While canvas dries
the colors rise
revealing its own history
before my eyes
I realize
how life is quite a mystery
painting by CD-W
daily word prompt: Mystery
As Canvas Dries
5
Author Archives: Carolyn Dennis-Willingham, Author
When the Party’s Over
When the party’s over
where to go from here?
curl into a den of woe
and wait to disappear?
Breaths of life sustains me
when others fill my room
without their presence, the lonely heart
retreats within the womb
Why must I be so absent
in the carriage of myself
that I sit so idly dormant
on a dusty solo shelf
Do only I allow to see
myself through other’s eyes?
Surely there’s another way
than gowns that glamorize.
What to Know Before Pitching Your Book
Grateful for the publication of my article on A Writer’s Path
Don’t Masquerade Your Parade
If you think I’m ghoulish, you should see my sister.
Okay, maybe not.
Painter/Author’s reminder:
Don’t Masquerade Your Parade. March proudly!
Paintings by CD-W
daily word prompt: Ghoulish
Two crackers shy of a box
She’s here. Now.
No need to check on me.
Go home, Miss Helen,
moonshine maker.
Miss Helen
two crackers shy of a box
hair colored orange (she thinks is red)
pokes out on the ends like soggy cactus needles
unless she’s driving Roadster
pulls red tam pulled tight over head
big bosoms poke steering wheel
with hands clutched tight
elbows poking out on both sides
Peers through windshield
wearing aviator goggles.
She’s here. Now.
No need to check on me.
Go home, Miss Helen,
moonshine maker.
Beats her gums about town folk –
“Saw Betty at the Five and Dime…”
“Oh, Lordy, the dentist, he’s …”
I stop listening
Think of something else.
Oh, Lordy.
She slaps and fluffs a couch pillow.
Dust bunnies flit around her orange hair.
Don’t lay down! Don’t lay down.
Go home, Miss Helen.
moonshine maker
My house, too small
for two crackers.
photo credit
daily word prompt: fluff
Damn Straight!
I don’t ride a horse
I don’t shoot a gun
I eat Mexican food and barbecue
and bask in Texas sun
I don’t say “ain’t”
I don’t chew or spit
I can put on a Texas drawl, y’all
but only when it fits
I don’t own an oil gusher
Still, I’ve got my Texas roots
I can play blackjack, kick back
sportin’ western boots.
First rate?
Damn straight!
painting by CD-W
Photography Gods
Where do the red birds go when they die?
While keeping their colors, they blend with the sky
and swirl with the clouds in a free-form of flight
with feathers at peace, to the heavens alight
Authors note: Strange how this happened, how photography can be magic. I found the original photo on my computer. Yes, the cardinal is a yard decoration stuck in a planter against a stone wall. But how did I capture the below photo? At night, perhaps?
With a tad of photo editing, a redbird floated amongst the clouds and twirled the above poem toward my palm.
Here’s the original photo:
Medicine For The People
This is so beautiful. I’m in love with this music and artist!
Wear It Well
Feed the Birds
Come feed the little birds, show them you care
And you’ll be glad if you do
Their young ones are hungry
Their nests are so bare
All it takes is tuppence from you
And you’ll be glad if you do
Their young ones are hungry
Their nests are so bare
All it takes is tuppence from you
Feed the birds, tuppence a bag,
Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag
“Feed the birds, ” that’s what she <he> cries
While overhead, her <his> birds fill the skies
Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag
“Feed the birds, ” that’s what she <he> cries
While overhead, her <his> birds fill the skies
Lyrics by Songwriters: Richard M. Sherman / Robert B. Sherman (Mary Poppins)
Feed the Birds lyrics © Walt Disney Music Company
painting by CD-W from a photo I took in Italy
Carolyn Dennis-Willingham 