Last Call

Last Call
He promised to call her
at half past ten
If only he had known
She wouldn’t be there then
The traffic was a jam
Roads had not been cleared
He was getting anxious
But the familiar box appeared
He trudged through the snow
Coins in his hand
Anxious to hear her voice
They would talk as planned
His call was answered quickly
but the voice unfamiliar
He couldn’t understand
It was most peculiar
I’m sorry sir, the voice said
There is nothing to discuss
The lady in question 
Is no longer with us
What? he said, not understanding
The voice was forewarning
But she’s expecting my call
Sir, she died this morning
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©

In response to Willow Poetry Photo Prompt - What do you See?

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The sky was dappled 
Like a Monet masterpiece 
The characters in her world
She wished to release
The noises in her head
Just would not cease
She had not been ready
When her world came crashing down
Leaving her hurt and confused
Betrayed by that clown
Stripped of her confidence
Shunned by the town
Wandering to the water’s edge
She found her magical place
On the river bank under the tree
Where she would find grace
Fumbling with her feelings
She practiced her poker face
Her determination her cynosure 
She returned to her home
Rifling through his things
with a fine-tooth comb
she found the evidence
in a cup of Styrofoam
There it was in plain sight
A locket for his lover
Bearing his and her initials
What a thing to discover
Outraged she knew what to do
She would blow his cover
Quickly she packed his bags
dumping them outside
the locksmith came
She felt fortified
He came a-knocking at the door
Not at home, she replied
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©

Word Prompts:





Photo by Tom The Photographer on Unsplash


The simplicity of the day
A walk in the park
Dog by my side
Who cares if she barks
Breathe in the fresh air
take in the sights
flowering bushes
the hazy morning light
Camera in my pocket
Capturing things I now see
Once too busy to notice
Seeing the beauty of a tree
Stimulating visions of nature
With a coterie doing likewise
Exchanging traditional greetings
With new friendships to initialize
Sitting at the gazebo
Spotting some birds
Writing down my findings
Making poetry from my words
Simple activities of daily life
Fulfilling and pleasurable
Enhancing, enriching
Its gift immeasurable
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©

Word Prompts:





Gina's Tuesday Prompt at DVerse Poets - The Magic of Ordinary Thing

Photo by Jose Carlos Cerdeño Martinez on Unsplash

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One Liner Wednesday

Good Morning! It's hump day again and time for Linda G. Hill's
One Liner Wednesday

Linda's reference to her appliance made me smile and reminded me
that no matter how old we get, life can be silly and fun.

I came across this graphic and thought it fits today's challenge.

Have a great day!


As the sky turns
From blue to creamy yellow
When the sun sinks lower
And we begin to feel mellow
Feeling the slight tingle
of freshly sun-kissed skin 
And freckles on a nose
That knows not how to begin
Your sapient thoughts confirm
This is where you need to be
Brush off the cobwebs
In search of liberty
For all the winter clothes
Are but just an armor
That protect us from the cold
And keep us warmer
Connect with your inner self
And follow your dreams
Stay on target
Its easier than it seems
Shed the unnecessary weight
Discard those scratchy threads 
And free yourself 
From winter’s dread
Be venturesome and curious
Stay full of wonder
Spread your wings
Let no one steal your thunder
Fly south young bird
As your parents have sung
Follow the sun and
stay forever young
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©

Word Prompts:





Photo by Heather Shevlin on Unsplash

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Weeping Willow

Weeping Willow
The Weeping Willow’s tears
Poured into the rippling water
Until the swollen river crested
So full with her grief
Swallowing deeply, ingesting her pain
Until she no longer protested
She came often to share her thoughts
This time she brought her anguish
It was as if her heart infested
The Willow absorbed her cries
The deep sobs of the wounded
It was there for whatever she requested
The river flowed over her feet
Washing away her heartache
Encouraging her to stay until she was rested
As the Willow tree and river soothed her
The sun shone its light on her sadness
Until her fresh thoughts were manifested
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©

Word Prompt:


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