Wish and a Prayer

childhood dreams
nonsensical thoughts
heaven bound
mirages
sail on a wish and a prayer
through uncharted hearts

©20222 July Day

shadorma

Written for: Moonwashed Weekly Prompt–Nonsensical–11-29-2022

Image by dawnydawny from Pixabay

Wings

the wings are still there
propped in a dark corner
of a forgotten room
since childhood

shaggy and moth-eaten
dull gray with dust
feathers drooping
beneath Time’s weight

they whisper of a dream
where anything is possible
where I can fly
if only I believe

and possess a child’s courage
to strap on gossamer wings
constructed of innocence and faith
and leap blindly into space

©2018 July Day

free verse



Image by Alan from Pixabay

Boogeyman Dreams

A murder of crows takes flight,
Cawing their insanity into the abyss of the night.
They wake the monster of madness; it rears its bristly head.
“Be not afraid,” gods whisper as you lie in your panicked bed.
“For we are here, we are with you, we are the light.”
Just a child, alone, you tremble in fright,
Too little to ward off things only heard, not seen—
While under your bed, the boogeyman dreams.

©2017, 2022 July Day

Image by Stefan Keller from Pixabay

Mind Moonbeams

Southern night lies hot, humid, still—
silent but for a whippoorwill
that sings from the branch of an oak,
taking me back to my childhood,
growing up surrounded by woods.
Farther afield, I hear a croak;
see mind moonbeams bounce off a stream.
And I dream, oh, I dream…I dream!
Living in memories evoked.

©2022 July Day

Nove Otto

Image by Giovanni from Pixabay

Does She?

Does she ever see me…like I see her?
	a cool splash of creek water
	muggy summer days

Does she ever hear my voice…like I hear hers?
	rain on a tin can
	laughter under quilts

Does she ever think of me…like I think of her?
	high in the treetops
	dusty, dirty feet

Does she ever miss me…like I miss her?
	confidences broken
	more confidences kept

Does she ever remember me…like I remember her?
	blood that binds
	forever friends

Does she ever lie in bed at night,
	thinking of times past?
Does she ever whisper my name,
	and see my young, smiling face?
Does she ever yearn to take my hand
	and return to that kinder, gentler place?

©2022 July Day

free verse

Featured image my own rough pencil sketch

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