Posted in Creative Writing, Daily Prompt, Poetry, Writing

Boisterous

By Scott Bailey © 2018

Our boy is a bundle
Of boisterous fun
But he doesn’t know
When to stop the fun
And hurts someone
(Rarely himself)
Because of his mental health.
What to do?
What to do?
I am no expert
And no expert
Seems to know
What to do.
Move him on
Move him on
Is all we get
But we will not give up
Like them
His challenges will be his victory

Photo by Scott Bailey

In response to my daily prompt Physical

#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

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Posted in Creative Writing, Daily Prompt, Poetry, Writing

Dividend

By Scott Bailey © 2018

Your flesh is the price
Your blood sweat and tears
The dividend you pay
To no one you know
For reasons unknown
But still, you pay it
On and on and on
Until you have nothing left
No legacy
No remembrance
And still
It will not be enough

Image from Pixabay

In response to my daily prompt Dividend

#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

Posted in Creative Writing, Daily Prompt, Poetry, Writing

Dancer

By Scott Bailey © 2018

The ballet dancer
Perfecting her heart with grace
Hiding her sore heart

Image from Pixabay

In response to my daily prompt Physical

#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

Posted in Creative Writing, Poetry, Writing

The Planets

By Scott Bailey © 2013

The scarlet of fire
from a barrel
of a gun.
The scarlet of heat
from the blast
of a bomb.
The scarlet of rockets
arcing through
the air.
The scarlet of eyes
shot through
with fear.
The scarlet of fields
and memories of those
buried there.
The scarlet of blood
spilt without care
on brow and cheek.
This scarlet deep
so precious and deep
is of Mars.

The green of the forest
where animals play
without bounds.
The green of summer
and nature bursting
to be alive.
The green of shoots
born by birds
in clear skies.
The green of reeds
by river banks where
we sleep and dream.
The green of the sea
surrounding with safety
our precious land.
The green of fields
where people walk together
hand in hand.
This green so verdant
so desired and calm
is of Venus.

The silver of stars
darting here and there
with lightening speed.
The silver of water
tumbling in the sun
from land to land.
The silver of salt
crusted on the sails
bringing people close.
The silver of an aeroplane
shining in the air
letters written there.
The silver from the earth
delicately stretched and turned
wires spreading far.
The silver of a firework
broadcasting sparks of joy
to gathered friends.
This silver bright
wondrous and bright
is of Mercury.

The orange of sunrise
mighty and full of heart
bringing praise in singing.
The orange of a marigold
around which children dance
and parents’ hearts​ leap.
The orange of a drink
splashed down laughing throats
a thirst to quench.
The orange of a car
painted by a child
all wobbly and bright.
The orange of a paper
wrapped around a gift
unexpected surprise.
The orange of a mandarin
hanging in the tinsel
succulent and ripe.
This orange happy
bright and full of joy
is of Jupiter.

The yellow of an eye
weary, deep and wise,
heavy with rheum.
The yellow of a page
of a leather-bound book
heavy ancient tome.
The yellow of a contract
signed in years gone by
fulfilled with honour.
The yellow of a poster
faded in the sun
promises long forgotten.
The yellow of a leaf
discarded by the road
crumpled and dry.
The yellow of grass
scorched in the summer sun
toughened by the trial.
This yellow old
filled with wisdom and pain
is of Saturn.

The purple of a cloak
whose owner dazzles all
leaving them perplexed.
The purple of a cloth
on a table still
with artefacts old.
The purple of a box
with secrets held inside
only he may know.
The purple of a book
engraved with secret signs
full of ancient rites.
The purple of a smoke
that grants your heart’s desires
with forbidden fires.
The purple of time
between day and night
where fairies play.
This purple, magical
drenched with ancient lore
is of Uranus.

The blue of an evening sky
and strange signs in the air
for those who look.
The blue of pools
deep unchartered waters
with creatures strange.
The blue of visions
and misty wandering ghosts
speaking from the grave.
The blue of eyes
that hypnotise and gaze
into pasts unveiled.
The blue of lights
shining in the north
reflected in the ice.
The blue of sparks
floating in the air
in the woods.
this blue so mystical
beautifully unexplained
is of Neptune.

Image from Pixabay

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

Posted in Creative Writing, Fiction, Short Stories, Thirteen Tales, Writing

Fear

We have a love/hate relationship with it.

We do not want to be afraid. We want safety and comfort.

Or do we?

Underneath, secretly we crave it. The thrill of fear, the arousal of danger.

So turn off the lights. Open the pages and delve in.

Find the thrill in the words.

Thirteen Tales of Ghosts

 

Posted in Scotts Daily Prompt

Scotts Daily Prompt Dividend

These Daily Prompts are my attempt to fill the hole left by the now retired Daily Post.

To see them all click here.

I will not be able to review them or comment on them but feel free to join in and use them as an inspiration for your own work. They have been randomly generated by this site so there is a chance they have already been used by the Daily Post.

Want to join in. Publish a new post on your blog interpreting the theme. Create a pingback to this page. These pingbacks have to be approved manually so they may not appear immediately. Then come back, browse the other pingbacks, leave some likes comments and network!

Today’s prompt is:

Dividend

Image from Pixabay