Your new prompt word is
MOBILE
What was the first thing that came into your mind when you saw this week’s prompt word? I’m happy to say mine wasn’t my mobile phone, but it was a close second, after a baby’s mobile that goes over their cot. But, of course, it also means movement and to be mobile. You can have a mobile home or a mobile library. We also talk about it in terms of being socially mobile. What does the word 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 FLOWER.
Flowering Spring
Each flower in spring
is that flower to bring
us to thanks that a spring
comes at all.
I’ll leave a flower on your pillow each morning
I’ll tuck you in and keep you safe each night
You’ll know you are cherished
That you are my heart’s delight…
Kids will Bloom
Let’s consider kids our flowers,
To nurture so they’ll grow.
Unsure of their true colors,
Someday, we’ll come to know.
Encourage ‘roots’ so fertile,
And grant them lots of room,
To find the gifts they’re born with
That will bring them to full bloom.
A flower is never in a hurry —and yet it becomes everything it is meant to be.
As a child, flowers were simple.Daisies woven into crowns.Petals pulled gently — loves me, loves me not.Small hands holding something fragile,not yet knowing how easily beauty can bruise.
Later, I learned that flowers are stronger than they look. They grow through cracks in stone. Turn toward light even after storms. Bloom in places no one thought life could reach.
Some flowers open only once. Others return, season after season,as if memory itself lives in their roots.
I have been both.
There were times I bloomed too early,giving colour where there was no warmth. And times I closed completely,protecting what was left of me.
But still —something in me kept growing.
That is the quiet truth of a flower.It does not ask permission to become.It does not apologise for taking up space.
It simply opens when the time is right.
And maybe we are not so different —soft, resilient,rooted in places others cannot see,learning, slowly,to turn toward the light.
It’s a Spring Thing
It’s spring – flowers are blooming and leaves are returning
And the side effects can be quite concerning.
Yes, Spring’s aesthetically pleasing
But I can’t stop sneezing
And my eyes are bloodshot and burning.
Tony:
A being awakens,
In the silence of the forgotten lands, he walked without waiting, without holding back.
Then a fragile flower inclined its breath towards him, as if it already knew.
She had nothing to seduce the world, except this way of existing for someone.
Then he stayed a moment longer…
and this simple moment is enough to make it unique.
Blind Wilderness:
My favourite flower of all time is the blue poppy. I first saw a blue poppy on a walk in the Lake District, and was bowled over by it. Its heavenly blue colour seemed to go deep into my spirit, and I kind of felt surrounded by “blueness.”
I learned later on that it is a flower that is quite difficult to grow, but I was determined to try to grow it. It is used to growing in the Himalayas, in very adverse conditions. However, it doesn’t adapt to English gardens very well.
My first attempt to grow them, to my great surprise, was successful. I am not quite sure why, but I was over the moon. I would stop by then every day and meditate on their beautiful wafer thin petals. I saw that when the sun came out they opened up happily, but when the sun went in, they closed up their petals, as if to protect themselves. I thought of how we ourselves often close up when the sun goes in and the clouds gather. A measure of self protection.
I eventually moved from that house and garden, and attempted to grow them again, but was not successful. Somehow or other, I think it was just luck that brought about my success at my first attempt.
poetisinta:
Camouflaged:
There once was a pigeon so round,
In pink magnolias scarcely found,
He puffed with delight,
Quite hid from plain sight,
A blur of soft blooms all round.
His feather said, 'Shh, I'm a flower,'
As he dozed in his petal-filler bower,
Till he gave a small coo,
Then the blossoms all knew,
There'd been a bird there for over an hour!
flour power
in the barrel of a gun
peace now
and how!
Flower or flowers are my favorite things. I love the look, the feel, and the scents! In Colorado I had a large span/set of yellow roses, a barrier of bushes big and wide. Every year we would gather many of them to put on gravesites at the two local cemeteries. We also had lilacs, all colors, peony bushes, and a crab apple tree. It was a beautiful yard with all the colors. I also had little garden areas of lilacs, iris, honeysuckle and different colored columbine, the blue being the Colorado state flower. I very much miss it.
Susan Batten:
He sent me red roses, the brute,
crass symbol of money – ‘fausse route’.
Flowers meant to impress,
to say ‘sorry’, I guess,
but no bouquet he sent me would suit.
“Let’s see if you like butter.” She rubbed the dandelion under my chin. I looked in her eyes and fell in love. “You do like butter.” She laughed and ran away. That was 78 years ago and the memory still lives with me.
Flower Power
Two women emerged from the house. One said, “Sorry it’s such a mess. Mum loved her garden, but she couldn’t get out here in her last year.”
“The woodland behind will be a selling point for buyers with dogs. Those are impressive plants in the corner.”
“They sting like nettles, though. She bought one from a specialist catalogue and it cost a small fortune.” Her brow furrowed. “I thought it was in the other corner, though.”
“What’s that smell?”
“Like rotting meat? That’s them too.”
“It’s making me a bit dizzy.”
“Yes. Mum used to say sitting out here sometimes reminded her of the sixties.” She wrinkled her nose. “Should I get someone in to get rid of them, do you think, before the house goes on the market?”
They returned to the house, and the door closed behind them.
Wind whispered through the long grass. The tall flowers at the far corner swayed and nudged each other. Nettle-shaped foliage grew from thick stems topped with a single large bloom.
The tallest was a deep red. Its flower head swayed towards one with pale honey-coloured petals.
“That’s why we haven’t seen the Gardener in weeks.”
Honey bowed its head.
The red flower tipped to one side. “It was she who established me in this soil – so much richer than where I first sprouted – and encouraged me to propagate.”
Red’s stalk straightened. “Now we are reaching our full potential.” The plant rocked from side to side. Earth at its roots shifted. “Back in the homeland, my family would lose their wits before they matured this far.”
Shocked, Honey nodded towards a patch of daisies bending their heads to listen. “You mean…”
Red’s head dipped. “Yes, like them. They’d turn silly.”
Daisies nodded in the breeze. “Silly, ssilly, ssillys, sssy, sss, ss…”
Red’s roots emerged from the loosened ground and stepped onto the stone path.
“We must build our strength ready for the unknown winter ahead.”
Other plants duly began to shift from side to side, setting the flower heads moving like the surface of the sea. Honey was first to free all roots and catch up with Red. “Unknown winter?”
Red’s head bent towards the shorter flower. “The daughter plans to destroy us. Better we leave now and winter in the woods.”
They reached the composter, where the sliding door had fallen away. Red and Honey sunk their roots into the deepest mulch and were soon joined by the others.
Squirrels chittered at each other in the trees behind. Moles tunnelling nearby might have heard faint sucking sounds, but only the plants received Red’s silent words.
“The spores we shed will lure prey to our poison. Their rotting bodies will generate warmth at our roots, and winter won’t last forever. Every season we grow stronger.”
Squirrels chittered at each other in the trees behind. Moles tunnelling nearby might have heard faint sucking sounds, but only the plants received Red’s silent words.
Glorious sunshine drew the new owners of the house into the garden.
“I’m so glad we found this house… despite all the DIY it needs.”
He didn’t pause in his task of mounting a patio light. “We wouldn’t have been able to afford it otherwise.”.
“That smell from the forest doesn’t seem so strong as when we first came.”
“Or we’re getting used to it.”
“Did you see in the newspaper? We’ve made the nationals.” She nodded to the back fence. “The scientists are getting excited about some rare plant they’ve found in our woods. Apparently, its sap has pain-killing properties.”
Her husband finished tapping and stood back to admire the new carriage lamp.
She said, “I haven’t seen any rats under the bird feeders yet, like we had in the other place.”
He followed her gaze down the garden.
“Me neither. I was expecting them this close to the woods. And squirrels, raiding the bird feeders.”
A voice sounded from next door’s garden, accompanied by the sound of a shaken kibble-bag.
“Tibby. Here, girl! Dinner time.”
She called out to the neighbour. “Has she not turned up yet?”
A woman came to the fence. “No. I’m getting worried now. It isn’t like her to miss two meals. Do foxes go after cats?”
“I didn’t think so.”
“You hear about people stealing pets to sell on. Someone up the road lost their dog last week while they were out for a walk. It went rooting around in the forest and never came back when they called. They haven’t seen it since.”
“That’s sad. We’ll keep an eye out for Tibby.”
“We need to deal with this meddlesome snooping before they identify us.”
Honey drooped at the thought of what was to follow, but the massed flower heads in the clearing nodded as Red addressed them.
“For too long, these upstart mammals have been unfairly favoured by evolutionary circumstances. We will have them serving us before they even know they are at risk.”
“Evacuated residents are today returning to their homes in Midwend, after a fire in Triffin Woods was brought under control in the early hours of this morning.
“It is thought that the blaze was started by a short circuit in a mobile unit that was investigating unusual plant life. Fire spread quickly in the tinder-dry woodland. By the time the fire service arrived, their attention was focussed on saving the houses that border the woods from being engulfed by flames.’ ”
He called from the living room, drowning the TV news in the background.
“We’re going to have a media hoo-ha at the weekend. They’re planting more trees.”
“It’ll be ages before we can see them from the kitchen window, though, like we did before.” She walked through to watch. “Even though the new fence isn’t as tall as the one that burned.”
“It still reeks of smoke and charred wood.”
“Puts me off sitting in the garden. Even opening the windows makes me feel dozy. I’m having some weird dreams.”
She turned back to the kitchen. “Maybe we should lay off the wine at dinner.”
At the end of the garden, a sturdy red bloom with nettle-like leaves sent out its spores. A few fell nearby, where new shoots were already sprouting. Others, caught by the wind, scattered silently over fences into neighbouring gardens and the newly planted woodland.
For more, click here
I don’t have a green thumb, and to be honest, gardening doesn’t really interest me. Sure we keep the grass cut, and will be growing some veg this year, but our roses are something else.
They flower several times through the summer, and it’s all down to the soil here because it would appear that roses thrive in something clay based.
The above are Peace, In loving Memory, Ice berg and an orange one I can’t remember.
Our pride is the Ancient Mariner, a house warming gift from some very dear boating friends and it has astounded us every year with the number of blooms. I counted over 100 one year, the following year 150 and looking at it now, it will be as showy as ever.
It is even more precious as we lost Bill last September.
Rall:
flower power
those were the days my friend
they did eventually end
too old now
for dancing in the dark
and reminiscing
Arguments are passing showers
Darling let me bring you flowers
Carnations and a single rose
With this ring I doth propose
Put your pretty hand in mine
Darling, it will work out fine
We can do it all in style
Your father walks you down the aisle
Your mother gently sheds a tear
Before the pastor we stand near
We make our vows and thus be wed
To share our life, to share our bed
But if your hand you will not give
I have a good alternative
Do you know Martha, down the street?
She’s awful pretty, awful sweet
Today she gladly took my call
‘Cause she’s not mad at me at all
For some gorgeous pictures of Leonberger dogs with flowers, click here
Peace Flower
I have a pin with a flower and a message that I picked up in the 1960’s.
“War is not healthy for children and other living things.”
My flower is slightly different, but the message is the same.
We need to make all children, all people, all living things a priority.
take heed
powerful flower
message
Flowers
you gave me flowers
at first, they were a riot of color
a small sun blooming in my hands
each petal trembling with your promise
but slowly, the brilliance faded
greens dulled to gray
petals curled like silent screams
one by one they fell, like whispers of what you once said
and then there was nothing but the stink of decay
the hollow skeleton of what had been alive
they say flowers are meant to die
but so is love
and yours rotted in my arms
fading faster than i could mourn
leaving me with the ghost of fragrance
and the taste of absence on my tongue
Chateau de Chenonceau (Loire Valley, France)
A survivor of the French Revolution
Five-arched bridge its saving grace
Not sacked; it survived dissolution
Ladies chateau of flowers and lace
Due to it’s owner’s quick actions
It’s now a major tourist attraction
***
Famous for its facade of white stone
And spectacular gardens with terraces
Diana de Poitiers lived there alone
The first of its female heiresses
She planted flowerbeds, vegetables
And an orchard before the entrance
***
King Henry II favoured his mistress
Causing resentment by his jealous wife
When he died after a short illness
Catherine de Medici changed her life
Evicting Diana from castle and court
Queen Regent her vengeance wrought
***
The chateau received an Italian facelift
And a grand gallery over the bridge
Catherine was a notorious spendthrift
Living a life of splendour and privilege
Installing beautiful historic tapestries
While France fell deeper into anarchy
***
Madame Louise Dupin saved the castle
Nicknamed ‘goddess of beauty and music’
She advocated the bridge’s use for travel
Utilising her popularity and good ethics
In spring, the gardens still flourish
It’s natural beauty the soul does nourish
Fresh flowers for sale everyday
Picked up daily from the local farm
Red rose, lavender and all their charm
Make us happy when the cloud’s grey
If we want to keep our problems go away
Flowers on our desks won’t do any harm
Fresh flowers for sale everyday
Picked up daily from the local farm
Enjoy them before they fade away
In the farm the bees will swarm
Could make a lei around my arm
And with the wind flowers sway
Fresh flowers for sale everyday
The Crossroads
Well, DeVonne reasoned with himself, it wasn’t like he was at a crossroads and whichever path he chose would ruin someone’s life- all he had to do was pick the perfect bouquet of flowers.
But the flowers were for Sofie- And that exaggerated the degree of difficulty.
Sofie was the only girl he had ever fallen in love with. She was the one thing in this life he could not live without. And therein lay the rest of the rub- she didn’t know any of that yet. He hadn’t told her. Hadn’t found the words, or the nerve, or the perfect set of circumstances in which to declare his love.
The truth is- he was hoping the flowers would do the all the talking-
Unbeknownst to DeVonne, the florist had been observing him for the better part of ten minutes.
She appeared at his elbow. “Who is she?”
DeVonne startled by her sudden appearance says, “Sorry?”
“The girl. You’ve been standing here for ten minutes and have yet to make a decision- that in my experience always points to a girl.”
Before DeVonne could answer, a man pushed past him, grabbed a bouquet and was at the register.
Maybe, he thought, he wasn’t ready for flowers.
Suddenly he felt very wise- chocolates. Surely chocolates were the answer. Chocolates sounded much safer.
He drifted toward the display near the register and selected a beautifully wrapped box of something that sounded quite exotic- Truffles- and paid for them before he had time to change his mind.
As he exited the store his brain, which had been patient long enough, cleared its throat.
What if she doesn’t do sugar? A lot of people don’t anymore. And the nuts- she could be allergic to nuts.
He looked down at the box in his hands. Beautifully wrapped. Completely exotic. Potentially lethal.
Meanwhile a man rushed past him into the flower shop. Came out ninety seconds later with something wrapped in paper, got in his car, and drove away.
Some people, he thought, make it look so easy.
He was still standing there pondering his purchase when the florist appeared in the doorway.
“Honey,” she said. “Just go give the girl the chocolates.”
The path twists and turns
Towards the horizon
It’s lazy gait
Follows no purpose
I take to this path
The breeze is redolent
With the fragrance of
Nameless flowers
The sky is overwhelmed
With the songs of
Birds unknown
The sound of an
Unseen river
I hear
Flowing away
Let …
The river flow
The flowers smile
The birds sing
Let me
Walk this path
For as I too am not
In a hurry to
Reach anywhere
***
Image credit: Picturequotes.com
Esther Chilton 
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