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Red flags in your writing

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Superstitious

horseshoes on a wooden beam
Photo by Ayşenur on Pexels.com

Hand on my ear.

My unicorn’s mate?!

Where?

Was it when I dressed?

The only pair,

Of earrings I owned complete…

Does it mean?

Later,

Picking a neck chain;

There went the charms.

Landed on ground:

The bell,

The key…

There were two of them!

Have I missed a chance?

Any opportunity gone?

Dear brain…

Stop.

Objects go.

And,

So what if the letter you sent,

Gets no reply?

You find a new penpal.

Solved now?

What if…

A logic being I can’t be.

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Lectura de lujo

https://www.instagram.com/p/DXRidE3FoPC/?img_index=3&igsh=bWZwdHJzMXVsdmho

Ni idea si es cierto. Pero como idea para un libro… Eso de que hay que pagar para tener tiempo libre suena peor que pagar impuestos.

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Hurry up

close up shot of a tongue of a cat
Photo by Yulia Ilina on Pexels.com

Lick or it becomes,
Something to be washed.
Swallow fast.
Sticky hands.
Need a tissue to relax.

Sugar flavoured,
Pistachio tinctured or chocolate disguised.
Hurry up.
That sun shines.
Arrrrgh.
Got a stain!

close up of ice cream in a cone
Photo by Anna Pyshniuk on Pexels.com
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Easy reading is d()mm hard writing

https://www.linkedin.com/posts/katharine-gordon_writing-is-exactly-like-life-its-a-frickin-activity-7432410893013057536-ijVA?utm_source=social_share_send&utm_medium=android_app&rcm=ACoAAFmYOvgBIryQWsUtFV8WFrlJXfUk0H5y8Gg&utm_campaign=copy_link

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I must die

seagulls flying over beach
Photo by Julia Kuzenkov on Pexels.com
Let me soar,
Let me fly,
Let me touch the sky.

Feathers in disarray,
Breathless as I might.
Sometimes what I can not say:
I’d like to sing.
Wind sprite.

Gush in stream,
Fall as night
And be the only being.
Looking at your eyes.

Fire the sun,
Burnt the Earth!
Ashes to the dark.
Falling-star destroy whatever on your way.

You shall be my knight.
Slay and pierce,
For I must die.
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Por la ventana

brown and black tabby cat on cat cave
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com


Descolmillada mi nena.
Con ronroneo de problemas.
La que pierde al ratón,
Y se asusta de sorpresa.

La que me cuenta el día en puras quejas.
Una tortura de pelos,
Al cepillo con recelo y un concierto de penas.
Pero en mis brazos se sueña.

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Seudónimos

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Grande, demasiado grande

https://www.instagram.com/reel/DLiPY0jMoW9/?igsh=MTdrYTN3N2ZhaGp6ag==
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Canción de amor ratonil