If this Writespiration inspired you then jot a few words, a poem or a story and post below and I will post them with a link to your blog in next weeks post.
Here’s mine:
What is Love? By Sacha Black
“What does it feel like, Mama?”
“What does what feel like, Joseph?”
“Love.”
“Well,” I said picking him up and drawing him into my chest, “It’s warm and squidgy, and filled with cuddles and warmth. It sounds like glorious sunshine, and birds chirping in spring and sometimes like waves crashing on the sand.”
“Oh,” he said wriggling out of my arms. He frowned at me, and puckered his lips into a pout.
“What’s wrong, honey?”
“But, if love sounds like all of those things, then what does it taste of?”
I smiled to myself and planted a kiss on his forehead.
“What’s your favourite food?”
“Mama don’t be silly, you know it’s ice cream and marshmallows.”
“Then honey, I strongly suspect that love tastes of ice cream and marshmallows.”
***
Last weeks writespiration had three fantastic submissions:
The first a moving tale of innocence by Geoff Le Pard
Dust
No pavement this
A line of dust
Trod hard by toil.
Sifting grains held
Till the rains come.
Or tears and sweat.
Or blood.
Only children now touch
With curiosity,
Wiggling toes,
Questioning fingers,
Filtering grit,
Sizing each piece,
Testing for abrasion
On soft untroubled skin.
Only children have time
To explore.
Lives not yet
Trammelled by toil
And sweat
And blood.
Soon enough the rains will come.
***
The second a wonderfully emotional Haiku by Rachel
The dog sat, waiting.
He looked at his surroundings.
His family was gone.
***
The third submission was a beautiful tale of childhood memories by Charli Mills
Little Towns by Charli Mills
I lagged behind our guide, tugging at my daughter’s sleeve.
“Rose, this is like a scene from my childhood.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Mom, you grew up in North Dakota. This is Nepal.”
“Look—that little girl. Give her braids and that would be me, playing in the street while Pa loaded our wagon.”
“Seriously, Mom.”
“And that man in the doorway. He stands, arms folded, like Nels the shopkeeper. And that woman in the striking material. His wife I bet. Nels’s wife always dressed better than everyone else.”
“What is with you? We are in a foreign country.”
Nepal inspired me. I now knew that I would return home and write about my childhood. “Every place in the world has its little town on the prairie.”
Diana and Angie arrived at Angie’s house well past midnight. A tall, handsome boy jumped out of the passenger seat of the Cadillac and opened the back doors for the two girls. Diane stepped out in her hot pink heels lifting her black poofy dress high enough for it not to drag in the mud. Without having to stand on her toes with her heels, she leaned in an gave the boy a kiss. Angie emerged out the other door allowing her midnight blue dress to train across the gravel. She poked her head in through the driver’s window and kissed her date.
After what felt like forever, the boys waved goodbye and drove off shrinking in the distance. Angie swayed with a look of longing on her face.
“I feel like Cinderella.”
Diana giggled, “I think you missed your opportunity to throw your shoe at the car.”
“I don’t need to lose my shoe in order for Cody to come back. He’ll call in the morning.” Angie smirked at her friend turning around in the driveway. She hiked it up the porch trying to keep her dress from getting dirty and from losing her balance on her heels–after dancing the night away at prom, her feet needed a good soak.
“How do you know?” Diana questioned following her friend into the house.
“He loves me,”
Diana snorted. She was overtired, head over heels for Rob, and needed to get her dress off immediately. She didn’t want to have to listen to her friend talk nonsense.
“I’m sure you and Rob feel the same way.” Angie glared at her friend, but softened her gaze as a goofy smile took place of the frown. “I forgot I was at prom half of the night. Cody and I were someplace else–it was just the two of us.”
“Well, where was I?” Diana asked confused.
“Don’t interrupt me,” Angie whispered and continued, “I don’t know where we were, but we were far away. There were no high school teachers, high school kids, just us frolicking through a meadow, the sunshine beating down on us, free as two birds could possibly be. We could do anything we wanted, go anywhere we wanted… no one could stop us. The smell of his cologne and my perfume mingling together to make the sweetest scent you could ever imagine. You know, like in the winter when you step outside and you can just smell the snow coming? It was kind of like that. I just knew we’re meant to be together.”
“All because both of you smelled nice tonight?” Diana stifled a laugh. She opened Angie’s bedroom door and staggered over to her desk kicking her shoes off at the same time. “I need a pen and paper… this is so going in my maid of honor speech for your wedding.”
Angie placed her hands on her hips and glared at Diana. She stood in the doorway longing to sit on her bed, but she wanted to stand her ground.
“Well,” she scoffed, “what did you smell when you were with Rob?”
“I smelled his deodorant wearing off.” Diana laughed. She turned around and leaned against the desk gazing up at the ceiling. “I guess his sweat kind of drew me to him.”
“Diana, that’s gross.” Angie dismissed the conversation. She sat on her bed and started taking off her shoes and pantyhose.
“Hear me out.” Diana said seriously. “People sweat when they’re nervous, right? I felt as though Rob sweated more whenever he was with me.”
“That’s a really odd thing to notice…” Angie shook her head in disgust.
“Because time moved slower when we were together.” Diana waltzed around the room as though she and Rob were still holding onto each other. Angie looked on in confusion, but with a smile cracking in the corners of her mouth.
“You work up a sweat when you’re doing a lot. With time moving slow, or practically stopped, you shouldn’t be sweating. I could feel myself getting hot as well. I thought I was going to puke.” Diana explained further.
“You have a twisted mind.” Angie laughed.
“I’m in love. Sue me.” Diana stopped dancing and stared at Angie in the eyes.
“I just explained to you what love is and you just described the opposite.” Angie stood up from her bed. She walked over to her dresser and looked at herself in the mirror starting to take the bun out of her hair.
“Well,” Diana started waltzing again, “I guess people just see love differently.”
What a wonderful story. I am blown away, that the prompt gave you a whole story, and what a beautiful one too. So truthful to the different shades of people and what love really means to each of us. My favourite part was:
“You know, like in the winter when you step outside and you can just smell the snow coming? It was kind of like that. I just knew we’re meant to be together.”
Simply beautiful. One of my favourite sounds is when it has freshly snowed in the middle of the night, and the snow muffles everything. It’s just the most beautiful kind of silence, and your beautifully descriptive imagery took me straight there. I loved it Rachel. Thank you so much for joining me.
apparently your story was ‘beautiful’ and I must be tired – its nearly midnight and clearly my brain isn’t playing thesaurus! lol
Wow, thank you! I’m glad you enjoyed it. I wanted to write something a little more than a haiku. Once I started writing, the words just kept flowing. 🙂
I love when that happens, and you barely have to think about what you write the words just flow from your fingertips 🙂
It took me a half hour, too. 🙂
A Michelin starred marriage: the recipe for success
First you need a pair of eyes: they must be blue and soft, like ripe summer fruit which is full of sweet promise, juicy and illicit.
Then add two rich ruby lips, curved like sharp sliced red peppers, that form your smile, as nourishing as ambrosia.
I prepare by carefully rubbing my tentative fingers through your confident, nurturing hair, as I once caressed the adolescence grass one slow summer’s evening as you fed my addiction.
Bind the whole together with the sheen from your lustrous skin, nature’s smoothie of vanilla and maple and cookies and cream.
I know the mix is ready by inhaling the scent of your perfectly parabolic neck, unfailingly inducing an ice-cream shiver.
Somehow you miracle royal banquets from such base ingredients;
Feasts that quench my nervous yearnings and leave my love-hunger satisfied.
This meal never losses its appeal, never fails to restore my hope, however sugar low my mood.
These cunning confections, garnished with a knowing smile,
Leave me replete.
Be selfish: keep your recipes just for us.
OMG what a fantastically brilliant idea! I would never have thought to go in that direction Geoff. Pure genius. My favourite line “Perfectly parabolic neck” brilliant 🙂 thank you for participating
but without the prompt, there’s no poem…
Oh stop!! ? hehe