Free Verse, Poetry by Sarah

Stars in the Sand

That’s right
I’m the sidekick
Riding the tailcoats
Of those braver than I

Too shy
Too scared
To bare my teeth
And so I smile

Push me around?
You can for a while
I promise, I won’t mind
Instead I smile

My knuckles are white
I grit my teeth
Composure like armour
“Yes,” I smile

My soul awakens
She tries to get out
Shh. No one cares
I falter…

Gently I push
Gently I prod
The cocoon opens wide
And I fly right out

I am bioluminescent
I’m ready.
Projecting my stars in the sand
For all to see

By Sarah ©2021

Photo by Kevin Wolf on Unsplash

Carrot Ranch, August 19: Flash Fiction Challenge, and also, Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Take Weaver -19/8

Free Verse, Poetry by Sarah

Dream a Little Dream

There’s a cacophony in my head.
And it won’t go away.
I’ve tried sleeping pills
But there’s no guarantee.

I drop some helium
To cull the birds
Coz the tweets are endless
A faithless dirge

And so I’m held
Too painfully aware.
Is it possible to hope?
Do I dare to care?

This fustian pair
Between my ears
See that decisions are made
for me in arrears

Wishes are portable
This I do know
Thoughts are transferable
Wherever I go.

So while there is still
a slit; a gleam
I have to believe I can
Dream a little dream

By Sarah ©2021

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Tale Weaver – 12.8.21 and Wordle #253; as well as, Carrot Ranch, August 12: Flash Fiction Challenge

Other, Poetry by Sarah

Doorway

I dream of escape
Escape from in here
Here is my nightmare
Nightmare and fear

Spiralling down
Down to the black
Black prefers dark
Dark doesn’t talk back

It’s been a long time
Time has stood still
Still in my mind
Mind been through hell

But now dawn is rising
Rising to light
Light from a doorway
Doorway in sight

I cross the threshold
threshold anew
anew expectations
Expectations of you

Please hold my hand
hand trembling, I go
Go through the opening
Opening so slow

Guide me with love
Love me carefully
Carefully we’ll weave
Weave a journey

By Sarah ©2021

Photo by Filip Kominik via Unsplash

Carrot Ranch, August 5: Flash Fiction

Stories by Sarah

Meltdown

It’s all a blur – once the meltdown begins. That familiar sinking feeling, consumes me again.

My face blanches as I realise what I’ve done. It’s too late now though. It’s happened.
“What were you thinking?” my beleaguered mind screams.
“That’s the problem… she wasn’t,” replies my subconscious, smirking, “Always the way, once she gets a few drinks in her.”

My head spins as I scrabble to assemble jigsaw pieces of the previous night.
But it’s no use.
There’s nothing there.
Time hosts invisible memories.

Sick to my stomach, all I can do now is ask, “Who else knows?


By Sarah ©2021

52337A90-D29E-41D5-911C-25F359F3F9BAPhoto by Nsey Benajah on Unsplash

Carrot Ranch, July 15: Flash Fiction

Stories by Sarah

Unicorn Serial in Three Acts (99 words each part)

Act I

She had known this was inevitable. Lying down, she submitted to her fate, took a deep breath, and swallowed hard. Fearfully closing her eyes, she waited. It wasn’t long before the torture began. The unicorn was really going to punish her. First of all, it flicked at her skin with its coarse tail. Contemptuously, teasing her. Circling her. Feigning as though to charge, but merely brushing past. She winced with each whip of the tail, sharp as razor blades, indeed drawing small droplets of blood with each stroke. It finally stopped, but she knew it was far from over.

Act II

She braced herself for more. Without warning, roughshod hooves began to stomp over her. The delicate skin of her back soon became pressed with their crescent moon shape. Tender and sore, she was continually trampled. Taking deep shuddering breaths, she tried not to scream although tears had begun trickling down her cheeks long ago. She swiped at them viciously, loathe for anyone to see her submit to the pain. Four muscled legs danced over her. The flank of the beast was shiny with sweat and clearly defined veins popped from within. Its body was a strong and magnificent construction.

Act III

I’ve never see a unicorn in the flesh before, she thought deliriously. The pain had now reached blinding heights. Sharp, searing agony consumed her being. When at last, she thought she could bear it no more, she heard (or imagined) a voice say, “I’m nearly done”. With that, the unicorn’s ivory horn speared her. She gasped as she came face to to face with the mythical animal. A bright light came into focus. “Am I dead?” she asked. The tattooist rolled his eyes at the melodramatic customer in front of him. It’s always the ones who want bloody unicorns! he thought.

Stories by Sarah

Light of Ages

Our small crew of lighthouse keepers, landed in the spring, on the station off the coast of Isle Royale. We stayed for the entirety of the shipping season; due to leave in the fall. But the remoteness and inaccessibility of the light, made provisioning risky; burdensome for those ashore. In the end, we got down to a single can of tomatoes.

You find out man’s true nature under such conditions. One has to survive, and there are ways to dispose of the bodies, out here on the rock.

A light for the ages, brought out darkness in our souls.

By Sarah ©2020

Image credit: Copper Country Historical Images
Stories by Sarah

Folded

It’d been a long day.

Kihei, Maui had deceptively more on offer than I’d thought. I sat my weary self down, noting the lazy colonnades made by benches and umbrellas. Even they had had it – pulled in and folded down for the evening.

I sat swirling my cocktail, hoping it would ease my aching muscles. The sun dipped below the tree line, drawing long shadows on the ground and I’m almost tempted to ask a passing cyclist if I can hitch a ride. The thought of walking up the hill, is overwhelming.

So I ordered another drink instead…

By Sarah ©2019

Carrot Ranch, Flash Fiction: January 17

In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that includes colonnades. It can be natural, architectural, or a metaphor. Take a stroll and go where the prompt leads.

Stories by Sarah

The One That Got Away

I was looking forward to the fishing trip. I always loved the thrill of the catch… well, most of the time. Sometimes I came away hungry! Arriving at my favourite spot, I saw a couple of men were already there.

Ah, some healthy competiton, I thought. I set myself up and waited. A few fish were congregating, but were disappointingly undersized. They wouldn’t sate my appetite!

Suddenly, I spied a good-sized, juicy-looking trout. I swooped in; snapped up the wriggling fish in my beak, and flew away.

“Hey Bob! That bird just stole your fish!” a man onshore yelled.

By Sarah ©2018

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Image credit Pixabay

Prompt: Carrot Ranch, Flash Fiction – April 26, 2018. Task: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a fish tale. It can be about fishing from any angle, about those who fish, or what might be caught. Go where the prompt leads.

Stories by Sarah

Time To Let Go

Author’s note: Written for my beautiful nanna, Edie, who finally let go last night. May you Rest In Peace with Bill.

“Take this balloon,” Nanna began. “Its life begins much like ours. All shrivelled, until it’s filled with air and starts to grow.”

Bringing it to her lips, it slowly inflated. “Sometimes, we push too far and…”

“BANG!” I interrupted.

“Exactly,” she smiled. “Sometimes, we tie a knot, when there’s still room to grow.”

She made a pinching motion with her fingers. “But sometimes, we can hold it just right. Get a balance between the two.”

“And then what?” I asked.

She laughed, “It’s time to let go!”

Together, we watched the balloon empty and fizzle, before coming to rest.

By Sarah ©2018

Prompt: Carrot Ranch, Flash Fiction Challenge – March 8, 2018. Task: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that features a balloon. It can be a party balloon or a hot air balloon. How does it add to your story? Go where the prompt leads.

Stories by Sarah

On Ice

She awoke with a start, drawing a sharp breath and blinking her eyes. Retinas searched for light; searched for form, in the darkness.

Where am I? she thought, confused. How did I get here?

A sense of panic welled within her. Trying to sit up, the panic deepened when she couldn’t move her arms or legs, or anything neck down.

Racking her brain, she checked her last memory. At the club. Drinking. Then black…‘til now. Twisting her head, she felt flat, slimy, coldness beneath her cheek. The door opened, and she realised with horror, she was on ice…

By Sarah ©2018

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Image credit Tiger Ice Co

Prompt: Carrot Ranch, Flash Fiction Challenge – February 15, 2018. Task: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story on ice. It can be an event on ice, a game on ice or a drink on ice. Go where the prompt leads you.