Miss Pompous puffed out her chest and said, braying,
“My Chanel suit and shoes are all new!!!”
I lifted my chin at her neighing,
saying,
“You should buy a kazoo.
Or a kangaroo.
‘Cause THIS woman you CANNOT outdo!”
And with the last word, I showed her the bird-
Not a finger, you silly,
(painting by C. Dennis-Willingham)
daily word prompt: Priceless
The same photo from a different perspective
The same “fact” with opposing views
It is rumored that Native Americans never “saw” the “invisible” European ships coming toward them, that it was too “alien” to their experiences for their minds to grasp the concept.
However:
There’s a more obvious answer for the odd times when Cook’s ship didn’t spur a reaction from people on the shore. While we can’t disprove the extraordinary notion that the ships were indeed invisible, I think the more prosaic solution is that the natives were living on the edge of survival, and that anything that wasn’t a threat or didn’t contribute to their well-being could be safely ignored.
And as panhandlers and wheelchair users can tell you, just because you’re ignored doesn’t mean you’re invisible.
… ponder with intention.
(I left out some pictures to tickle your imagination)
Grandma says she visits Mollybird land.
But Grandma is silly.
She plays in the sand.
She hops in a chair,
I see her eyes glisten
She tells me to sit down
and carefully listen.
“There’s a place,” she says, “where
popsicles grow sideways,
where Lollipop trees
sprout only on Sundays.
Where cows milk the garden
The doggy yells, ‘Moo,’
And the carrot pops up
and says, ‘Howdy Do!’
The dragon blows fire
to light up the coals
so miniture rhinos
can climb from their holes.
At lunchtime,
oh, we’re too busy to eat.
We paint with the squirrels
and then take our seats.
We sit by the ocean
and blow seahorse bubbles
Our thoughts disappear
but our vision, it doubles!
If Tina the Tiger finds you,
don’t worry.
She’ll tickle you fast
then run off in a hurry!
Old Peter Parrot
doesn’t like peace and quiet
He prefers to squawk loudly
and dress like a pirate.
Then, when it’s time,
the Queen steps on her chair,
and the bicycling frog
is the first to be there.
Everyone cheers
and why would they not?
She makes them remember
the fun they forgot.
Now, if you don’t believe me,
of course it’s just fine.
But my unicorn’s here
and I must leave on time.
How I get home?
It’s the best thing, no doubt!
Oh, don’t forget.
If you whistle real loud.
My silly hippo
will float down from the clouds.”
I take hold of the whistle.
I blow super hard.
A hippo? Really?
Will land in her yard?
© Carolyn Dennis-Willingham, CDW Creations
Lollipop- daily word prompt
I haven’t worked with photoshop in a long time. Starting over was NOT like riding a bicycle. But I did it, albeit in a slow, Carolyn fashion. As most of you know, I am currently writing my fourth novel set in 1963. As my dad used to say, it’s a booger-bear. So, writing children’s books gives me a breath of fresh air. (Yes, I go to sleep rhyming, then pull out my hair.)
Here’s a sample of my latest. It is a reminder for children to keep their imaginations open and active as they listen to a Grandma tell her granddaughter about a magical place.
… Have you traveled somewhere exciting lately?
Yes, in my imagination to here:
painting by CD-W
Sometimes, a rock is just a rock. Not this time. If you squint or close one eye, you will see a person with a face either motioning you with an arm to come inside his dwelling. Or, maybe motioning you to stop and come no closer.
Or is it just another Carolyn thing?
Hmmm….
before I Unraveled him. Literally.
I don’t sew. Really. But man, do I love fabrics. So, I got my mother’s 1970’s Singer fixed. I’m terrified of the thing.
I started the first of my grandchildren’s Easter Bunnies. The ears came out extremely wonky, the face almost distorted. I unraveled the thread and started over. And started over. And, started over, my patience unravelling with the orange thread.
But now, I’m done. I know it’s not perfect but, as I like to say, if it was perfect, nobody would believe I’d created it.
Okay, back to working on my latest manuscript….
We wonder how she sleeps at night
with such a mighty horn
We know she takes it off most times
pretending she’s a mule.
We Ruminate and contemplate
Why is it that she hides?
Since her beauty is a treasure
where real magic lives inside.
Be yourself, our dear one
Show your colors bright!
For without you, we authors have
no words that we can write!
featured image photo credit
Carolyn Dennis-Willingham 