Your writing prompt this week is
RESPECT
I was always brought up to respect my elders and to be polite. I’m not sure the same goes for today’s youngsters. Who do you have respect for? And whom don’t you respect? The word is also used to convey a polite, formal greeting, or in reference to a particular feature or detail. What does it mean to you?
Fact or fiction, prose or poetry, I would love to read your thoughts on this week’s prompt, but there’s no obligation to share your writing. Here is the work you shared on the last prompt PROMISE.
Susan Batten:
Gate 13, over there, please.
The gate for broken promises,
yes, there.
Go and explain the way you forgot,
were busy with the kids
or reading messages from strangers
on the posts.
Yes, Gate 13, the big one,
Join the queue that’s snaking out of sight.
down the block and round the corner –
yes, that’s it.
Right.
Down there, mate. 13.
Promise.
Liberty’s Promise
an abundant yield for all
freedom’s promise broken
they hail words once unspoken
cheering as we fall
in the face of shameless cruelty
a promise made each night
not to yield the endless fight
as we march for liberty
Timeless Warranty
To keep the faith (any faith) is a promise
A sacred vow to continue traditions
Though some may cringe at walled institutions
Or lack commitments to congregational fare
As long as one is rooted towards believing in
The balance of lovingkindness verses naught
Then they are to be praised for their pledge
To do right and correct injustices
For are we not all made of the same stardust?
all year round
reach every day
forge love’s path
One Truth, Two Lies
A truth or a lie is never just black or white
A truth or a lie is never just black or white
Ask me no favors, no promises I keep
Ask me no favors, no promises I keep
Never is a black promise or a white favor
Ask me no lie, just for truth, and I keep…
There’s grains of truth in every lie
There’s grains of truth in every lie
I want to go swimming with the fish in the deep
I want to go swimming with the fish in the deep
There’s deep truth in every swimming fish
Go to the grains with the lie of ‘I want in’
A lie is just a hidden truth
A lie is just a hidden truth
I can’t sit still unless I’m falling asleep
I can’t sit still unless I’m falling asleep
Just sit still…a truth is falling asleep
Unless I’m hidden, I can’t lie
Unless I go swimming, I’m never falling asleep
Fish still want to ask me favors, in the deep grains
White lie is never just black/or is in every truth a lie?
There’s just no promises I can’t keep hidden… A truth… I sit with the Truths of a Lie
I believe in the promise of the gospel! That if you confess with your mouth that you believe Jesus died for our sins, you are promised light in the darkness. Promised eternal life!
I promised to serve my country with the oath I took.
Finally, I promised to love and cherish my husband til death do us part, and I’ve kept that promise for 40+ years!
For Carl Edward Reardon III
I’ve been doing things a little
differently these days, Carlos;
a little more carefully; I feel
like I’ve finally earned my solo
and I’m thinking you’ll dig it.
If only you could hear me now.
You’ve been gone a while
and I’m sorry
it took so long.
But it’s a solo and
it ain’t bad, but
I’d rather harmonize
anytime.
Get ready, man;
I’m bringing it with me.
If I promise you my protection think ‘twice’,
You’re not asking me to always be “nice”.
If you’ve no stomach for decisions to ‘fight’,
It may be better to get your heart “right”.
You can’t turn when I make a hard call
If you’re not responsible for anything at all.
The vulnerable oft act rather strange
When “looked after” some would rather complain.
Once you decide I care most about you,
Don’t expect ‘pleasantries’ in all I must do.
Perfectly purposed presumed planned promise – proposal.
(Wedding Vows)
Promises, Promises
If you’ll do it, then do it. OK?
Don’t promise to do it and say,
“Oh, I’ll do it tomorrow
come rain splashing sorrow.”
Just do it and do it today.
The word promise is a commitment, and I use it carefully. I feel there is nothing worse than breaking a promise, especially to a child.
It’s a betrayal and so I never make a promise unless I am certain I can keep it.
Bringing up a family in the ’80s, there were two young boys and later foster children.
There was one promise I made but was never given the opportunity to follow through, and that was to take the boys to the circus if it ever came to town.
I loved the circus as a kid, especially the elephants and trapeze artists, but for some reason the circus was never in our area for me to take them.
I was in the relationship for almost eight years, and not being able to keep my promise is my biggest regret.
We have a circus here every Summer, no animals, but a circus nonetheless and by all accounts it’s a good show, though I have never been.
Santa’s Naughty Helper
‘You’re late again, Jangles,’ Santa growled, adjusting his gloves as the Santa’s sleigh engine began to rev. Jangles the elf scrambled across the icy runway, his boots skidding.
‘Sorry, Santa, the reindeers’ carrots got held up at customs again… promise I won’t be late again.’
Santa checked his watch. ‘Children on the naughty list get coal… So what do I give perpetual tardy elves… eh?’ And with that Santa’s boot swiftly met Jangles’ posterior and he became the first Christmas flying elf!
And guess what children… he was never late again… so be good al you kiddies out there – both young and hold (ho, ho, ho!)
“Do you promise?”
“Yes of course.”
“Say it.”
“Say what?”
“Say you promise.”
“You promise.”
“Very funny.”
“Okay, okay. I promise.”
“Great.”
“Wait a minute.”
“What?’
“You have to promise, too.”
“Yeah, I promise.”
“Promise what?”
“That if you eat your raw oyster, I will eat mine.”
“Okay then let’s begin.”
Promises made to be broken, like flawed
Rules, devised to be ignored;
Or else, why vow we’d be together,
Make promises to love forever.
I believed them. More fool me:
Simple, trusting devotee.
Eternity is brief, it seems:
Short and sweet as passing dreams.
Pop over to The Limerick Guy’s site for a cartoon strip limerick. Click here
The Girl Who Collected Broken Promises in Jars
In the little town of Luminara, where the houses leaned toward the moonlight as if trying to hear its secrets, lived a girl named Meg.
Meg had a talent no one else in town possessed.
She could see promises.
They shimmered in the air like tiny floating fireflies. Some glowed gold, those were kept promises. Some flickered silver, those were promises still waiting. And some… oh, some looked cracked and dim – broken promises.
To everyone else, they were invisible.
But to Meg, they were as real as raindrops.
So, every morning, she walked through Luminara with her satchel of tiny glass jars, each with a little cork on top, and collected the broken ones gently, like picking up fallen petals.
Not because she liked broken things. But because she believed nothing should be left unloved.
One night, the sky over Luminara looked unusual. Clouds swirled like spilled paint, and stars blinked nervously.
Meg felt a tug in her chest.
Something was calling.
She followed the shimmer trails only she could see, winding between sleeping houses, skipping over puddles that reflected entire constellations, to the Whispering Woods.
There, on a lonely stump, lay the largest broken promise she had ever seen.
It was shaped like a cracked little orb, glowing faintly blue, humming like a sad violin.
“Who left you behind?” Meg whispered.
The promise trembled.
So, she picked it up with both hands and placed it into her biggest jar.
As she sealed the cork, the woods sighed with relief.
Carrying the jar, Meg wandered deeper until she reached a place she had never seen, a tall, spiraling tower made entirely of glass – The Tower of Forgotten Wishes.
Inside, floating like dream bubbles, were thousands of promises:
Promises made to friends.
Promises made to pets.
Promises made to planets, even.
A tall man with silver hair greeted her.
His eyes were tired, but kind.
“Welcome, Meg,” he said. “I am the Keeper of Promises.”
Meg’s heart fluttered. “Do you… fix them?”
“I try,” he said. “But some promises crack because people forget. Some break because people fear. And some… because they never knew how important their words were.”
He took Meg’s jar, examining the blue-humming orb inside.
“This one,” he said softly, “is special. It belongs to a child who promised herself she would never stop dreaming, but grew up too fast and left her dreams behind.”
Meg’s eyes widened.
“That’s a big promise to break.”
The Keeper nodded.
“Yes. When a person breaks a promise to themselves, the world loses a little bit of magic.”
Meg felt something warm in her chest, a mix of sadness and courage.
“Can I fix it?” she asked.
The Keeper smiled.
“I believe you can.”
So, Meg opened the jar, and the broken promise floated between her palms, flickering like a scared little bird.
Meg closed her eyes and whispered:
“I promise to believe in dreams, yours and mine.”
Her words wrapped around the broken promise like threads of gold.
Slowly…
softly…
miraculously…
It began to heal.
The blue glow brightened – deep, brave, luminous. And when she released it, it shot into the sky like a tiny comet.
A new star appeared that night. A star born from a mended promise.
By sunrise, the whole tower shimmered with fresh color. Some promises brightened just by being near Meg’s kindness.
The Keeper said gently, “You’ve reminded the world, something important. A broken promise is not the end…it’s an invitation to begin again.”
Meg smiled.
And from that day on, she didn’t just collect broken promises, she helped mend them.
Not with magic spells, or with wizardry. But with something rarer. Care, courage, and the belief that every promise, especially the ones we make to ourselves, deserves another chance.
And so, if you ever feel a promise inside you flicker or fade…look up at the night sky. One of the stars might be shining just for you, a reminder from Meg, that no matter how cracked or forgotten a promise becomes…
You can always choose to mend it.
I promise you that I don’t like the daily prompt today. I don’t understand why it always wants us to brag about ourselves. And since I’m ranting about the daily prompt I might as well tell you I changed it from five to three because I like doing things in three, so there’s one.
If you follow this site at all you will know the answers to the rest of the challenges today. Second, I learned about the app Suno in November from Ange over at Let’s Write. It’s an AI app that writes music. You can use it for free but they retain copywrite so I learned the rules regarding what I could and couldn’t do with it before grabbing the Black Friday deal for a year. This give me commercial rights on everything I use it for.
And can you guess what the third answer is going to be?
Third, I have been listening to my poetry put to music. I became addicted to hearing what my poems sound like to music. When I write the poems I usually have a tune inside my head and the ones on Suno are way better as I can change them up to my liking with the pro tools that come with the subscription.
So there you have it my friends. Three challenges, three answers and three poems put to music for your my our enjoyment. To listen to them, click here
A Promise
for what else is life without you beside me ’til the end of our days?
for what else is love, if not you—the one i’ll hold onto as we age?
for what else is dreaming, if not wishing for you in every future i imagine?
for what else is hope, if it isn’t you whom i adore most?
my love, i promise to be with you until our final breath.
i swear to love you even when you become the most wonderfully annoying human being.
i vow to hold you close to my heart wherever life takes us,
and with every last ounce of strength, i will cherish you still.
for what else is growing old if you are not there beside me?
for what else is the beauty of retirement if we’re not watching sunsets together?
for what else is solitude if it isn’t a quiet world shared with you?
for what else is the joy of becoming grandparents if you’re not a part of it?
my love, i promise to make my life forever yours and to build every dream around us.
i swear to love you more deeply than any metaphor could capture.
i vow to remain the woman you see now—the one reflected in your eyes.
for what else is happiness if our spark ever fades?
for what else is laughter if it isn’t shared between us?
for what else is family if it isn’t a life we create together?
and so, my love—give me your hand, and i will give you forever.
i promise to love you with my whole heart, with a passion beyond words—
one spoken instead in kisses, in glances,
and in all the years of joy and adventure with you by my side.
To My Inner Child
I whisper a promise
soft as morning light—
that I will hold you kindly
through every shadowed night.
I offer you my love,
the kind that does not fade,
a shelter made of tenderness
where every fear is laid.
I place in your small hands
a seed of hope to keep,
to bloom when days feel heavy
and dreams fall into sleep.
And when the world grows loud,
I’ll remind you of your bravery—
how your heart learned to shine
through storms you thought would break you.
Come rest within my arms now;
you’re safe with me, my dear.
I promise you a gentler path—
step forward, without fear.
You Stayed
I wanted “til death do us part” in our vows
afraid you would change your mind
and leave me
the words like a curse in a dark corner
or a challenge, and you loved a challenge
you didn’t leave
I wanted you more than I ever wanted anything
more than anything I will ever want on this earth
Love is a fearful beast –
it can make you beautiful or crazy
If you’re really lucky, a little of both
and then one night, we parted
the unthinkable happened
and thinking ceased
I had to let you go – your body
but never will I let go of your spirit
the echoes of your love
the memories of tenderness
togetherness. your laugh
you stayed as long as you could
at a great cost to you, you fought
you stayed
True Love
True Love is a promise
Not a mere declaration
Not the work of a moment
Or a fleeting sensation
It speaks of forever
Not the blink of an eye
To consistently endeavor
A commitment to try
Love is an action
Not mere emotion
True love takes effort
Trust and devotion
Too often we treat love with casual disdain
Forgetting the impact it has or the pain
That others can feel until we’re the victim
Of others” indifference, then we start to listen
Save yourself suffering, heartache and pain
If you make a promise, true to it remain.
I Promise Not to Post AI Generated Comments
This post is not about Leonbergers but about a phenomenon that seems to be spreading like wildfire in the blogosphere, AI generated comments. If you are a blogger that has been blogging lately, I am sure you have seen them. Well written, seemingly creative, flattering and detailed comments that give the impression that the commentor, who appears to be an extremely articulate writer, has read your post really well and understood it, and has spent a long time perfecting the comment. Unfortunately, he/she didn’t write anything and has probably not even looked at your post. He/she might have, in a very short time, generated hundreds of comments automatically for hundreds of blogs he/she has never looked at and knows nothing about.
When I started getting the AI generated comments I was really flattered at first. Someone really took the time to read my often lengthy and complicated posts and not only understood them well but loved them for all the right reasons. As the Devil in the Devil’s advocate said, “vanity is my favorite sin”. However, I eventually realized that these comments were inauthentic. I still say thank you when I get an elaborate and flattering comment that does not look genuine or seems to be too good to be true. First of all, it is difficult to know for sure whether the comment is AI-generated and secondly, they did make some effort even though it was minimum. I don’t know if that is right or wrong of me.
To generate an AI-comment you can, for example, use a website such as Postiz. You copy and paste the content of a blog post into the edit box “Original Post Content”, then select the tone, for example, “friendly”, and then you press the button. Then copy and paste the comment in the blog.
There are many other tools for generating comments, blog posts, and other content including HyperwriteAI, which also can make the content sound genuine using your writing-persona. It trains the AI to mimic your unique writing style (you provide examples) ensuring the output sounds like you.
For more, click here
Rall:
i promise
that i will love you forever
if you promise to love honour+
and obey me without question
spoil me rotten
bring me fresh orange juice and tea
every morning
allow me to shop till i drop
provide me with a housekeeper and cook
take me on holidays four times a year
destination my choice
wine and dine me four times a week
buy me a house on the beach
with a small yacht
reasonable requests methinks my love
Everything is a promise.
Like a premise, a starting point and a foundation.
A putting forward and an assurance… an undertaking and a venture.
Every step, every thought or idea… every gesture or response, question or answer… spoken or silent, all are projections ahead, more or less anchored in a past deed, a present wish or a future intention.
No promises made to ourselves and to each other, to life and to the skies… means no build up, no outgrowth. No construction.
A promise is a vision.
It is our eyes seeing over todays, into tomorrows. And over tomorrows… into far-flung corners of time, near or further away.
Over days passing by, over nights’ shadows… into distant fields, over mountain peaks, deserts or oceans within, breathing with the seconds’ ripples, the years’ waves… our soul building out of itself… mysteriously mixing life’s ingredients scattered all over the place all the time, clad in beauty and sunlight… and seized in the embrace of our momentary attention or long-lasting care.
A promise is an envisioning.
A miraculous imagining… a seeing, without which reality does not take shape out there, from deep within ourselves. From our heart’s whispers, sighs or cries.
A promise is a picture. Picture this, picture that… so it begins to grow.
To rise.
Layer upon layer… it is born and begins existing as if by magic.
By the very magic confidently sparked in our mind’s eye… and now clearly carving things into material existence.
A promise is always a dream.
A Holy Grail.
And it feels within reach and out of reach at the same time… splendidly scintillating in the split-second shimmer and glimmer of the fabric we call life every minute by minute.
Click by click… and capture by capture.
The Promised Land
Where is that Promise-d Land
Where there is no boundaries
Only bonds of fraternity and compassion
Where is that Promise-d Land
Where there is no starvation
No poverty, no deprivation
Where is that Promise-d Land
Where dreams know no chains
Where blossoming is life’s sole motivation
Where is that Promise-d Land
Where recognition is not based
On accumulation of power and acquisitions
Where is that Promise-d Land
Where the Guru imparts knowledge
For enlightenment and spiritual elevation
Where is that Promise-d Land
Where Mother Earth is preserved
And nurtured with veneration
Where is that Promise-d Land
Where harmony and peaceful coexistence
Are not outcomes of forced compulsion
Where is that Promise-d Land
Where victory is celebrated on
Winning hearts and not for exploitation
Where is that Promise-d Land
Where conflict, conquest and control
Are words obsolete, need no exposition
Where is that Promise-d Land
Where Promises made are cherished
For perpetuity and not constrained by
Connivances and manipulations
Alas! That Promise-d Land seems
Resigned to Utopian grandeur
Reigns only in a hapless poet’s imagination
Tail of a Mermaid
“I’m not just another creep with a video camera.” The modeling agent assured her as he leaned over her lithe, young body costumed in only the glimmering green/blue tail of a mermaid.
He positioned her torso against a marble pillar and adjusted her flowing red hair to barely cover her exposed breasts.
“Now- hold that- and I’ll gallop on over and get you that Macha tea I promised- as soon as I am sure I’ve got my money shot.”
***
Image credit: Pinterest
Esther Chilton 
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