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J Elyzabeth's Blog

A Writer's Journey of a Secluded Mind

I want you
I love you
But I can’t have you
So I’m letting you go

I know what I am looking for
Someone I can adore
Je t’aime je t’aime

I love you
I want you
I’m letting you walk out the door

I know what I’m looking for
Someone that I can adore
mi amor
je t’aime je t’aime

Saranghamnida

“Are you going to tell them?”
“Nope”
“Why not?”
Mary wiggle her fingers at the infant looking over its mother’s shoulder. Holding a finger to her lips when the baby’s eyes widened in fright. The wink received was enough for her to know the infant meant no harm.
“See!”
“Shhh,” Mary turned to her sister. “It’ll be fine. No harm, they have an infant and the infant has a home.”
Hands on hips, Anastan glared at her sister, leaning down to whisper shout, “But that is a 400-year-old dragon!”
The sisters paused when they felt a large hand on each of their shoulders, “And neither of you lovely dears will tell my wife.” The large man, similar in looks to the women, for he was their brother, walked between them to pluck the infant in question from his wife’s arms. Kissing the little one and then his wife before turning to the other guests scattered around the living room.
“Well I never!” proceeded Anastan’s flounce into the kitchen.
Mary merely raised an eyebrow at the hatch-ling now toothily looking at her over her brother’s shoulder. You are going to be a handful. It was the eyes widening and the rearing back in shock that let her know a handful and gifted. The imp. Thankfully, the family, minus a few unaware, would, should… might be able to handle a dragon? Raise a dragon?

.

<< Writingprompt.com via Twitter 7.15.2020 A baby isn’t quite what it seems >>

I know you
I’ve heard you a thousand times
In my head
In my mind
I know you
And I don’t
A dream within a dream
I know you
I’ll wait for you a thousand lives
In my heart
In my mind

Twentypence for a lifetime, a laugh, a love, a thought
Typical ignorance denied the inspiration of inflation
Wonderfully, but for a pittance the thought was lost

.

The ultimate answer is forty-two
What was the question no one knew
Envious minds reply on rote
Nodding to something that could be a joke
The end the beginning
Your imagination could find the question
One night years from now
Newly evolved in a dawning light
Eschewing the answer, what was the question?

<< Writingprompt.com via Twitter 7.12.2020 Write a poem about the number 21. >>

I am old
I am sitting here wishing on a dream that I know will never happen
Don’t settle they say
Don’t settle I repeat
But why do I feel holding out means eternity alone?

“You’re a gossip.”
“Huh?”
“You’re a gossip.” Larry looked over his shoulder. “You’re a gossip and you haven’t gossiped.”
Joe sat up in bewilderment, whiskers twitching. “I am not a gossip.” Paws folding, he lay back down; “Oh, we both know that’s not true. What didn’t I gossip?”
Larry acknowledged the words with an ear flick. Busy watching the humans walk by. One two three..
“What did I not gossip?”
Rolling to his side, Larry gave his brother a long look.
“Look mommy! The big kitty is yawning!”
Rolling his head to acknowledge the comment, Larry stretched out in the afternoon sun on the warm rock. “You neglected to mention” ear flick “that the penguins escaped yet again.”
“Wait! What?”
“What’s black, white, not dinner and sitting behind you?”

.

.

<< Writingprompt.com via Twitter 7.11.2020 – Write a short dialogue between two zoo animals about an event at the zoo that day. >>

I write because I am afraid to speak
I write because of fleeting thought
I write because I am not heard
I write because once it is thought it is forgot

Arising up out of mist
Silent wonder as ship begins to list
As sails start to twist
This syren’s call, I shall resist

.

Surrounded by water
Occluded by cloud
No footsteps have explored it
One space man has not named

.

.

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<< Writingprompt.com via Twitter 7.10.2020 Write a four-line poem about a mysterious island. Do this two times: once where each line rhymes and then again with no rhyming at all. >>

It is said the pen is more dangerous than the sword

I say it is the wielder

A swordsmith can dance among his people and cut nary a hair from their head

A writer can write words and destroy the faith of humanity

And yet

The king can cut off a single head and instill fear in all who follow

Yet the writer can write an essay on the whys of what happened

Instilling hope and faith back into the people

You tell me who is more dangerous

The one with the pen

Or the one with the sword

Both are weapons

                Be they wielded in fear or faith

And yet more dangerous is the man who wields both

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