Last Night

I had a dream last night. I was looking in a mirror and the wrinkles under my eyes had increased. When I awoke in the morning and was brushing my teeth, I glanced up and looked at my face. All the wrinkles from my dream were, in actual fact, under my eyes. I laughed and laughed and laughed.

I laughed so hard one of my eyeballs fell out and bounced off the basin and onto the floor. As I reached down to pick it up, my cat scooted from behind and tapped the  eyeball with her paw. It rolled under the bathroom cabinet. Still giggling, I knelt down on the hard tiles to retrieve my eyeball. I picked it up and popped it back into the eye socket. Too casually.  I had placed it in backwards.

What I saw in my mind, through that one eye, frightened the daylights out of me. I jumped. My other eyeball fell out, ricocheted off the wall and landed in the bath. I stopped laughing and shook my head at the absurdity. The cat stood up and looked over the ledge into the bath, then at me.

The cat meowed, as if to say 'Now what?' I started giggling again.

Stooping over, I picked up the eyeball. I turned it's jelly substance this way and that and popped this one back in place, looking out.

Then I woke up......laughing.

I smiled as my head sunk back into the softness of the pillow.

Restricted

We both are restricted.
It’s not by our want.
Afar from each other

We travel, we jaunt.

Once it was rosy,
Time was so free.
The essence of you,
Was the essence of me.

Your breath on my neck,
Breathless to me.
I wanted you dearly;
I could touch you or flee.

We loved with abandon,
Skin naked, smooth, and rough.

The limit was endless,
Though never enough.

Over time I grew weary,
Of all we endured.
You smelled my forgiveness,
As before I adored,

The love and the tenderness.
Now never, no more.

You come back from the shadows,

To claim me at night;

I melt in your arms,

And hold you so tight.

So where are we now?

We are back to the fore.
I love you more dearly,
Than ever before.

Sing Me a Song of a Pirate Named Red

A sailor she is, her name is Red Nelly.

From the wharf at Tortuga as a babe she was saved,

By the Captain alone, high was the tide.

The mother had vanquished, her life one of dread,

As brought by the French to occupy men.

A pirate’s life is the scandal of Red.

A long auburn plait falls down by her head.

It reaches her hip, a trademark well known,

For the red of her hair is the red of her heart.

A cutlass she wields, to bleed men apart.

In trousers untanned, belt, hat and boots.

Red has strength of a dragon to fight and to loot.

The sloop from Bermuda is thought of in awe.

It carries fourteen guns, room for no more.

The English and French are at odds to agree

Taking Sea’s Star would bring treasure and glee.

One dark misty night on the warm Caribbean,

Not a sound could be heard, cards all played out.

Red kept her watch to the ebb and the roll,

Licking her lips, tasting salt of her birth

And wonders when next they will fight for the gold.

A ship full of Spaniards, hidden by dark,

Greed in their minds, cold is their hearts.

A cannon sounds boom, the sailors awake

With rum in their guts and grease on their face,

A shudder from all, knowing this is their fate.

The captain feels grieved, when the ship pulls up close.

The Spanish swing over, knives sticking the chests

Of his crew, a brave lot, they fight back as a force.

Stabbing and cutting, knives holding forth.

The depths of the ocean may be their last port.

A fair buccaneer for whom sailors have toiled,

An old dog is the captain; his time may be near.

He remembers a child, Red laughing and free,

Til her softness was stolen, no more to be seen.

The Spaniard attacks, his eyes wide, no fear.

A figure emerges and lets out a roar.

It is Red and her cutlass with rage in her heart

She slices the throat of the Spaniard with ease.

Blood sprays on her chest, her scourge is unleashed.

One by one she does kill to even the score.

A tale told by few on land and afar.

Outdone by Red Nelly, a shame, an untruth.

A safeguard is Red, for the captain, her pa.

The Beach

This is the result of a 150 word challenge which had to begin with "This is how.....".

This is how I came to swear I would never, ever, go back to that beach! It was late in the day and the summer sun was still giving off heat. I went down to a local beach; one which I didn’t frequent on a regular basis.

I shook out my towel and lay back in the sand, with a cliff looming high at my back.  A sandy lump needed spreading out under my back. Oh bother! I moved my towel to smooth out the sand.  The lump wouldn't go. A piece of seaweed was stuck in the sand. I pulled at the seaweed and jumped, as a small crab scuttled away. Laughing at myself, I pulled at the seaweed again.  My finger touched something slimy. Bloody jellyfish! Maybe I should move to a new spot. When the seaweed gave way, I screamed! A human eye was looking at me. 

The Track

I walk along the twisted track.
The falling leaves touch my face with fingers of coolness.
I whistle a happy song.

I saw an object up ahead.
The brown camera I had left on my bed.
My sister was the only one to see. 

I picked it up; when I looked it was only a picture of me,
As I walked along the twisted track,
The falling leaves touching my face, the slight breeze lifting my hair.

I called her name “Alex?”
Was she here or round the bend?
My sister was doing just as I was.
The falling leaves would touch her face.
With fingers of coolness,
the slight breeze lifting her hair.

I looked left and right to wait her arrival.
I noticed a ribbon on a flowery bush.
On leaning over to pick it up, the ground gave way and I fell.

Down into the mine shaft. The breeze left at the top.
I landed with a heavy heart, to the bottom and heard a cry.
The falling leaves kept falling.
They were landing on my sister as they were landing on me.

She broke my fall as she called my name.
I turned and held her tight.
“Oh sister, oh sister I hurt so much” my special sister cried.
I whistled a song we sang as children. I watched her slowly die.

I walk along the twisted track.
The falling leaves touch my face, with fingers of coolness.
The slight breeze lifts my hair.
I whistle a sad, sad song.

The Three Stooges

The tall one they called Harry.

The old one’s name was Al.

The middle one was Maurie,

You could see they were all pals.

The grey one had a simple mind

That only thought one thing.

Come sit on my knee little girl,

I’ll show you who is king.

Harry was a quiet man

Whose words always rang true.

He had kind and thoughtful eyes

That helped when you felt blue.

Maurie like to play with whips.

He would try to have a crack.

When the girls would turn him down,

He’d go inside his shack.

All in all they were nice men

With tales from far and wide,

But listening to them all night long

nearly made me cry!