I Blog Poetry and Prose

Saint Patrick's Day

Jamál (Beauty), 16 ‘Alá’ (Loftiness) 175 B.E. - Sunday, March 17, 2019

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30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS  (13+) WDC's Longest Running Blog Competition - Hiatus #1786069 by Fivesixer

PROMPT: March 17th

Happy St. Patty’s Day!!

Today, we’ll do something a little different. In your entry today, choose at least TWO of following prompts and let your creativity glow!

1. Share a story of a time you were especially lucky.
2. Have you ever had a “lucky break”?
3. Include ten green things in your entry (and color them with green font)
4. Finish the sentence: “I am lucky because...”
5. Write your entry inspired by the song “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” by Iz Kamakawiwo'ole.

I am lucky because I am alive!

I suspect this incident cay cover three of the items on the list: 1. Share a story of a time you were especially lucky. 2. Have you ever had a “lucky break”? and 4. Finish the sentence: “I am lucky because...” As the title suggests, I am lucky to be alive. When I was a child, I played a game of "Hide And Seek"  at my cousins farm. There was an old Frigidaire setting on the back porch. I crawled in and let the door shut behind me (if the door were open my cousins could have found me). I went to sleep, and sometime later my Grandpa Frank took me out of the refrigerator. He never old Mom about it; she learned about it several decades latter when I told her about it. I wrote the following poem about this incident a few years ago.

"Hide And Seek" 

"One thousand...
Two thousand...
Three thousand..."
Charlett's voice followed me,
as I crept
up the wooden steps
and slipped
onto the faded gray porch.

Its back against the side of the house,
the white Frigidaire beckoned,
its silver handle reflecting
the light
from a hundred watt bulb.

Opening the Frigidaire,
I crawled in
and let the door close.

Curled u p,
like a child in its mother's womb,
I waited
for Charlett to find me.

Counting
the seconds with each breath I took,
one thousand...
two thousand...
three thousand...
I surrendered
to the scent of sealed metal
and the sound of my own heart.

Light
flooded the darkness
waking me up.

Framed
by the Frigidaire's open mow,
my Grandfather stood
his arms reaching out to me.

Somewhere over the Rainbow

Somewhere over the
a green flies
scattering emerald leprechaun magic
across fields of chartreuse clover and sage.

Somewhere over the
unicorns live
grazing in grass
or sleeping beneath pine and olive trees.

Somewhere over the
my muse wanders
looking for blue-green oceans
of inspiration,
hungry for wild spinach
and pea salad.