NapoWriMo 2016 – Day 9: Aster

Posted on by Jane

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Aster la vista
The flower to see
He loves me
Aster mañana
Tomorrow, maybe?
He loves me not
Aster luego
Take care, my dear friend
He loves me
It aster be done
Now this is the end
He loves me not

I’ve caught up now.  I’ll be back…

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NapoWriMo 2016 – Day 8: Spring fever

Posted on by Jane

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Sunshine rays through windows clear
Final frosts pave way for welcome warmth
Budding flora brightens the earth

Early morning mists rise from the earth
Clock ticks and fogs slowly clear
Felines practise yoga in the warmth

Longer days bring smiles of warmth
We, on this, our precious Earth,
care to make our Springtime feelings clear

Clear of Winter’s gloom, earth quakes with the warmth of humanity.

Catching up, with a little more Spring fever 🙂

NapoWriMo 2016 – Day 6: Purple Poppies

Posted on by Jane

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A purple poppy
Picked from paternal pa’s porch
Pops! Perfect present.

Based on a true story. My Mum brought me a gift of some poppy seeds years ago; offspring of some that my great grandfather had first planted in his garden. I grew some, and they were a delicious purple colour. I still have some seeds from the batch I grew – time to get sowing my heirloom plant, methinks (hope they’re still OK).

NapoWriMo 2016 – Day 4: Letter to a fan

Posted on by Jane

Dear Fan

Thank you for your letter.

Yes, I can do much better, but I have a bad cold, and I’m feeling quite old. So, of course, I sound a little hoarse. I’m sure you would, too, were you in my shoe.

Now, because I can’t sing, I’m doing this thing; penning this ditty whilst trying to be witty – acting like a dolt. But it’s all your fault!

You took the wind from my sails, yet the breeze prevails. It’s lashing at the curtains and I’m fairly certain you’re to blame – playing your draughty game. As I lie in my bed, you’re messing with my head. Your blades are swishing and I? I’m wishing you’d stop before I pop.

I press your button. This isn’t a put on! You’re broken, and unspoken you whirl faster and faster and before I pass the point of no return, before you burn out, I reach out and take pains to turn you off at the mains.

The air is still and calm; I’ve come to no real harm. And tomorrow, with little sorrow, I’ll sling you in the bin.

With the warmest of regards,