Downer Days, Depart

"Death has been swallowed up in victory." (1 Corinthians 15:54b, NIV)

 

Downer Days, Depart

I’m looking forward to a date

Excitement builds. I cannot wait.

Oh, holiday –

Do not delay,

Just drive on, days, at rapid rate.

My misery in waiting grows

In mornings gloomy and morose.

A few days hence,

And joy intense

Will raise me to my tippy-toes.

A lot can change in three short days,

As haunted hole its loss betrays.

The Lord broke death,

Regaining breath.

E’ermore the world resounds in praise.

c2017 by Linda Ann Nickerson

Image:

Adapted by this user from vintage artwork.

This poem was posted in response to these prompts:

April A to Z Blog Challenge

National Poetry Writing Month / NaPoWriMo

ABC Wednesday: “M” is for “misery,” “mornings,” and “morose.”

Meme Express: “just drive”

Three Word Wednesday: “gloomy,” “haunted,” and “intense”

#atozchallenge

#napowrimo

#1linerWeds

#BeWoW

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Jump-start or fall apart

Generally, flattery won’t boost the battery.

Jump-start or fall apart

No pervious or porous shell,

Heeds lucid signal sent to warn.

Coherent cause may sit a spell,

Lest music make its mirth reborn.

If I could live my life again,

Then maybe cellular “Amen”

Could block explicit, tacit fails

And keep four wheels upon the rails.

c2016 by Linda Ann Nickerson

This poem was posted in response to these prompts:
31 Days of Poetry and Writing: “If I had my life to live over again.” (8)

31 Writing Prompts: What happens, if your car dies in the middle of nowhere? (8)

Daily Post: “flattery” (10)

OctPoWriMo: “porous” – with “pervious,” “cellular,” “lucid,” “coherent,” and “explicit” – RISPETTO POEM (8)

Simply Snickers: “maybe,” “mirth,” and “music” (or “muse”)

#OctPoWriMo

Image/s:

Adapted from public domain image –

Antique Car, by GaryRabbit, ABS Free Pic

31 Days logo – created by this user,

including public domain artwork.

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Skipping past loom and doom

Sometimes a weave brings us reprieve.

Skipping past loom and doom

Me melancholy? No, siree.

It’s simply not my cup of tea.

I’m fine, you know.

Or does it show?

Perhaps it’s merely repartee.

 

“Play nice,” they say. I must object.

The rules were wrong, last time I checked.

Just to travail

And bring the mail

May stop the shuttle in effect.

 

From warp to weft, a lot is left,

When weaving through one’s life.

The finest textiles fall to theft,

If subjected to strife.

 

I wanna fly with feathers high,

Escape to heal, re-fortify.

I’m living large

To stop, recharge,

And view a vantage by and by.

 

So labor’s lost at any cost,

As workers may be too far bossed.

Unraveled threads

Bring hotter heads,

Thus, fortune’s fools are double-crossed.

 

From warp to weft, a lot is left,

When weaving through one’s life.

The finest textiles fall to theft,

If subjected to strife.

c2016 by Linda Ann Nickerson

Thanks, Sepia Saturday, for the photo prompt.

This poem was posted in response to these prompts:

Daily Prompts: “recharge”

Five Minute Friday: “heal”

Meme Express: “play nice”

Sepia Saturday: vintage photo

Simply Snickers: “fine,” “fly,” and “feather”

Six Word Saturday: Describe your life in six words. (See subtitle.)

Stream of Consciousness Saturday: “view”

Image/s:

Vintage/public domain image.

Feel free to follow on Google Plus and Twitter. Please visit my Amazon author page as well.