Fall’s Hands

Fall, Forest, Colorful, Season, Woods

Falling into Fall’s hands

Into Autumn’s mitts

Time for sweaters

And changing leaves

As Summer calls it quits

Though a colourful time of year

It still brings many low

As temperature drops – and nights close in

And chill winds begin to blow




Tuesday Writing Prompt: into fall’s hands


New Horizons

Train, Diesel, Transportation, Business

Jeremy had spent the entirety of is nineteen years in the same town.  Buried deep in the farm-belt Hog’s Knuckle was the backwater of all backwaters.  When he was 15 he had made that one trip to the state fair with the 4H Club, but beyond that he had never journeyed more than twenty miles from “Knuckle.” 

The economic situation in the town was dire, and with the closure of the cannery there seemed to be no hope for any real semblance of life left.  With the longing for a new start in his soul, Jeremy left home a little after nine, being sure to go out the kitchen door as if he were on his way to the barn.  Circling back he picked up the old knapsack he had left by the silo, and headed to the bend on the Billings Line.  By ten he would be on a freight train on his way to new horizons.



Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge:

freight train, longing, and nine

Message To The Manager

Business, Lady, Woman, Girl, Computer, Smile, Café


You tried to ruin me,

But I knew it could not be done.

I played along with your belief

That you had against me won.

What you could not have known

In your malicious deeds and thought

Was that I had already  – the company

With my savings bought.


PS:  Please empty your desk by the end of business Friday.




Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge: Finish the phrase You tried to ruin me, but I…”



In Hand


Writing, Write, Fountain Pen, Ink


When I was at school, I was quite proud of my cursive hand with its requite swirls and flourishes.  Many hours were spent trying to replicate the elaborate script that, in white on green, spanned the front of the classroom wall just below the ceiling.

But times, and life moved on and I found myself a teacher in the UK, where my adorned writing caused confusion among my students.  “Sir, why does your ‘n’ look like a ‘m’ and your ‘m’ have three bumps and not two?  Yes, I had inadvertently wandered into the realm of “joined writing,” in which cursive was seen as archaic and unnecessary.

But tides and time wait for no man, and even “joined writing” became something to forget.  If a student could master a keyboard, why spend time with the mastery of a pen?  To touch type was the new scribal talent.

I have often heard students moan “my arm is breaking,” if they needed to hand-write more than a few lines of text.  Primary teachers speak of students who hold pencils gripped in closed fists, rather than between index and thumb.

How far have we journeyed?  Where will it lead?  Will writing in the future even be a thing we need?


Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge:

Today’s prompt: Write a piece of prose or poetry around the words cursive, touch, and forget


Moon, Room, Crescent, Black Background



My mind wanders – aimless, un-directed

Shifting from thought to thought

Visiting plans future, and past things I’ve neglected

There is no stillness in a mind thus fraught

How unlike the quiet of the room in which I lay

As the stillness of the night slowly slips away




Writing Prompt Challenge-Write a poem or piece of prose around the words “in the stillness”

Mystic Moonlight

grayscale photography of empty bed

Photo by Adi Goldstein on Unsplash

Dappled light upon the pillow falls

Summer leaves for position jockey

Making shadows dance in the breeze

As moonbeams-mysterious seek

Their grounding beneath the trees

On such a night as this

Let us dream of things as sweet

Sheltered in mystic moonlight

Until in the morn again we meet




Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge:

Today’s prompt: Write something around the words “mystic moonlight”

Beautiful Dreamer


“That’s one right moving song, Mr Foster,” the composer’s housekeeper said.

“I don’t rightly know,” Foster retorted, “I don’t need any folks saying I only write dark tunes.  I’d rather have folks singing O Susanna or Camp Town Races, especially with this dang war going on.”

Beautiful Dreamer dark, Mr. Foster?”

“Why just look at the lyrics,” he challenged. “‘Sounds of the rude world
Heard in the day, Led by the moonlight, Have all passed away . . . . Gone are the cares of
Life’s busy throng, Beautiful dreamer, Awake unto me, Beautiful dreamer, Awake unto me.’, Don’tcha see, she is goin’ to be waking to the Lord, she’s finished here below.”

“I didn’t realise,” the housekeeper muttered, “well maybe you should keep to brighter songs like Jeanie.”




Tuesday Writing Prompt:  Use “beautiful dreamer” in a piece of poetry or prose

Beautiful dreamer,
Wake unto me
Starlight and dewdrops
Are awaiting thee
Sounds of the rude world
Heard in the day
Led by the moonlight
Have all passed away
Beautiful dreamer,
Queen of my song
List’ while I woo thee
With soft melody
Gone are the cares of
Life’s busy throng
Beautiful dreamer
Awake unto me
Beautiful dreamer,
Awake unto me
Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Paul J. Frederick / Stephen Collins Foster
Beautiful Dreamer lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc, Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Jeanie with the light brown hair (a song about permanent separation)
Stephen Foster
I dream of Jeannie with the light brown hair
Borne, like a vapor, on the summer air
I see her tripping where the bright streams play
Happy as the daisies that dance on her way
Many were the wild notes her merry voice would pour
Many were the blithe birds that warbled them o’er
Oh! I dream of Jeannie with the light brown hair
Floating, like a vapor, on the soft, summer air
I long for Jeannie with the day dawn smile
Radiant in gladness, warm with winning guile
I hear her melodies, like joys gone by
Sighing round my heart o’er the fond hopes that die
Sighing like the night wind and sobbing like the rain
Wailing for the lost one that comes not again
Oh! I long for Jeannie, and my heart bows low
Never more to find her where the bright waters flow
I sigh for Jeannie, but her light form strayed
Far from the fond hearts round her native glade
Her smiles have vanished and her sweet songs flown
Flitting like the dreams that have cheered us and gone
Now the nodding wild flow’rs may wither on the shore
While her gentle fingers will cull them no more
Oh! I sigh for Jeannie with the light brown hair
Floating like a vapor, on the soft summer air
Source: Musixmatch
Songwriters: Stephen Foster / Carmen Dragon
Jeanie with the light brown hair lyrics





With Burdens Great

Woman, Prayer, Praying, Christian


Injustice seems it’s everywhere

The world plagued with disease

Financial woes and online scams

And there are far more than just these

These pressures may press you down

Place weight upon you shoulders

But that makes it simpler to offer pleas

For they are best made on our knees




Writing Prompt Challenge:  on our knees





Makeup, Makeup Brushes, Makeup Set


Your head resting upon my shoulder

A fleeting smile and suggestive wink

Caresses upon a summer’s eve

Your clutter above the bathroom sink

These things I long for –

To name but very few –

What I am trying to say –

Is in the end that I miss you.




Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge: End a piece of prose or poetry with the phrase “I miss you”