Weekend Writing Prompt #301- When We Soar

Tarzan, I tried and Cas on Pinterest

Treetops together form a canopy.
What a perfectly beautiful place to be.
Oh, views from there, will set you free!

TV’s Tarzan swung on vines in mid-air.
A treetop, monkey business, and daring, affair.
Kids, like me, dreamt of living up there.

Imagination empowers us ready to soar.
Treetops can definitely be reached and MORE!
Next step, “Where no one has gone before”.



E.M.’s Sunday Ramble- 5-1-22

This week’s topic is:

“Random Questions to Trigger Imagination”

Here are the questions:

  1. If people get a purple heart for being wounded in war, what do the other colors of hearts mean? (Make up your own heart meanings and colors.)
  2. If you were given $5 Million to open a small museum, what kind of museum would you create?
  3. if you could build a themed hotel, what would the theme be and what would it look like?
  4. What would the adult version of an ice cream truck sell, look like, and play for its song?
  5. What animal would be the cutest if it was down-sized to the size of a cat?
  1. A yellow heart is given to people who are pure ‘sunshine’.
    A blue heart is given to people who love winter and brighten it with cheerfulness for those who don’t.
    A pink heart is given to people who are especially shy and humble… and oft overlooked. {They’d be mailed to them. 😉 }
    A red heart is for people who opt to adopt adult pets from shelters. (A gold star is added when the pet is a senior.) It takes a special person to do this.
    A green heart is reserved for people who are extra generous with their time and money in the realm of mentoring children.

    2. My museum would be a place for all local children to display their artwork. Children are marvelous natural artists and I’d make sure that they were encouraged and praised for using those gifts.
    [At my day care, we once put on an art show in my front yard. The kids dressed up and parents and grandparents came to appreciate our gallery. We played classical music on a radio to create a professional ambiance. Wine and cheese were served to the adults and each artist had a bio with their photo beside their creations. WHAT FUN WE HAD!]

    3. My themed hotel would be a retreat for people who love to read. I’d offer affordable weekly rates. All the hallways would be lined with books and special titles could be ordered or chosen from an expansive basement library.
    Some of the rooms would be decorated for specific genres. Cubbies with pillows and desks would be in every room. Special cubbies would be available for kids with ceilings of the heavens and walls with holograms of forests and castles. No internet or TV would be available. Headphones and devices for audio books would be everywhere too. Kids would get special attention and have crafting opportunities too. Board games and art supplies would also be available with organized tournaments and instruction if they choose. A separate activity building would hold the busy children’s activities as ‘quiet’ would be highly valued in the main building.

    4. During the hot summer months, a fresh bakery truck would be wonderful. It’s too hot and time consuming to bake in the summer. Freshly baked bread and treats would be so nice!
    Its song would be Sugar, Sugar by the Archies.

    5. Definitely an elephant! They’re such special creatures. How cute they would be!


Wordle 536

room, cloud, any, fist, raven, rock, slide, speak, west, story, blend, circle

See the source image

My story came full circle when I walked into that room.

When I was a kid, I believed animals could talk. I didn’t give it any thought that it may not be true until I lost my innocent intuition as an adult. It seemed I took a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree slide into radical realism.
Then, I became a father.
When my four-year-old son started insisting that birds could speak, I slammed my fist onto my desk, startling both of us. He ran off crying and I rationalized the incident as ‘good for him’ so he would recognize truth from fiction as soon as possible in such an unforgiving world. There was no blend of parental guidance and support for my child’s imagination that day. I was the boss!
He opted out of having me rock him to sleep that night and there was perceivable distance between us that I’d never before felt. A cloud of regret suddenly surrounded me.
My dad had been a Wild West, no nonsense guy, and I recognized immediately from my own past, the betrayal my son was feeling when I hadn’t listened to him.
Now, I walked into his room this morning, hoping desperately to mend our trust, and there on his open windowsill sat a large raven-like black and white bird.
“Daddy! This is my friend.”
I knelt beside my boy and said, “He’s beautiful Billy. Does he talk to you?”
Before Billy could answer, the bird (who turned out to be a pet magpie that was on the loose) said, “What’s up dummy?”.

Yep. I’ll be ‘eating crow’, for not believing in Billy, for years!

Spatial Sequence Synesthesia


Imagine you can step from one day to the next in three-dimensional space. I can.
Not only that, but I have a three-dimensional “map” for everything that has a numerical sequence. They aren’t all the same. I didn’t copy anyone.
Since I was a child, I’d ask people (when the conversations seemed most intimate), “How do you ‘see’ numbers?”. It took me decades of blank stares and vacant expressions to find out I wasn’t crazy… I have a gift.
My mind created my own personal universe of dates and times!
The study of this phenomenon is quite new. Compiling statistics is difficult because, for many who have it, it’s natural. You may have it.
My discovery was made possible by explaining my “sight” to an online poet friend. After all, poets exist in an alternate realm and especially appreciate bizarre viewpoints, right?
So I took a chance.
She said, ” That sounds like a form of synesthesia.”
I’d never heard of synesthesia! Whoa! My search was about to end and validation was about to be mine. Not only did I learn about myself, I found out about dozens of kinds of “synesthetes”. Some are way more unusual than I. Thank goodness, I feel my synesthesia is a gift. Many find their own version a curse.
Please explore this topic. If you have a lot of interaction with children, learn to watch for signs of them pointing to numbers in space, or looking down toward Saturday. You may have the answer that they long to hear.

~Special thanks to Jamie Dedes. Poet extraordinaire!~



Random Word Story #6-A Different Drum

Random words generated at Creative Games.net

My rules:

Keep the words given. (no substitutions)

Create a story in one sitting.


Here’s my story:

Jenna was absolutely sure she would be a famous actress one day. She was the youngest of seven children born to a family of dust mites. They all thought work was the only thing that mattered and she was the only one who knew different.

A number of times, as they toiled in the family garden, she took on a role. This time, while sitting on top of the wheelbarrow, she became Cleopatra being carried along by slaves. She was fanned with huge ostrich feathers as thousands knelt along her path. She imagined her body covered in indigo silk and golden baubles lined her arms to her elbow. Her arms felt heavy as she waved to the applause of her subjects. The pearls of sweat rolling down her cheeks were merely jewels that  dangled from her crown.

“Jenna, get off of there and help your brother.”

How she disliked it when her father’s voice popped the bubble of her illusion. Now, nothing but mud surrounded her. Her emerald embossed slippers were  just rubber boots and her silken gown became a hand-me-down pair of jeans. As she trudged to the tool shed, she found herself  in the jungle. Quicksand grabbed at her as the humidity soaked her to the skin. A shadow over head was a buzzard circling, waiting for death to claim her. She could hear the drum beats. The natives were restless and she needed to cross the river of hippos in order to put them safely behind her!  She dove…her life depended upon it.

“What do you think you’re doing young lady?”

Mom stood above her with her hands on her hips.

Jenna’s face was scraped from forehead to chin. She picked herself up and continued to the shed without saying a word. When she reached it she found that her pants were ripped. There was a huge grass stain on each knee…wait a minute, it was blood! Her leg had been bitten off by a crocodile! As she limped inside the tool shed, she could hear the drum beats getting closer…