Day the thirtieth

Today the prompt is write about something that returns.


Back again

Each year as the spring creeps into
Winter's room, and slowly pushes
Aside the dead twigs and leaves,
There appear on the hillside some
Alien lives, emerging from the ground
As rain and sunlight draws them up
And unwinding as little monstrous
Stems and growing deer horns.
And each year I start by stamping on
Each one that I see and try to hold
Back the inexorable march of
The army of
Bracken!

It is a battle I always lose,
And I always shall.

Day the twentieth

Today the prompt is a home made gift.

Flight.

Come rain, come wind, come all kinds of weather
We fly in the sky, we fly there together.
We joust with our words, and joke with a grin,
'Tis the magic of friendship where all does begin!

Day the twelfth

Today the prompt is to write a triolet.

One day


This day was born in the silver grey of rain
And grew wise from the added soft of sun;
It danced to keening windsong over and again;
This day was born in the silver grey of rain
And battled man's insane tyranny of pain
And lived through all the hours 'til it was done;
This day was born in the silver grey of rain
And grew wise from the added soft of sun.