Writer’s Digest Wednesday Poetry Prompt #423: Little (Blank)


Heard of chocolate milk moustaches? Well, this is a goatee.

Little Things (That Make Life Good)

Chocolate milk moustaches & the sound a straw makes when you’ve sucked it good to the last drop

The chocolate nugget at the bottom of a Drumstick sundae cone

Waking up to the aromas of bacon & coffee

Paper newspapers & excursions to the bookstore

The smell of matches after they’ve been struck, birthday candles after they’ve been blown out

The experience of ripping paper off a present rather than pulling it out of a bag

Front doors with glass that let the light in, open windows on a nice day

Non-committal sweaters (i.e. not pullovers) & clothes without zippers

The non-committal semicolon, the amazing em-dash, & the cute little ampersand

Clever epitaphs & witty puns

2 spaces after a period

Cursive writing & typewriter font

Whiteboards for practical use, chalkboards for decorative

Long, luxurious lavender bubble baths

Lady Stetson & Prell

Non-sitting cardio machines

Roller skates you can strap to your existing shoe

Real bicycles that take you places

Mint-green Mini Coopers

TV shows that aren’t set in Chicago, New York, or Los Angeles

Bright lipstick with shiny lip gloss

Clothes that don’t have to be dry-cleaned

No-sew sewing projects

Truffle making

Retro kitchens with modern appliances

Willow Tree nativity scenes & Precious Moments snow globes

The Hallmark Yule log with the dog & cat in front of the fireplace, classic Christmas music playing in the background

I Love Lucy–an allegory of the American Dream

Humor, because life is serious



Writer’s Digest Wednesday Poetry Prompt #422: Harmless


The Weight of Words

If words were harmless,
there would be no speeches,
no debates,
no letters,
no newspapers,
no books,
no poetry,
no music that tells us how to feel.

Though actions speak louder than words,
louder than prayer,
words can explain away
a multitude of actions,
for they often precede action.

Lo, if words were harmless,
then how could the words in the Bible be so powerful
that many have sought to destroy them,
even absent of their original delivery?



Writer’s Digest Wednesday Poetry Prompt #421: Password


It Came Without Ribbons

That gift, which was eternal life,
could not be unwrapped
until she redeemed the redemption code–
stored in the DNA that formed
the strands of His blood.
All she had to do
was answer one question correctly:
Who do you say that I am?


Writer’s Digest Wednesday Poetry Prompt #420: Elevated



For I was sculpted from the dust of the earth,
given form,
by the Living Water,
with the Bread of Life.

My blood can save another person
though it cannot save the world
It has not the magical properties
of the Divine.
It never washes away
that which is scarlet to bleach white,
but rather,
it possesses the power to illuminate
any crime scene.

And yet,
I am elevated by the Divine’s
claim on me—
this Deity who chose me
over His Only Begotten—
the Son who sacrificed Himself
so that I all I had to do was ask Him
to forgive me
for forcing Him to make
an impossible choice.


Writer’s Digest Wednesday Poetry Prompt #419: Made Sense at the Time


Blond Logic:  Kimberlea’s Hopeless Case

It had made sense at the time
to build up her hope chest–
with fuzzy socks &
monogrammed handkerchiefs–
until she realized that by “chest,”
her mother hadn’t meant her bra,
but rather her trousseau.


Writer’s Digest Wednesday Poetry Prompt #418: Thaw


Sidney, Montana, 2002

For though his sins were scarlet,
the white that was the snow
covered them,
preserving them—
that dead body of evidence.
The wife of the man in the snow
thought he’d killed himself,
his children,
abandoned them.
And so it was a silent night,
a lonely night,
the perp freezing in the lake
as the vic thawed in the woods.


Writer’s Digest Wednesday Poetry Prompt #417: Complicit


Family Tie Breaker

They’d each been complicit
in the depression of one man:
one sister,
her lack of understanding,
the other,
her lack of empathy;
an uncle,
a lack of respect,
and three cousins,
who wore grotesque
carnival masks of
the two people
who he hoped were the
best parts of him
having long since

He had a wife who,
because of this,
tried to understand,
and a daughter who was
but not needy.
Her parents accepted him,
her grandmother loved him.
They were his family now.