Oct 23
This was written for Crimson’s Creative Challenge #50
CCC#50
The gates are locked
please let me in
Don’t leave me standing
I must come in
It is my time
please set me free
Don’t leave me out
please let me in
I know I’ve sinned
please don’t rescind
Open up the gates
please let me in
Here I will remain
waiting and anticipating
For the gates to
open for me
Heaven is where
I want to be
Oct 2
Brilliance of colours
Shine through stained glass reflecting
yellows, blues, and reds
This was written for Crimson’s Creative Challenge #47.
Sep 25
The hill was steep
You couldn’t hear a peep
Till we rolled down the hill
Like Jack & Jill
Giggles and laughs
we looked back at the path
To where we started
Our butts really smarted
Then … one of us farted
This was written for Crimson’s Creative Challenge #46.
Sep 18
This poem is for Crimson’s Creative Challenge #45.
Standing on the shoreline I gaze across the river
The day is chilly but yet I stay put and shiver
Daydreaming with memories of my childhood
Of all the times when I’d come here to collect driftwood
The water back then was always choppy
We’d ride down to the river in my father’s jalopy
I come here now to reminisce
Here is where we had our first kiss
So many wonderful memories
Over half a century
This has to be my favorite place
Memories that I’ll always embrace
Aug 21
Fred, look over there, what the hell is that?
Ethell, that there is a Canadian goose and he’s staring back at us.
What do you think he’s doing here Fred?
He’s probably cruizing around just like we are in search of food.
Maybe we should go over and introduce ourselves. I hear Canadians are quite friendly.
I’ve heard that Canadian geese can be quite rude Ethell if you get too close to them.
Okay, Fred then let’s get the flock out of here.
Pierre5018 [CC BY-SA 4.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)]
This was written for Crimson’s Creative Challenge #41.
Aug 14
Sarah and Mary had gone into the woods one day to find the perfect place where they could sit, sketch or paint the surrounding scenery.
As they were walking they came to a clearing spotting a small set of stairs. They both got a puzzled look on their faces and began questioning why was a set of stairs here. They went up a knoll and at the top, there was nothing except a continuation of the woods, or so it appeared. The light in the clearing was quite bright.
Could this possibly be the “Stairway to Heaven”?
This was written for Crimson’s Creative Post #40.
Aug 7
I see a bridge that’s made very badly
I would pay someone to fix it gladly
To let the boats through to the other side
Only of course when there’s no rough tide
The wood is good, the chains are strong
When they built it something went wrong
When it’s down you can walk across
Just be careful not to trip on the moss
This silly little poem was written for Crimson’s Creative Challenge #39.
Jul 24
Jul 3
#CCC#34See
“Seems like a strange place to put a fence don’t you think? Looks like they wanted to give you the impression that it’s a bridge, yet I don’t see any water, do you? Want to go and explore?” she asked.
“I’m sure it’s private property but … what the hell, he said, Let’s see where it goes at least.”
There was a bridge, across the road
From here I could see there were toads
We crossed the road and to our surprise
The bridge was covered in big black fly’s
Then it hit us like a ton of bricks
The smell was bad and it was thick
So we left the bridge alone
Decided to run, all the way home
“It’s bloody sewer pipes. Why make such a pretty bridge over something that smells so bad!” she said.
“Come on, let’s get as far away as possible from this place. They probably did this to deter people from poking around on their property.”
This post is for Crimson’s Creative Challenge #34.
Jun 26
CCC#33
Bundles of sticks lay on the forest floor
Thinking to myself,
What a score!
Baskets I could make and
I would with no mistake
Carry them back to my cabin,
I put them in my wagon
Suddenly I stopped
and thought
Someone made these bundles
and then I heard a rumble
I put them back quick
thinking I was slick
I grabbed the wagons handle
This walk no longer a ramble
I ran as fast as I could
All turned out good
This was written for Crimson’s Creative Challenge.
