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Original Six-Word Saturday Hostess
(This three-week, 7-days-a-week word challenge has been fun. Lee over at Birdwatching Adventures Plus tempted me to go another week or two on it, but I think my schedule is pressed enough without committing myself to a longer period. However, I think she’s going to continue at least one more week, so if any of you haven’t tried it, why not join her.)
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I’ve been participating in the “Six-Word Saturday” challenges for some time now, and I enjoy it. I don’t have something to say every single Saturday, but it’s fun to take part as often as I can. I also began posting a “Seven-Word Sunday” post on two of my blogs last year. And, again, I don’t hit it every single week, but I post as often as I can.
Now, this week, I got a really kooky idea. Why not do a post every day of the week — each day receiving its own number of words?
Monday = One-Word Post
Tuesday = Two-Word Post
Wednesday = Three-Word Post
Thursday = Four-Word Post
Friday = Five-Word Post
Saturday = Six-Word Post
Sunday = Seven-Word Post
So that’s what I’m going to do for the next three weeks. Now, I will be posting other regular posts as well, as the mood strikes me, but I’m going to challenge myself to say something relevant — or at least that means something to me — in the restricted number of words for each day.
I’d like to invite all my readers to take part in the experiment. There’s no challenge except to yourself — to come up with words that say something significant without any excess fluff.
If you take part, there’s no need to link back to me. You’re welcome to post a link to your own posts in the “Comments” of my post for that day if you want to do so. But there’s no requirement. And you don’t have to take part every day. Just think about it and see if you can have some fun with it.
Of course, on Saturdays, I will link back to the original hostess of the “Six-Word Saturday” challenge, just because I think it’s the polite thing to do.
Now — to get started on this unique posting experience!
12 Days of Christmas Blessings: Day 8 (Sorry I missed connecting on Day 7.) Hope you enjoy this trip down memory lane from 60 years ago (1956) on this happy new year’s day, 2016.
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Sit back and forget about the rest of the world for 30 minutes. Take a little trip to Mayberry, USA, and get a whole new lease on life.
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Carols:
Floating music,
Making merry sound waves,
Singing happy tidings from God
To man.
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Okay, so call me strange. I love cinquain, but I’m always looking for new and slightly unusual subjects for that form of poetry. Today I was caught up in thoughts about the animal/insect kingdom, and decided to just give vent to some of my personal feelings. No offense intended.
BUGGED
Pesky!
Bad mosquito!
Buzzing around my head.
I raise my hand, and with one slam,
You’re dead!
`
SWINGERS
Monkeys!
I detest them!
All wiry arms and legs,
Ugly faces; grating chatter —
They stink!
`
BIRD BENEFITS
Bird talk.
That’s what you get
When you own a parrot.
And that’s not all they do for you:
Poop too.
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Yes, I’m writing a letter to Santa in October this year. I felt it was really important to touch bases with him on something. So I’m posting this letter “special delivery” today.
Dear Santa,
I know you know who I am, but I’m not sure just which list you have me on. And since there’s just 2 1/2 months left until Christmas, I thought maybe I’d better get some clarification from you before it’s too late. Could you please define the two words I’ve listed below? Be as specific as you can — you know — with as many examples as possible. Feel free to use an extra sheet of paper if necessary. And I’d appreciate hearing back from you right away. Time is of the essence in this situation.
Please Define the Following Words:
NAUGHTY:_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
NICE:__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Thank you, Santa. I know you are a reasonable man.
I am anxiously awaiting your reply.
Your friend,
Sandy Conner
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Hurray, I’m doing the Friday Fictioneers challenge this week. Just can’t seem to get it in every week, but I do like to take part when I can. If you’d like to join in and write a 100-word story based on this picture — by Marie Gayle Stratford — just follow the link to Rochelle’s place for the easy instructions.
HUMPTY DUMPTY
Trying to look casual, he wiggled across the desk. Sherry, his owner, was on break. This was his only chance if he were ever going to connect with that hot pink number over on Wally’s desk. Wow, she was something else!
He was looking cool in his blue striped suit; she’d be impressed.
Whew! This was hard work, but he was almost to the edge. Then came the dangerous part, but, hey, a mouse had to do what a mouse had to do. Love was worth the risk.
“Okay … at the edge. Now, one big jump, and …”
“Hey, Sherry, your mouse just fell in the floor and broke into a dozen pieces!”
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Decided to visit some poems from my past. I had almost forgotten about writing some of these, so I dusted them off and stuck them into a brand new post for all the readers who are new to my site in the past couple of years. Hope you enjoy them.
WELL, I’LL BE BLOGGED!
I think I have a lot to say —
Too much to finish in one day.
If I record a daily log,
I’ll have the skeleton of a total blog.
And if I flesh that skeleton out
And give it life, I have no doubt
Readers will gather round about
And greet each shining post with joyful shout.
I’ll shock the timid, cheer the sad,
Enrage the liberal and make him mad,
And all I write, be it good or bad,
To cyberspace my own two cents will add.
A POEM WITH ONLY FOUR VOWELS
Sometimes I write too long.
Sometimes I write too short.
Sometimes I write to make a point.
Sometimes I write for sport.
Now WordPress challenged me
To write a post that’s strange.
Cannot be done the easy way.
I have to make a change.
They say but twenty-five
Of letters are allowed.
And if I’m brave, they then advise
That I leave out a vowel!
So in this little poem,
One vowel I’ll avoid.
I hope it won’t be sorely missed,
And my good name destroyed.
Let’s see, what can I choose?
There’s only five to start.
Oh, my, this is a challenge real.
WordPress, please have a heart!
Okay, I’ve made my choice.
So happy I can be.
The vowel I’ve chosen to ignore
Lives between ‘T’ and ‘V’.
CONTEMPLATIONS ON LEONARDO DA VINCI’S THE LAST SUPPER
Behold the blessed, holy convocation,
Preserved for us to ponder as we gaze.
In transient elements, the artist painted
Eternal substance; impartations that amaze.
We look upon the faces art has captured
As loved disciples try to understand
The Master’s words; He speaks of sacrifices
And of His blood and body freely given for man.
Their eyes – so full of love, yet consternation,
Trying to grasp full meaning of this meal.
All other Passovers remembered history,
But now the sacrifice sits here with them, so real.
In colors both subdued and yet alive,
The artist welcomes me to come join in
Our Lord’s last supper and His revelation:
He’ll now go forth to pay the price for all my sin.
BORED
I am bored … so bored.
I need something else to do.
Wrack my brain … the pain.
What will help? Don’t have a clue.
Talk on phone … endless drone.
Do my nails until they gleam.
Clean desk drawer … fun chore:
Found lost candy and hand cream.
Still I’m bored … so bored.
Without something else to try,
I’ll have no choice … guilty voice:
Must start my real work by and by.
REQUIEM
What? You ask how was this keyboard
Torn asunder piece by piece?
I admit it was my doing:
Thought perhaps my pain ‘twould ease.
For I cannot find my music;
Cannot hear the melody.
Cannot feel the beat, the rhythm;
And, of course, no harmony.
Still, my soul keeps searching, reaching;
Won’t believe the gift is gone.
It once coursed throughout my being;
Every breath exhaled a song.
Every heartbeat set a tempo;
Notes cascaded from my mind;
Even in sleep, my dreams invaded —
Nocturnes delicate, sublime.
Now, I’ve only fleeting memories
Of creating symphonies.
Tragedy beyond my bearing:
There’s no music left in me!
LONGING FOR THEM NOW
Bright flashes of blissful moments,
Fluttering pages of Christmas memories.
Drifting through my mind.
Pages of memories of childhood beam
With living, expectant Christmas dreams.
Longing for them now.
Remembering how each page was able to ignite
My imagination, which brought each one to life.
Oh happy, happy days!
Bright daydreams & wishes,
Make-believing magic,
Found within the pages –
The Christmas catalogs.
The Happy Wordcrafter 