Skip to main content

It's Another Rainy Saturday

 Posted for The Sunday Muse #161: Gemini. Come peruse the poetry!



There was a haunted story about a haunted house
We used to tell it quietly when it was dark without.

Hot pepper bushes hatch butterflies
Already flaming on the wing
Catch them in a metal cage--
Careful not to singe.

Church windows birth a pair of girls
named Shadow and Reflection
Careful which you look upon
for that is your direction.

There was a haunted story about a haunted house
I've forgotten every moral, every light I've doused.

***

Can you tell I might be ready to skip the heat of summer (and the potential hurricanes) for Halloween? Anyway. Second shot out of the way!! My shoulder swelled up like a golf ball, partially due to me jumping slightly at the shot (sorry, I'm a huge baby about pointy things) but otherwise not a terrible experience. I was worried about a dog punching me in the shoulder afterward (it only happened once) and I may have caught up on my month's ration of YouTube & sleep but onward and upward, right? Many happy returns to Shay and Carrie who are hosting the Muse this week and I hope you are having a productive and happy week!

-- Chrissa

Comments

  1. I adore everything about this chilling and beautiful poem Chrissa! Haunting and lovely with rhyme that pulls it by the arm right before our eyes! I am glad you have gotten your second shot and that is over for you. I think you are not alone when it comes to little sharp things, shots and all that kind of stuff. I think next week is going to be more sunny. (Added note: as of June we are changing Word Crafters to a Hybrid in person outdoors in social distanced setting with on line as well) I am looking forward to it! :-))

    ReplyDelete
  2. I love "careful what you look upon for that is your direction."

    ReplyDelete
  3. This reminded me of ghost tales of childhood, campfires and scary tales, scaring ourselves silly!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Happy to hear you got your 2 shots Chrissa. Will get my first this Wednesday
    Luv your poem, the destiny caution in verse 2 is charming
    Happy Sunday, thanks for dropping by to read mine

    Much💚love

    ReplyDelete
  5. Poem within a poem .... a wonderful take on the art! Be well, take care of your arm.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Careful which you look upon
    for that is your direction.

    Good close Chrissa. Good to be forewarned in getting the correct direction as the choice begets the outcome.

    Hank

    ReplyDelete
  7. A slightly incantatory poem. Nicely dark.

    ReplyDelete
  8. I'm with you on skipping the noise and heat of summer and going straight to fall. Hooray for shot #2! I was knocked out of commission for a couple days after, then was fine.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Wonderful atmosphere and texture to your poem.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Chrissa, I enjoyed every line. The second one made me leary, ". . . tell it quietly when it was dark without."
    I had not even a sore arm with mine, us old folk get our in January and I'm ready for my third. Even without a shot, I am recouping from a broken big toe and the pulling of seven upper teeth. The opioids got the best of me last week, still tonight. And I used to crave them.
    ..

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Wishing you a speedy recovery! Dental procedures are exhausting all around, at least for me.

      Delete
  11. This is delightful...It reads like a spell. I too wish to skip the hurricane/heat months of summer.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

To Blue Fields Far Below

 Sharing with The Sunday Muse #228 , The Fashionable Twenties.  A sycamore fairy sits crosslegged in the road Dragons swim toward smooth hills above the storms Vines embrace the telephone poles  Someone washed the blue skies and she knows  It's time to dare the salty foam It's time to wade through the eternal fields' folds And gather golden apples for home.  Hoping this finds you with space to daydream and a good book in which to wander. Working on turning last week's prompt into a longer piece, as I found myself intrigued by the idea of tea in the garden as combat. Social situations are not my forte. As it's still Spider September, there will be a chihuahua-sized jumping spider that is none too happy about anything but hunting squirrels (that's for you, Mom).  -- Chrissa

Flagrant

  Sharing with The Sunday Muse #217. Come be part of the conflagration. :)  Oh, they called the mob to celebrate But only the fire heard They called the mass to congregate But only the dry grass bowed A conflagration Called to prayer Hungry for light Hungry for air Oh, they called the mob celebrate Wearing flames in their hair They called the mass to congregate Faceless in the burning air.  Greetings and salutations. I'm not sure what to say--we're not celebrating the 4th this year (not that I'm prepared to cede one holiday to the authoritarian idiots in charge of our state, but our grass is still dry from the heat and we have a dog terrified of fireworks...so we're celebrating by bunkering down and watching Howling 2  at the gleefully deranged suggestion of my sibling) and otherwise I've turned our dead corn plants into the basis for this year's Camp NaNo project...it's turning into a weird year, the kind of year where I'm reading more horror than norma...

Once Upon a Future Past

  Sharing with The Sunday Muse #204 . It's too far in the afternoon, I thought but evening ran behind me dragons, demons, and the sleeping world; afraid to turn, to wake me. Power needs its horror stories, its ghosts. It's too far in the afternoon, I thought but evening followed close; a fantasy of goodness, where the gold is always covering bones. Power needs its fairy tales, its witches. It's too far in the afternoon, I thought but evening treads my hem, like an army from the dragon's teeth and all the lies therein. -- Chrissa