Category: Mystery

Escalation

Escalation


The low hum of the air conditioner
was the only sound to be heard
He reclined on the bed, thoughts swirling
but the lines were blurred
 
Life had been full of possibilities
until that fateful night
He had loved her deeply
but she had been full of spite
 
His history needing an overwrite
He had run to clear his head
Events had escalated quickly
He feared he had left her dead
 
Bringing her a gift of flowers
She had thrown them in his face
Accusing him of infidelity
Her words out of place
 
He would never do such a thing
She had been ill advised
She screamed and ranted
And continued to chastise
 
His head exploding
from her volcanic eruption
He had pushed her away
Needing an abruption
 
Awkwardly she fell to the floor
In his fear, he had ran from there
Now In the stillness, a voice on a megaphone
“Come out with your hands in the air”
 
 
 
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©

Word Prompts:

Possibilities

Hum

Megaphone

Overwrite

Photo by Albert Dera on Unsplash

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Head In The Clouds

Head In The Clouds


My wanderlust is responsible
for the souvenirs I collect
From here, there and everywhere
My travels they do reflect
At home in the clouds
where I anchor my balloon
This is where my head resides
closer to the moon
 
Look into my windows 
and see this world of mine
Come fly with me
from the Mississippi to the Rhine
I can take off to distant lands
Lifting me higher and higher 
With no roots in the earth 
I am a constant frequent flyer

 
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©

In response to Hélène Vaillant's "What do you See" Photo Prompt

Word Prompt:

Wanderlust

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Apparition

Apparition

Often, she would come 
to the frozen pond
A place of solace
Finding peace, courtesy of
Nature’s magic wand
 
She occasionally saw the pair
on the ice arm in arm
Sometimes they would dance
Holding each other
Skating with such charm
 
Sitting by the frosted tree
Music filtered through the air
Where could that be coming from?
Looking closer at the couple
She studied them with a stare
 
Their clothes were from
a time in history
The music was a waltz
She had never noticed before
It was now a mystery
 
Who were these people
that appeared from time to time?
Was she the only one
who could see them?
Why were her feelings sublime?
 
Nothing seemed to add up
There was no trace of a car
She called to them
but they did not answer
Maybe she was too far
 
Realizing they were ghosts
as they faded from sight
Her mind  playing tricks again
in the chilled afternoon air
As she stared into the white


Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©

Word Prompts:

Waltzing

Frosted

Pair

Add

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Ascent

Ascent

Staring up to the ceiling
She saw the plaster flaking
The building showing disrepair
Distraction no disguise for her shaking
 
The white marble stark
but soft and warm to the touch
She stumbled at the steps
The flowers in her clutch
 
She saw his feet
as the tears began to flow
Looking up she saw his body
Surrounded by an outer glow
 
The pain resident in her soul
Rapidly disappearing
She climbed the steps
towards him, persevering
 
Her ascent was slow
and somewhat extreme
Taking her hands 
he lifted her from her dream

 
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©

 
Word Prompts:

Dream

Marble

Plaster

Resident

Photo by Orlova Maria on Unsplash

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Spectre

Spectre

She walked in the shadows
Moving up and down 
In, out and through
the throngs of passers by
Wearing her blue gown
 
Searching day after day
for that one
She would know him
When she saw him
This time he would not run
 
Adamant she would find him
Her method was all she knew
Repeat, repeat, all things repeat
This was no chore to her
Even if she had a slanted view
 
Her power was in determination
Finding her slayer was paramount
All she could hope for
was a sighting
For closure this was tantamount
 
To look him in the eye
For his deadly sins, be culpable
That retribution be hers
and he would know
She was indestructible 
 
 
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©

Sue Vincent's Thursday Photo Prompt - Imgination - Write/Photo

Word Prompts:

Power

Chore

Adamant

Method

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The Library

I looked up from the book
and rubbed my eyes
Engrossed in the mystery
it had taken me far away
to a place I could visualize
 
I imagined a world
so different from here
Where pigs could fly
and horses could sing
and humans had no fear
 
The sea was pink
and the sky was green
Trees were upside down
Flowers were all blue
and there was no need to clean
 
People spoke in gobbledygook
and they all had wings
Flying everywhere
and nowhere, playing
instruments with strings
 
A loud noise made me jump
It gave me quite a scare
My book had slipped to the floor
Then I suddenly realized
I had fallen asleep in the chair
 
 
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©

In response to Hélène Vaillant's What Do You See Photo Prompt Jan 8

Word Prompt:

Imagine


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Good Samaritan

Good Samaritan

 
Her footprints left tracks
on the snowy road
The frost clung to the trees
Her gait began to slow
 
The journey was challenging
She hadn’t come very far
Looking behind her
She could see her car
 
Why had she been negligent
Letting it run out of gas
In her haste to get to her destination
She had created this impasse
 
Something up ahead shone bright
But then seemed to disappear
She regarded it as a guiding light
and began to persevere
 
Intrigued by the light
She was drawn to its brightness
Pushing on in the crisp air
A beacon in the whiteness
 
She missed her footing
Falling to the ground
Crying out in pain
No one there to hear the sound
 
She lay in the snow
for what seemed an age
No traffic passed by
Her decision had not been sage
 
Through the falling snow
She saw the light glow brighter
As fatigued as she was
Her heart felt lighter
 
She could not see a face
As the shadow appeared
She sensed a feeling of peace
and was not afeared
 
She looked up and saw
a man with a big white beard
He was wearing a red velvet suit
No, this is too weird
 
I saw you struggle, said he
I brought you what you need
Let’s go and fill up your car
So you can proceed
 
He helped her into the sleigh
and clicked at the reindeer
A feeling of harmony encircled her
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year
 
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing © 


Word Prompts:

Harmony

Frost

Intrigue

Snowy

Photo by Anderson W Rangel on Unsplash
 

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Druid Queen

Druid Queen


She weaved the mistletoe
into her golden hair
Slipping on the long white dress
 
While waiting for the mist
To clear from the morning air
Her finger twisted a loose tress
 
At the circle of stones
The secret order assembled 
Impatient for the sun to break
 
Waiting in the darkness
Her body trembled
and her hands began to shake
 
At dawn’s first light 
The music broke the hush
and they began to dance
 
In and out of the stones
she was feeling the rush
It was as if she were in a trance
 
As the sun rose from the horizon
The maiden’s dance did captivate
Her body moving unfettered
 
The naysayers were denounced
Her image now the Druid queen incarnate
and into another time she entered
 

Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing

Word Prompts:

Secretive

Denounce

Mistletoe

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Deep

Deep


What you see is what you get
The waters are not that deep
They are transparent and calm
And could lull you to sleep
 
What is visible on the surface
Is reflected directly below
Nothing is hidden from view
Nor veiled to deceive or shadow
 
Still waters and calm seas
So you may navigate easily
No blind spots to fool you
Or dangers lurking deceitfully
 
She has charted your course
You may set sail from the docks
Come to me, sings the siren
Guiding you to the rocks
 
 
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©

In response to Sue Vincent's Thursday Photo Prompt - Beneath

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Fantasy

Fantasy


Last night I had a dream
You were lying next to me
In a dark room
Somewhere near the sea
I could hear crickets
In the balmy stillness
Moonbeams streaking
Light through the darkness
 
A sensation of calmness
As I let you stroke my cheek
Your arms went around me
and I began to feel weak
You grasped my hands
pulling them behind me
Expertly binding them
and I pretended to get free
 
Your actions were exciting
Almost kinky in a way
Your body pushing against me
as I submissively lay
I didn’t know who you were
I perhaps did not care
Was this even a dream
Or a fantasy nightmare
 
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©

Word Prompts:

Kinky

Free

Dream

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