Showing posts with label Creative Writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Creative Writing. Show all posts

Friday, June 1, 2012

More Cheese, Please

Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  Today's prompt is cheese.

Cheese, cheese, beautiful cheese
Provolone, Swiss and Edam

Colby, Jack and Muenster, too
You just can't beat 'em

A plate of Havarti, creamy and fine
So lovely with a glass of wine

For my pizza I gotta say
Mozzarella makes my day

Gouda, oh Gouda, smokey or plain
Drives my Quesadillas insane

Mac and cheese down on the farm
With lots of Cheddar and a little Parm

What more can I say about this food prepared from the pressed curd of milk?  More cheese, please!

Friday, May 25, 2012

A Sticky Situation

Photo credit:  Stephen Craven

Along the winding path and into the dense foliage walked the boy following the yips of a puppy.  He'd always wanted a puppy.

He found him trapped in a briar patch, whimpering as the thorns stabbed his tender nose.

As the boy freed the wriggling mass, the puppy jumped up and down and licked his face.

Written for the Gman of Friday Flash 55 fame, as he recovers from a serious illness. We look forward to his return.

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Standing Tall

Stretched by the waning sun
I am likened to a tree
From my shadow
I cannot flee

Written for dVerse Poetry.

Wednesday, May 2, 2012


Life unfolds before me
Like scenes within a play
Who rewrote the story
Rewind to yesterday

When the sun was shining
And my spirits they did soar
Where is the silver lining
In clouds along the shore

Posted for dVerse Poetry

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Designer Blues

“Well this just sucks,” Amy complained bitterly to her friend, Sharon, as they tried on designer jeans.  She had been a six forever, and now she was squeezing into a size ten.  On her wedding day everyone raved about how she looked in that figure-hugging gown of satin and lace.  Ever since her divorce, however, things went downhill while her weight crept upward.

“Cheer up” replied Sharon, “you still look great.  I saw that TDH checking you out at the club last week.”  TDH in their code stood for tall, dark and handsome, or in today’s lingo, a "hot guy".

“Yeah, I camouflage it very well," she said wryly.  "Some days I convince myself it’s not so bad, and other days I rationalize that I’m not the only one whose waistline has expanded or have parts that jiggle that were never meant to.”

“C’mon, let’s get a smoothie” Sharon suggested, hoping to take her friend’s mind off her woes.  “We’ll get one of those healthified ones made with fat-free frozen yogurt and skim milk.”

“All right,” Amy agreed.  “I haven’t had lunch yet anyway.  Hey, maybe I’ll renew my membership at the gym.  I sure won’t change my life sitting on the couch watching Law and Order reruns.”

“Atta girl!  I may just join you.  What have I got to lose?”

Ann sighed.  “In my case, about twenty pounds!”

Two weeks later Amy and Sharon met at the gym after work.  They each had set up a workout schedule, and Sharon was excited to see her body changing.  “I’ve already lost an inch around my waist” she exclaimed.  “That’s awesome!”

“I’m glad one of us is seeing some results,” Amy said glumly.  “I’ve lost about five pounds, but apparently in all the wrong places, if you know what I mean.  I might have to look into one of those low-cost tummy tucks.  If I lose weight, but still have lumpy, bumpy fat bulging out, what’s the point.  Covering up only works so long, you know?  Soon it will be time for swim suits.  Arrrrgggghhhh!

“Well, there’s that,” responded Sharon with a groan as she put down her weights.  “I know. How about liposuction.  I’ve got a cousin who had liposuction to lose some excess weight.  It worked for her, and she looks fantastic.”

"I guess it's something to think about," said Amy, already imagining herself at the beach in a brand new hot pink bikini.

Friday, April 20, 2012


Lying on the beach with the gentle ocean breeze caressing her body, Gina drifted from one delectable daydream to another.  The wispy white clouds drifted lazily across the sky, temporarily masking the sun's warming rays.

Suddenly her reverie was broken by the sound of someone yelling.  Her heart thumping, she jumped to her feet looking in the direction of the noise. Relief filled her when she saw two young boys playing Frisbee on the beach with their dog.

Today's post was written for the Five Sentence Fiction writing prompt based on the word "delectable".

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

The Princess

Eli was concerned about his latest dream.  It rang with an eerie reality.  Slowly he remembered...when he was just a lad his mother told him bedtime stories - fairy tales she called them.  He thought they were the same stories every mother told their children.  Ones from a fantasy land, but unlike King Arthur and Hansel and Gretel, her stories were tales of the animal kingdom.

Image source: djajakarta
The tale she told most often was about a princess who was raised by a family of giant birds.  They lived at the top of a huge tree in the middle of the enchanted forest.  They were the rulers of the forest and one day they found a tiny baby whose parents were killed by the beast who roamed the night just beyond the forest's edge.  They took the baby to their nest, cared for her and raised her as their own.  Because she was different, they made her a princess.  For years the princess lived among the tree tops until one day she realized that she didn't belong here, that there was another world below.  She bid a tearful good-bye to her bird family.  Over the years, her family had grown and she had hundreds of siblings.  They gathered to carry her safely to the ground where she began her new life.

But now Eli questioned whether that was really a fairy tale.  It might explain the weird dreams he had been having.  Could his mother be the princess of her tale?  Was she an orphan after all or was she really hatched?

Written for Magpie Tales.

Wednesday, April 4, 2012


Image Source: image: ParkeHarrison
During the night something strange has happened to Eli.  He stirs to consciousness only to feel all prickly.  His foggy mind is wondering who put all these sticks in his bed.  As he tries to stand up, sticks stab his bare feet.  Ouch!  What? 

It appears that Eli is standing in a giant bird nest.  This is ridiculous, he thinks.  There is no such thing as giant bird nests, or am I losing my mind? 

As he begins to climb out of his prickly confines, he stops to take a look around, and is startled at what he sees.  Tree tops.  Pines, oaks, etc.  How is it that he is standing in a giant bird nest at the top of a tree?

Oh no, he thought, I'm not standing in a giant bird nest.  It's much worse.  I am six inches tall, standing in a normal bird nest at the top of a tree.  Help!!!

When Eli finally did wake up, he found bits of twigs between his toes and a feather in his hair.

Written for Magpie Tales.

Friday, March 16, 2012

Runaway Muse

When my muse up and decides to take a trip, probably to some lush tropical island, she does me a favor.  She leaves me with exactly 55 words with which to create my next post.  The problem is she doesn't tell me which 55 words.  That's something I have to figure out on my own.

Written for Friday Flash 55.

Friday, March 9, 2012

Spring: Friend or Foe?

The flowers are blooming, and the trees are budding.  Mother Nature decorates with brilliant colors and sprouts tender leaves.  Dandelions dot the landscape like yellow stars in a sky of green.

Noses are sneezing and sniffling; eyes water and foreheads wrinkle in pain.  Spring is praised for it's beauty and cursed for it's allergy-inducing pollens.

Written for Friday Flash 55.

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Designer Beauty

Spring bursts brightly forth
From the barren winter ground
Designer beauty

Written for dVerse Poetry.

Friday, March 2, 2012

A Lesson in Patience

The mama cat sat staring into the weeds at the edge of the farm.  Only the tip of her tail moved.  "Patience is a virtue", she tells her litter, as they watch her.

Suddenly she pounces into the weeds and turns back with a plump field mouse.  Our patience has been rewarded.  We have dinner."

Looks like there's no dinner for you guys!
Written for Friday Flash 55.

Friday, February 24, 2012

The Door

Image Source:  Spiros Vathis
Before her stands a mysterious door.  Though afraid, she finds herself drawn to it.  She has a key.  The lock turns; she crosses the threshold.  She needn't have been frightened.  This is her dream come true.  A world of merry-go-rounds and games, hot dogs and popcorn, cotton candy and soda fountains.  It was...a carnival.

Written for Friday Flash 55, this was inspired by an episode of the "The Ghost Whisperer", where a door suddenly appears in the middle of the street.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

The Voices Are Silent

Image source: Anuj Kumar Pradham
The voices are silent
Their silence brings
A different kind of agony
No chaos or anger
Only confusion and sadness

The voices are silent
They were my enemies
And strangely my friends
Their silence brings
Truth and despair

There is no freedom
Even with the silence
There is no escaping
Where they made me go
What they made me know

With or without them
I have no self
No peace, only pain
No joy, only misery
No life

Edited to clarify:  This poem was written and posted for dVerse Poetry, and is purely fictional and not reflective of my life.

Friday, February 17, 2012

The Diner

It had been a long day and their relaxing swim had left Edith and Francine hungry.  "Are you ready?" called Edith from the hallway. 

"Almost.  Just looking for my slip-ons", replied Francine. 

"They're by the door where you left them.  Really, Francine, you are getting absent minded", chided Edith.  So now that we've solved the mystery of the missing shoes, where do you want to eat?"

"How about Mexican?  I heard there's a new place on Channel Road across from the drug store."

"No, that's too heavy.  You know I get heartburn on the travel day if I eat too much", Edith reminded.  How about that little deli on the that closed last year."  I know how about that diner on Main.  That place always has such good food."

"And cheap, too," retorted Francine, "but you're right.  That's another thing that hasn't changed in the last 20 years.  Do you remember the first time we came here?  We ate at the diner nearly every night."

"Of course I do", said Edith quietly.  That was the year Chester passed away, and the year I had gall bladder surgery.  Neither of us felt like fixing meals."

"Yeah, they had the most delicious BLTs.  Why they even had a garden and grew their own tomatoes.  Home grown are so much better than store bought.  I think they do something to those.  They don't even look like tomatoes."

"Those sandwiches were huge, and only $1.25."  You just couldn't beat it."

"That was 20 years ago.  Prices on everything have gone up, but they are still a great value," said Edith.

"Well you always were the frugal one.  Shall we go?"

The sisters drove to the diner to reminisce over juicy tomatoes, smokey bacon and crisp lettuce, the things memories are made of.

When they pulled into the parking lot, they saw that the place was packed.  "Apparently, we aren't the only ones with this great idea," exclaimed Edith.  

Then they saw it, in the window was a banner.  The diner was having a 20th anniversary special...  You guessed it.  BLTs for the long-ago price of $1.25- while supplies last, of course. 

Written for Write on Edge.  You may remember Francine and Edith from The Beach Cottage.

Friday, February 10, 2012

Jane or Janet

The following is a fictional story written for Write on Edge.  

Jane packs her bags and head for the beach.  Two glorious weeks...days spent lying in the sun and dancing the nights away.  You see, Jane is plain.  Jane works long hours as a waitress, saving for her annual trek to the sea.  

Here she becomes Janet.  Janet is cute, fun loving and carefree.  "It's amazing what adding a "t" to your name can do for your confidence" she said to herself.  Free from the waitress uniform, the pony tail and name tag..."Jane".

Janet settles into her lounge chair, with her music and and an ice cold Diet Coke in her hand.  "Life is good" she sighs.  As she slathers on suntan oil, from several chairs away she hears, "Can I help you with that?"

It's the blond, beach bum surfer dude she'd seen earlier.  "That would be great, thanks!  By the way, my name's Janet"  

Jane would never do that; Janet does.

They chat for a while and it turns out the surfer dude is actually a trust fund kid.  Richard G. Harding, III, but more commonly known here at the beach as Rick.  He, too, has a double identity.  He desperately wants to shed his rich kid persona while Janet is trying to escape her dull life as a waitress. Often times people want what someone else has - those with straight hair want curly, brunettes want to be blond, you know that whole "grass is greener" thing. 

"I know a great club where they have an awesome DJ and the best margaritas in town, if you're interested" Rick invited.
Again not something Jane does.  She gets off her shift at the diner, goes home and watches reruns until she falls asleep with her cat.  Dull!

Janet, however, responded with an enthusiastic "I'd love to!  I am staying at the Windsor, room 423."

Rick and Janet danced the night away on a sea of margaritas, and then talked until the wee hours exchanging phone numbers, email addresses and friending each other on Facebook.  

That night Janet found something that had been missing for a long time.  She found the real Jane.

After meeting Rick and rediscovering herself, she legally changed her name to Janet, since Janet helped her find herself.  They are now married and live at the beach.  Rick still surfs but Janet is no longer a waitress.  Both have found their greener grass.

Friday, February 3, 2012

Nursery Rhyme Redo: This Old Man

Image Source:  Imelda's Photostream

This old man, he played dumb
He played blackjack for my rum
So what the heck, stack the deck
And give the man a loan
This old man is in the zone

There are more verses with different variations.  The origin is uncertain, with the first recorded version in  Anne Gilchrist's Journal of the English Folk Dance and Song Society (1937).

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Beyond The Night

Though the sky at night be red
Tell me of the day ahead
Speak to me at dawn's light
Of things beyond mortal sight
Walk with me upon the grass
Where others before have passed
What do they know that I know not
All the things that time forgot

Written for dVerse poetry.

Friday, January 20, 2012

The Golden Rule

The Lego store in the Mall of America
From the Golden Rule to the modern catch phrase "what goes around, comes around", the lesson is the same, and that was the lesson shared once between two kindergarteners.  Alex knew Bobby didn't have many toys, and offered to let him play with his new Lego set.  Both boys felt better about themselves after that.

Written for Friday Flash 55.


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