Through the Woods and Over the River

                      (A Winter's Tale by Deborah J Lindsey)

                  We have journeyed far this night,

                          Best Belov-ed.

                  We journeyed though the woods

                             lovely and dark.

                Save for a sliver of a pale moon

                         to light our path.

 

                     We met a travel weary poet          

                          and his sleigh horse.

                 The snow drifted about them,

                        glistening and deep.                     

          

                      The horse was not lost,

                       He was sure of the way.

     He stamped and snorted out his eager breath.

        And his harness bells jingled a song of home.

             

                    But The poet was lost,

              'He was hopelessly spellbound.

             Immersed in the magic of the woods

                  And the silence of the night.

                         He was a prisoner,

            Willingly ensnared in his web of words.

             We have journeyed far this night,

                              Best Belov-ed.

           Look yonder, over across this frozen river,

                  Where the lamp lights beckon,

            And the hearth fires crackle away the chill.  

                           Our Dear One waits,

                    Pink-cheeked and hungry eyed.

                       She stirs her bubbling kettle,

                       And longs to fill our bowls

                        With her warmth and love.

                  C Copyright December, 2016 by Deborah J Lindsey

Author's Note:  Many thanks to the   poster of this snap- an elf and a bunny looking across a frozen pond.  Perhaps, a lovely supper waited in one of the lamp-lit houses? Perhaps, a savory stew, fragrant and hearty for the elf and a pile of fresh hay and roasted carrot for the bunny?

Again, thanks for delighting my day with words.  DJL

I got inspired by a photo someone shared on Face Book and wrote about it I  I have spent the entire morning and well into the afternoon in perfect writer’s delight. Writing makes me happy. Bunnies make me happy. Elves, well I can take them or leave them but the little elf that sat with the bunny looking across a frozen river at houses with welcome lamps and hearth fires burning has done a happy job on this lady. How so? Snatches from a song- over the river and through the woods, but in my use, through the woods and over the river, and a poem remembered most happily about lovely, dark,deep woods filled with snow(thanks RF) all sprang forth to brighten my day.

Conversation With an Enemy

“Dialog only prompt for 12/7/2016:

"I am my own worst enemy."

This is not the first line or the last line, just has to be used somewhere in your response. Remember dialog only not even ," said xxxx.

               A  Conversation With an Enemy

                      By Deborah J Lindsey

"Who’s there? 

I know you’re there and I know who you are. Your laughter gave you away. "

"You are your own worst enemy.”

“Don’t you mean thatYOU are my worst enemy? “

“No need to whisper in that obscene voice. 

Oh yes, I remember and I agree that was a horrible thing I did and maybe you’re right in saying that I am my own worst enemy. 

Yes, I am totally guilty.

I am guilty of many things but my Lord is gracious. I’ve talked to Him and I am sure he has forgiven me. In fact, he threw all that bad stuff into the ‘Sea of Forgetfulness’ and doesn’t even remember it at all. 
You are the one that remembers it all.

You’re right. I did that too but you are the accuser of the brethren. Well, sistern in my case.

No, I didn’t google “sistern”. 

I’m a writer! I’ll write what I want!

Yes, even if it is a made-up word.

Get thee behind me satan.

You know you have to leave, in fact you have to flee.”

“Yes, I know, but I’ll be back.”

djl

C Copyright 2016 by Deborah J Lindsey

not the end of all things

today I wanted to die but I think I will live instead.

it is not the end of all thinga.  it just seems that way but I will be ok.

Roosters crow at Night

Roosters Crow at Night
By Deborah J Lindsey

(The man on the phone sounded like he had a sock shoved up his nose.) -First line writing prompt-

The man on the phone sounded like he had a sock shoved up his nose.

I knew it waswas Berry.

I sighed and clicked my phone shut knowing that it would only ring again.

I counted 1 2 3 4 5 6.

Chicken Dance music, once, twice.

“Hello, Berry is that you?
Speak up! Your sock connection is very bad.”

The sock continued his muffled tirade.

Berry was my neighbor in back. If I looked out the bathroom window I am sure I would find him there peering through the parted curtains. I did try to get along with him but he was just one of those impossible people that could never be satisfied.

I do believe he counted every leaf that dared fall from my trees unto his yard. I watched him spear them with a long stick that had a nail driven into the end of it. When the nail was full, he made neat little piles and nailed them to my fence. I didn’t mind the nails. In fact, I found them quite convenient places to hang my wind chimes. I had four out there now. They were quite musical on a breezy day.

He was odd about trash too. Once, some flyers I had thrown away advertising information on my lost dog who had mysteriously vanished somehow fell on the ground beside his trash can. I found those nailed on the fence too. Photos of my dear Yapsey were circled several times with a red marker and the nail pierced the paper forehead.

My phone boomed once again. I knew it was Barry because I had assigned him his own ring tone - Beethoven’s Fifth.

“Hello, Berry I know it’s you. You don’t sound one bit like John Wayne.

Berry, I can see you peering through the curtain. NO! I didn’t give your name to the FBI. And NOI I didn’t sign you up for a year’s subscription to “Piggy Wiggy Digest”.

I closed my phone and started the count again.

“Hello, Berry, I can’t hear you. The sock isn’t helping your connection.
What? Chickens? Yes, I have a few hens that’s all. The front yard? Oh, don’t worry about the grass. I have some goats coming next week. Totally organic you know. It’s the latest thing. You’re welcome to some of the goat’s leavings for your roses.

Berry? Hello…?”

I snapped my phone shut. I shook my head and laughed to myself. Some people just couldn’t get along with others. How was I to know roosters crowed when they took a notion too- even at night. I’m sure the girl scout cookies I signed him up for would more than compensate.

C copyright October, 2106 by Deborah J Lindsey

Cleaning Grout

 Cleaning Grout

“What are you doing in the bathroom so long?”

“I’m cleaning grout.”

“What?
“Cleaning trout?
In the bathroom?

“No!” I said.
“I’m cleaning grout.”

“What are you cleaning out?”

“No, no,I SAID… I AM CLEANING GROUT!”

“Steaming kraut?”

I don’t care for kraut.

I thought you were making fish?”

© October, 2016 By Deborah J Lindsey

Writing Prompt: tittle

Cleaning Grout

Cleaning Grout

“What are you doing in the bathroom so long?”

“I’m cleaning grout.”

“What?
“Cleaning trout?
In the bathroom?

“No!” I said.
“I’m cleaning grout.”

“What are you cleaning out?”

“No, no,I SAID… I AM CLEANING GROUT!”

“Steaming kraut?”

I don’t care for kraut.

I thought you were making fish?”



Tittle Prompt

First Line writing Prompt: I stood there waiting at the space port

Sibyl

 I stood there waiting at the space port with everyone else. Even though this flight was unusual, it had sparked little interest. I was just there, like the others, casually observing the event as I took my meal break. 

We were a small silent group each thinking our own thoughts. My thoughts, I am sure were much like the rest- asking the same questions that no one dared give voice. Rumors were that life was again possible on earth but earth to me was just an entry in the archives. I wondered about the place though and from the images, it seemed to filled with much beauty and color. 

The broad doors behind us opened and a keeper carrying a tiny animal creature walked down the ramp. Our eyes met in that sparse moment as they passed - mine and Sibyls’. 

I don’t know why I stepped out of my place and followed. Perhaps, it was because we shared the same name or maybe it was the terrified pleading look I saw in her sad eyes. Who knows what makes a person do things. 

I knew little of animals except the basic knowledge provided by the archives. I’d never even seen one before today. It was said, however that they were vicious and hateful but I was intrigued none the less. 

There were two seats aboard the Blaster, one for the human and one for the animal. The human seat, of course, was optional but I could go if I wanted to. I was of eighteen years and female. Those were the only requirements for a human passenger. The keeper pointed to a seat and I sat down and secured my strap. Then he strapped the quivering Sibyl next to me. He went out and retuned in a moment with two baskets. Provisions for the trip I guessed. I saw fruit on top, bananas I believe they were called. I hoped there was some human food in there too as I had eaten very little of my meal/

The keeper closed the door, pushed the button on the launch pad and we were off. I don’t know why these machines were called “Blasters” because they made no sound. The only sounds I heard were the whisperings of our breath and the beating of our hearts.

Sybil unstrapped herself and moved towards me. She put her arms around my neck and laid her head upon my shoulder. She remained in that position a long while. At last her quivering stopped and I felt her begin to relax.

She lifted her head and peered into my face. Her eyes were two bright stars. She began examining my hair. She selected a single strand and stretched it out full length. She continued in the same manner until all my hair was loosed from its binding and floated free. 

I spoke to her in quiet soothing tones repeating her name over and over. She responded with a strange low humming. She stroked my cheek with her tiny hands and I was sure I had made a new friend. 

I reached back and took a banana from the basket and offered it to her. 
She stared at it a moment and then bit off the end of my thumb.

Blood erupted from my wound like a fountain spray. I watched fascinated as the drops coagulated and formed into many angry red splotches. 

I touched the button marked “emergency” and my injury was instantly encased in clear plastic. There was no pain and the blood disappeared rapidly and was soon gone. I had no clue how or where it went.

Sybil sat in her seat calmly watching me. When she was sure she had my full attention, she pointed to a smooth control panel where colored lights flashed on and off in rhythmic pattern. 

Just below that, I noticed a small sign. There scrawled in ancient cursive handwriting I read, “Do not feed the animal”.    

         C copy write By Deborah J Lindsey September, 2016