A Sort Of Oasis

Parched thoughts rained hopelessly
onto her diary pages…
racing madly to keep its pace
with the rich oasis of liveliness
that once enriched these pages…
“Madness”, I often thought;
yet, her tear-stained words make me wonder
“Isn’t this her hope?”

Sammi Cox Weekend writing

Thank You ☺☺


I’ll reveal myself…
When prayers pierce the
night skies calling out to the lucky stars,
when promises softly rip the horizon
ushering in the glitter of the unknown…
when mortality forces the world
to don the shrouds of anguish,
you’ll need my secrets then…
To be the radiance as stars dim
or maybe, to just take a step
you’ll need my secrets then…
And my secret will be ours…

Thank you 😊😊

(Photo by Mindaugas Vitkus on Unsplash)

A Place Called Hope

Image credit- Pixabay– ArtTower

Ogres do vanish,
as we outgrow our lively days
of naivety, so they say.
Yet, from my days here, I know;
Ogres and demons remain
Just we don’t name them so.
We fear them each moment; as
They lurk in our dark forest of thoughts,
Among looming trees backed by deadly fog.
Fear does make us cower,
Till we realize we need to breathe.
So we build a shrine to all that is bright.
Thus, we remain calm and content and hopeful;
Within our dark forest of thoughts,
Among looming trees backed by deadly fog.

(This post was written in response to What Do You See Prompt t#31 hosted by Sadje. Thank You Sadje 🙂 The challenge is to write an original story, poem, or a caption. from the given picture)