Whisper Zone
She ran to her little girl as quickly as she possibly could! A bloodcurdling scream had shocked her from her sunbathing reverie, and she cursed as she stepped on and squished her bottle of Coppertone across the walkway. Scooping her daughter in her arms she ran into the house, setting her daughter down in a playpen as the child continued to scream loudly and wave her arm around.
Opening the refrigerator the mom mixed baking soda with meat tenderizer as quickly as she could. Grabbing her screaming daughter with shaking hands she hurriedly applied the horrid paste, cooing to the trembling child all the while that it would be OK, momma loves you, you’ll be all right!
The momma’s eyes are welling with tears and the young child is making strange, almost intelligible noises, but she is no longer screaming. Breathing deeply the mother holds her child and showers her with love and affection, until the poor little thing falls asleep.
Later, when the daughter has children of her own she will discuss this event with her mother, laughing about the time she stuck her finger in the electrical socket… to which the other will stare blankly recalling no such incidence, but a horrible sting by a hornet.
Jan Ramsey-Hart
Seeds of probability
Seeds,
thrown out unawares
from the center of my passion
with just a thought.
Erupted from pods
incubated within my inner self,
and scattered by mynd hands
like crumbs across the cosmos.
a sprinkle of event,
a word, a phrase,
a look on someone’s face,
settled there,
dormant till I catch up
to notice it
and feed it thought.
surprised at what
I have so humorously hidden
in yesterday today and tomorrow,
I laugh to watch it
grow and spread
cross the faces of my lives,
colors, feelings, action
blending, merging,
spreading squirrelly fingers
into new pods
of possibility.
Judyette Clarke
“Just living is not enough,”
said the butterfly,
“one must have sunshine, freedom
and a little flower.”
~ Hans Christian Anderson
Just remember always,
to have fun with what you are doing
When it becomes “work”,
switch and find something else
that brings you
to the brink of sheer joy
And the key to the “brink”
is to allow yourself
to go past the “brink”
and still know you are okay
What is beyond the brink of everything
is pure spirit, pure creation…
I am One With the One
The Shift in consciousness
is like a box of chocolates
The more into it you’re diving,
The more expanded your being.
Lullaby For The August Stopgap
Lullaby for the August stopgap
A dreamsong of ateliers and undertones
Fan the ice for no audience
A teaparty adherent, vacant
Content till I wear the disengagement ring
The face of patience
Bracing, Remote, Indispensable, Laughing
No response, or delicate answers
I imagine a future
Defined by archaic mosaics
I walk here
Awaiting the invoice
Kenneth (Oba) McSween
