“HEY… THAT’S MY LINE, TWO!” – PROMPT #64
One of our most popular prompts was presented during week #38, and we are reprising it for our ever-expanding poet base. The concept was this simple: Take that “I wish I had written that” line from one of the poems posted at Poetic Bloomings, and for the moment, make it your own … as the title of a totally new poem. But, be sure to credit the poet and poem from which it came. Have fun!
MARIE ELENA’S BORROWED LINE:
COMMAS DON’T SCARE ME
No hooked little mark
Will catch me off guard.
No comma faux pas
Will, leave my poem marred.
© Marie Elena Good – 2012
From Nancy Posey’s Uncertainty poem Within and Beyond my Grasp
WALT’S SECOND CHANCE:
SAVED FOR SOMETIME DREAMS
A vacation in the South of France,
a chance to dance unencumbered
on the Champs-Élysées on a day
so blue we can’t help but be happy.
A day to be illness free; no trick knee,
no blocked artery, just a day…
where dark spots go away from x-rays,
a chance to verbalize emotions that are assumed.
A ticket with every number needed
to exceed my earnings in this lifetime
all in one inspired evening, leaving
everything behind to find my peace of mind.
A home to house this ever-expanding
empty nest, the best place to have raised daughters,
but we ought to lose the excess
and express ourselves more simply.
Success for those daughters to achieve
all which they aspire to and to view
the world through less cynical eyes;
this prize of life so garnished. Untarnished.
The end of conflicts where friends and enemies
stick out a hand and come to understand
what seems too good to be true; to eschew
the terrors of wars; to abhor them.
The opportunity to view these things in a life well lived
and to be forgiven for indiscretions and errors
in judgement, putting priorities in proper perspective,
rejecting all attempts to temp my loving temperament.
A night full of nothing but sleep to foster these dreams,
without the anemic schemes of a torn
and twisted psyche. It might be the greatest wish
on this dish of savory favors saved for sometime.
© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2012
Line culled from Marie Elena Good’s Uncertainty poem – DEMENTIA