Past Haiku

days expired, life lived

authentic antiquity

today’s memories

Inspired by the prompt at

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Avenue of Imagination

Photo provided by Parul Kashyap Thakur

     Sunlight dancing through the canopy of trees provided a kaleidoscope of flickering shadows on the forest floor.  It was one of the reasons Cassie sought sanctuary within its fragrant depths.  A safe haven, here she could escape, blend in, and find refuge.

     Surrounded by towering oaks, she felt protected.  She sang, danced, and chased shadows.   Her imagination unleashed, she penned stories and created illustrations of the beings she imagined lived there: unicorns, dragons, and fairies.  

      Years later, the avenue of towering trees were woefully replaced by condos and street lamps.  Illusions gone, only memories remain of that distant enchanted place.

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Betrayal

A vision in white, my bride glides towards me to the triumphant strain of Mendelssohn's march. 

“I can’t marry you.” 

Horrified.

"I’m pregnant with your brother’s baby.” 

Enraged.

 My fists connect, 

flowers fly,

and the best man is down for the count.

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Disaster Averted

    
 
  Adjusting the oven temperature to 425 degrees, I discovered my protégé, washing chicken pieces with Dawn dish soap.

“STOP!”

     Horrified, I quickly rescued tonight’s main course from the suds, rinsing each piece with hot water.

  Seasoned and baked, no one will know.

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Snail Mail

        Doesn’t anyone, anywhere write letters or

send cards in the mail anymore?  Could there be anything better than walking out to the mailbox and finding something other than bills or advertisements?  Sadly the days for sending cards or letters (now referred to as snail mail) is a thing of the past.  People just don’t do it.  It is so much easier to shoot an email to someone or type up a status on Facebook.  A few keystrokes and you’re done.  Not only that, it is cheaper, and instantaneous.  You don’t have to wait for the mailman to show up. 

         Recently a blogging group with whom I am affiliated, Blog-A-Rhythm, challenged all of us to connect via snail mail.  It was during a time when I was taking a break from the internet and writing.  Quite honestly, I hadn’t even seen the buzz about it on the group wall on Face Book.  My dear friend Hema (you all know her as Pixie @ Pixie’s Take on Everything.), enlightened me.    Her way of enlightening me was telling me she needed my address because she wanted to send me something.  OK dokey!  It was after the fact that I realized that it was for a writing challenge and a way for all of us connected online to become more connected in the real world.

         Anyways, one day the mail came and I discovered a lovely card from my dear friend.  She couldn’t have found a more inspiring card for me.  I simply love it.  It sits right beside my computer so I can read it whenever I need inspiration or self-affirmation.  She believes in me, and I believe in her.  She is one amazing storyteller and collects college degrees of all sorts like I collect movies and card games.  Just goes to prove she is scary smart. 

          
          I am blessed to have such a dear friend.  My life is better because of her.  I have met people from all over the world through blogging.  My life is richer because of them, and I hope that in some small way their lives are richer for knowing me.

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That One Crazy Friend

 

     A song playing and I am transported.

      Stunned, I quickly crank the volume losing myself to the beat. 

      Tears glisten in my eyes, as I belt out the lyrics. Priceless snippets of you flood my senses:  dancing on tabletops, mooning the student body at the pep rally.   I even remember the aftermath of that one crazy night that began with shots of tequila, stealing the Mackinac Island Ferry, and ending in a night in jail after your speech to the cops that you were Jack Sparrow.

  I’d sacrifice everything to experience reckless insanity again with you just one last time.

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Grab Haiku

chasing destiny

grasping for whimsical dreams

seizing the day

Inspired by the prompt at

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I Don't Do Coffee

    
 Rounding the corner, bleary eyed, Amanda made a beeline for the coffee pot.  

Damn! Bone dry! Why?  

     In melt down mode, she whirled around to demand an explanation to the unthinkable and spied the new receptionist, Chrissy, 
sipping a Mountain Dew,
 oblivious. 

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