2017

*This poem was written for the Prompt 2.17 for the Writing Rebels.
It must suck to have promises made that are never kept. I mean we all know what it’s like, but to be an entire race of people? I think of Standing rock … being Black … Hispanic … all the broken promises made to them & then I am ashamed to bemoan any that have been broken to me. Anyway, I tried to capture that feeling & don’t think I came very close to it … but for what it’s worth. This was my attempt.

Mad Dance

a-day-in-the-sunshine

A Day in Sunshine – Digital Art by Wild Thing

Candle lit hall
Voices … laughter
Wild music
Playing
Some danced
Others ate

Here
Games of chance
There
Fortunes told
Jugglers … acrobats
Weave in and out

An assault
On the senses
Bright … bold
Glittering
Exotic scents
Roving eyes

Above it all
Upon his throne
The King
With jaded eye
Observes all

Buxom women
Vie
For position
He comments
Giggles with
False modesty
Answer him

As if
From thin air
Gold and
Sapphires with
Rubies and
Amethyst appear
Time stops
Or did it

Dashing men
Attempt
At claiming
The bright treasure
Their success
Denied

Its glitter
Captures the eye
Of the King
He watches
The failures
One by one

He must
Possess this
Treasure

As he walks
With purpose
The crowd opens
A path
Before him
Until he stands
Before this beauty

First attempt
Denied
Angered slightly
Bemused greatly
He waits

The treasure moves
Just a bit
To the right
As if
To go around

The king moves
To block
An odd chess
Game begins
A move here
A block there

The King
Suddenly
With a
Hearty laugh
Grabs the treasure
Claims it
For his own

Looking into
The sapphires
His lips kiss
Ruby ones
Golden hair
In his hands

As the treasure
Yielded
It was a mad
Beautiful thing
And the dance
Had just begun

Wild Thing©2017

Prompt 2.14
Writing Rebels

Nonconformity

my-daffodil-van-goghed

Daffodil Van Goghed – digital art by Wild Thing

I . . . am
A nonconformist
I don’t require
Your affirmation

While valuing
Your opinion
It won’t change
How I live
My life or
See myself

I can’t fit
Into the box
You try to put
Me in
Be what you
Want me to be

Who you think
I should be
The role
I should play
In this life

I do this
Not out of
Disrespect
For you
But because
I respect me

I do this
So we each
Can have our
Space to be
Who we each
Were meant
To be

Wild Thing©2017

Prompt 2.12
Writing Rebels

Nineteen

140

Fogged State – photo by Wild Thing

fish fry
proposal
everyone there
said yes
thinking
will end it
in a month
mom pushes
for a date
dad’s business
wiped out
mom fired
sis and brother
still in school
left college
found a job
supported
my family
new house
had to be sold
broke mom’s heart
bought Christmas
boom box
for brother
hope chest
for sister
turned 20
told mom
no wedding
she said
cold feet
shake it off
money already spent
grasped my arm
it hurt
dad called out
now what
mom said
nothing
seamstress
forgot to
take up the hem
kicked my
wedding dress
down the aisle
crying all the way

Wild Thing ©2017

Gossamer Castle

gossamer-castle

Somewhere – photo by Wild Thing

In the distance
Their eyes see
A peaceful place
Gossamer castle
Drifting in air

A haven
Where they live
By their rules
Love revealing
Their true beauty

Forged in light
At the source
As one … then
Split in two
Each of the other

Appearing fragile
It stands strong
Though gale force
Winds have blown
Love is its mortar

With trust
As its soul
Earthquakes
Merely stir it
Still it stands

Gossamer castle
Shining beacon
Love … trust … peace
Doubts vanish
In their light

Wild Thing ©January 10, 2017

For a Moment

we were rebels
screaming no
to our parents’ life
exploring our world
roof down music loud
oh how happy

sat on car hoods
held hands
watched sunsets
in our eyes
percy’s warm
and tender love

dusk fall
dirt road trails
old abandoned house
weed walking
breath held in fright
season of the witch

snow fall night
empty parking lots
back bumper skiing
laughter caught in air
glittery eyelashes
made my heart sing

Wild Thing©2016

Summer Free

003blog

Feather Quill – photo by Wild Thing

Summer free
Sunkissed
Running wild
Braids flying

Roaming fields
Barbed wire cuts
Frog Croak Creek
Toes cooled

Trees climbed
High above
Squirrels scold
Giggles answer

Berries eaten
Yikes . . .  itch weed
Butterflies
Sweet milkweed

On top a hill
Under a rock
Bugs and worms
Scurry to hide

Pretend games
From books read
With friends
No one can see

Mother’s whistle
Running for home
Suppertime
Don’t be late

Pockets emptied
Treasures found
Three rocks
One white feather

In bed sleeping
Sun gold skin
White pillowcase
Child at peace

Wild Thing ©2016

Written for Prompt #2.2

Writing Rebelsm

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