Spring Fling

Ah Spring! Flowers bloom, scenting the air. Birdsong begins. What better than a contest to wake the writing brain from its winter sleep. Thank you Kaitlyn Sanchez and Ciara O’Neal for this brilliant opportunity.

Here is my entry:

Gif by Luciana Calmon on PicsArt

Spring Together

106 Words

Anjali Amit

Annie knocked at Manny’s door,
“Come out, come out, it’s Spring.”
“Trees-a-sapping,” (“No,” said Manny)
“Frogs-a-rapping,” (“No,” said Manny)
“And all the birds a-wing.” (NO,” said Manny)
“Bother me no more.”

“Tap-tap-tap, woodpeckers tapping.”
“Map, map, map, and I am mapping,
Knock not at my door.”

“Mapping? now I have a reason.
I’ll talk neither Spring nor season.
Manny, let’s a-hiking go.” (“Yes,” said Manny)
“By rivers and dales.” (“Yes,” said Manny)
“Up hills, down vales.” (“Yes, yes,” said Manny)
“I’m ready with paper and pen,”

So eager Annie
And mapping Manny
Together…stepped into Spring!

Vivian Kirkfield’s 50PreciousWords

Just 50 words to write a story with a beginning, middle, and end? That is the challenge Vivian Kirkfield sets up every year beginning 2016. And what a great kindness it is–awesome prizes to entice us to ‘exercise our writing muscles and force us to make every work count’ as she explains.

This year I gathered up my courage and plunged right in:

Going Home After School

A star-punched sky

As Mom arrives.

Steady steed in the morning

At night the car a cockle-shell craft

Launched into this rushing river

Today, though,

My golden river changes

Into a red-eyed monster

Screeching to a halt.

I know then

Home will be a long time coming.

The Unvarnished Truth

Truth trudged sadly down the road. His shoulders sagged, a frown creased his brow. Multi-hued fable danced by his side.

“Why is it,” truth asked his friend, “that people don’t listen to me? We say the same things — you and I.”

“Let me tell you a story,” replied fable.

A man was walking down a road. It was a warm and balmy day, but the man had a jacket on. The wind whistled as it blew past him.

“Look at that human in a thick woolen jacket,” he said to the sun. “I’m sure I can get him to take it off.”

The sun smiled.

The wind roared past the man. Whoosh. Whoosh. It gathered strength as it blew in from all directions. However, the louder the wind roared the more the man clutched his jacket to himself. Soon the wind grew tired.

“I give up,” he said. “Some people will never learn. You try, sun.”

It was a warm and balmy day. The man whistled as he walked. “The day seems to be made of gold,” he said to himself.

The sun shone a little warmer. A few beads of sweat formed on the man’s brow but he wiped them off. The sun grew hotter. The man looked around. The heat was now uncomfortable and the jacket just made things worse. He took it off, folded it over his arm.

The sun smiled.

“And that”, said fable, “is what I do. Take your bare words and dress them up in all the colors of the rainbow. I am the suggestion, not the force. I am the spoonful of sugar that makes the medicine go down. I am the honey…”

“Enough,” replied truth. “You are the costume I don in the world of men.”