Dying Rose #poetry

dying rose

Their story went something like this:

they were desperately happy

every moment they shared was wrapped in satin ribbons

that they pulled open together

laughter and love was always in full bloom

their arms ached when they were apart

but like any story there was one blight on their happiness

it was a weed that he had nurtured thinking it was a flower

it had been beautiful once

but the thorns bore a poison

the more you were pricked the closer you were to death

the weed held back the poison so that he would die more slowly

it was payment for his kindness

 he watched love get brown edged like a dying rose

she cried out, “help me, remove the weed.

We will both be spared”

In the end, she tearfully whispered, “spare yourself

death has pierced my heart”

his weeping cleared his eyesight

he realized that the weed was ugly and malicious

but it was too late

she had taken the beautiful  life wrapped in ribbons

and so a broken spirit (not the poison)  claimed his life

the weed no longer had anyone to suck life from

 she became one dead stalk of thorns

the sun and the moon sighed as one

“laughter has fled

along with the fragrance of spring”



“P” Poison Has Its Uses #atozchallenge

white bloody rose

I heard a banging on the steel grated door.

“Umm huh. Yeah I’m coming. Hey Peely.”

“Here this is for you.” The errand boy, who we were both so found of, handed me a box.

Inside was a hat I had admired for months, The card underneath in her handwriting.

“Peel, ya know what I hate most about this town?”

“Yeh, Sam, I know. It’s so damned lonely.”

“Tonight a few people are gonna wish they were just lonely. ”

I looked under the envelope flap and saw four names circled in red.

“Hey Peel ya got plans tonight? I need a special delivery…. ”


“Just one sniff of these beautys, that’s all that’s needed, Peel. ”

“I’ll make sure that he takes a big whiff. ”

“You must be subtle. Remember this guy can sniff out trouble like a shark. As he looks at the card, make a comment like:   ‘The more expensive these damn flowers the less they smell. And then: “Oh I’m sorry, sir, did I just say that out loud?”

“If the wife or mistress is around, she may inhale first. ” Peel’s eyes grew big.

“That’s okay it takes several minutes to take effect.”

“What if I demonstrate?”

“Yes, Peel that would work fine except then you would be poisoned. Hmm wait a minute. Can we plug your nose?”

“I have some of those foam ear plugs. ”

“Ok, yeah cram them up your nose right before the delivery. Use a little Vaseline as a seal.”

“This had better work. ”

“Careful this guy suspects his grandmother. PLEASE Don’t go getting yourself dead.”

“I won’t, Sam.”

Lately, People I care about find themselves under headstones…

cemetery rose


Staccato #poetry #devotion #photography

quickly you crack the whip

knocking over what was once precious

valuables turned to dust

your mark permanent

quickly you crack the whip

over me you lord superiority

dealing the final card

I have lost everything

quickly you crack the whip

mutilated beyond recognition

all that’s left is a pool of blood

you were once my friend

In the Bible, James 3 talks about the tongue:

” But no human being can tame the tongue.It is a restless evil full of deadly poison.”

Unbridled, our tongue can be quick to lash out perhaps destroying another with our words. What would the world today be like if everyone used their words to soothe and encourage? It can start with us.

“Love provided me with a tongue and tears”

~ Gibran

Give me love

flowing stream in the desert

words of kindness


Devotion shared with Godinterest

Poisoned by the Damned #flashfiction #darkfiction

  • damnlings

Looking for inspiration for your night of horror? Come by Pen of the Damned and read what we have brewing. Here’s a taste:

  • Open your eyes and see the world for the first time.
  • “Wizard or Warlock, which shall it be?”
  • It was no longer needed
  • I mix well and put it in a flask
  • How much lovelier we would be if we were dead.
  • Pass me the glasses,
  • Drink Deep
  • Here’s to us darling!

And there are prizes but I think you need to climb in a coffin to claim them.

The Collection #flashfiction #shortstory


The curio shelf stirred my imagination.

My fingers turned the tiny pedal of the bicycle.

I was racing down a hill with no brakes.

“Phew” I gingerly placed the miniature velocipede in its cubby.

I pulled the conch to my ear.

Waves crested over my head pulling me to the ocean’s floor.

The shell dripped as I replaced it.

Hand turned brass chess pieces gleamed.

I was in Palermo, a gun in my face.

The dropped pieces rolled away.

An ancient spearhead looked so enticing.

“Nope”, I was not about to grapple with a poison tip and angry tribesmen.

This week Rochelle entices the fictioneers with a prompt with endless possibilities this week.  There is one catch, it has to be written in 100 words. and if you get a chance stop over and wish Rochelle a Happy Birthday!!!

Have a Cup on Me part #1 – 3 #halloween #microfiction #coffee



It was a sunny fall day and a dark vehicle stopped in a sleepy town that was barely on the map. The driver noted the population: 2001.

“Make that a Venti…”

“Here you are,” the attractive barista said pleasantly.

“Hmm maybe I’ll stay awhile,” the traveler pondered.


“Oh pleez,” someone slapped down the newspaper. “The Times received a note made from magazine clippings and now the town is all up in arms? Who’s up for reelection or appointment or…”

“How cliché and zodiac killerish” another reader frowned.

The barista smiled. People didn’t realize how far their voices carried in “her” shop.

“No woman will be safe…” Another patron read.

“Well leave it to the media for taking the Pre-Halloween hype a little too far,” her companion chuckled, “What better way to get people “up” for the holiday than concoct a killer scenario?”

“This is way too sleepy a town to draw any attention for a psycho- killer. That’s why I moved here.” The older woman sighed. “Now the City’s another story.”

“The sidewalks roll up by ten not enough time for a proper killer.” Someone chuckled at the absurdity of the notion.


The barista loved the bustle of the coffee shop and was glad the cool weather was bringing people in. The news didn’t scare her. She smiled and kept serving coffee drinks.

“What a hoax,” she heard from the far end of the shop.

People were tittering like the birds getting ready for winter. But the coffee house always seemed a flutter about something.


The mood was a little more somber the next morning over the traditional latte. “How can this happen? We aren’t even on the grid,” his southern accent came out loud and clear.

“Darling we can’t expect psycho-paths to obey the rules. Now can we?” his silver- bangled, pretty wife simpered over her chai.

“It just doesn’t make sense” a wife said quietly to her husband hoping the children hadn’t seen  or heard the news.

The baristas were busier than usual on this Sunday. Newspapers and coffees were selling like hotcakes. “Murder sure has a bustling effect on business,” the barista thought.


“Damn! The last death we had was when Mrs. Flanergy was run over by the milkman.” The chief was outraged with the news of three deaths the night before.

We have contacted all the female shop owners in town. They are closing down early. All female employees are advised to be off the streets early.”

“Should we do a radio broadcast, sir?”

“Let’s not sound too big an alarm. Not yet.” the chief squirmed,


“Please, go straight home” all the shop owners emphasized to their female employees. The town seemed barren and quiet as the sun receded. It seemed a little too Twilight Zone.

She looked around the dark, misty, parking lot. Her walk home was almost a run. She could almost hear  screams echoing  in the night air. The screams were always followed by death. The coffee barista had no desire to be out late.


The journalists had laughed at the first note

“Death will reign come Halloween Night.”

No one laughed,  when the first reports got phoned in. All seemed to be the same cause, a lethal poison. All the victims were attractive women.

The Times got a new note:

“More Each Day Until Spooks Come Out…”

No one, at the paper, noticed the note was arranged differently. In the first, the letters were ripped out; this one the letters were cut out – neatly.

The paper’s headline read:

“…  a pretty lady with silver bangles was found in her car this morning.”


Life kept buzzing in the coffee shop. The drama never ceased neither did the foreboding in the headlines each morning leading up to Halloween.

“Ten women total and the police have no clues.”

“I feel terrible for the families.” A young woman whispered to her boyfriend.

“Maybe you should go out-of-town for a few days,” he said with loving eyes.

The barista looked over at the two for a moment envying their closeness.

Later that day… a woman was obviously meeting a man for the first time.

The barista winked, “not sure about that one…”

The blonde winked back, “I’ve been on lots of dates. Ya never know…”

“These are scary times, “the barista added.

The blonde smiled, “I’m a big girl.”

A scream was heard in the back of the coffee shop. There was momentary mayhem as some people rushed for an exit while others rushed toward the scream.

“It’s ok folks it was just a mouse” the barista grinned knowing on most days the news of a mouse would empty the coffee shop; today it brought people closer together.


The next morning more deaths were reported. Among the deaths – a blond who thought she could handle life and a young woman whose boyfriend was grieved that she had not listened and gone out-of-town as he asked.


“Sir, some of the victims were strangled and others were poisoned.”

“Guy likes to mix it up, obviously.” the chief scowled.


“I’m not sure if you girls should be working especially since it seems several of the women were customers here the same day they died. Maybe he waits outside for the customers,” the manager’s face whitened. “Then we will be sure not to be customers here,” the barista tried to lighten the mood.

“Ok, but if either of you feel you need to go then you can have the rest of the week off.”


“Nothing ever happens in this sleepy little town,” the police chief pounded his fist on an oak desk. He hated contacting the metro police but needed help in solving this crime asap.

That afternoon a detective went to the coffee shop to talk to several of the staff. “Anything unusual the past few days?” No one could recall.

“Well there was this one weird, middle-aged guy who has met two different women for coffee.” the barista remembered.

“Yeah, he seemed really full of himself, acting like a big shot. He bought his date a Venti. I call that a big spender.”

“Have you ever seen him before?”

“No. Never,” all the baristas agreed.

“Ok give me a description and if you see him again get his name off his credit card and try to delay him.” The detective was writing in his notebook.


A pretty young woman ran in late toward the end of the shift. The guy at the cash register asked ” what is a beautiful lady like you doing out so late?”

“I lost my wallet today and I just got off work at the spa. I hope I left it here.”

“Well pretty lady” he smiled “Let me look in our lock box. Can you describe it?”

“Yes, it’s brown leather with a gold clasp.”

“Looks like you’re in luck” the cashier said valiantly as he handed the wallet to her.

“How ’bout one for the road,” the barista smiled “Coffee’s getting dumped. This one’s on me.”

“I could use something a bit stronger” the woman giggled with a strain in her voice gratefully taking the coffee and leaving a tip.

“Liquor store’s around the corner.”

Neither the barrista nor the gal with the wallet noticed a guy preening himself in a dark Camero.


“We won’t have any women in our town soon” the police chief yelled as he “lost it” the next morning.

“This guy isn’t consistent. He strangles some and poisons others.”

“Maybe we have a tag along murderer.” The homicide detective conjectured.


“Maybe this is two murderers not one.”

“We can’t handle two murderers! This town is too small.”

“Maybe we should evacuate all females from the town.”

The homicide detective thought “these guys are so small town…”


The flirty guy went into the coffee shop and started making time with the barista. “Come out with me tonight baby.”

“Sorry, I don’t think my football player, boyfriend would approve.” The barista smiled coldly.

“Then don’t tell him.”

She turned and walked away without giving him his order, but she did get his name and phoned the police. They were too late but they had a name.

“I’ll take you home tonight, I saw how that creep looked at you today.”

“That’s so sweet of you but…”

“No arguments.”

“Well, ok.” The barista had to admit she liked the attention.


“All the victims reported this morning were strangled,sir.” The detective from metro scratched his head in confusion.


The barista giggled as she looked her co-worker in the eye at work.


It seemed like a seesaw or a competition to the police force. The tally was: ten poisoned and twelve strangled. The next day: fifteen were poisoned fifteen were strangled. The police could never pin anything on the guy who liked to take women out.


“Coffee’s probably the safest thing on Halloween,” the sultry lady said to her date.

“Yeh baby, let’s put something in that coffee.” The barista rolled her eyes as she noticed the guy’s over- powering cologne.

The coffee shop was open late; even with the threat, it seemed people wanted to drink coffee rather than go home.

The barista left before closing; her manager insisted.

She made dinner for herself and her friend.


“The final tally after Halloween is 20 poisoned ladies and 30 strangulations.”

“No women were poisoned on Halloween” the police chief smirked. “Why?”

“Maybe the person was caught, sick, or busy.” the homicide detective  chimed up.


He came in the next morning. Mr I can have any woman I want.

The barista leaned over. “Hey baby, you want a date?”

” Yeh baby, sure any time. ”

“Well I tell ya what lemme make up a special brew for you and we can talk about it hmmm tomorrow.” The barista made a Venti with a little bit of “everything” in it.

Later that afternoon, the police found the man. They knew it was him by positive identification of the vehicle. He was dead. Had he committed suicide? The autopsy report showed the same poison that the women had been killed with.

The barista stopped to say “goodbye” to her manager and her workers. “Yeh I think I’ll feel safer back in the big city.”

“But the papers say they caught the guy.”

“I’d hate to find out that they only caught one of them” the barista said with a wink to no one in particular.

A pretty woman waved to the man painting a new city limits sign. She noted the population: 1951.


Happy Halloween to all of you hopefully you have a safe eve. Remember to have a latte – on me!

Photograph “Coffee’s on me” by L. Moon copyright 10/2012

The Knife’s Revenge #poetry

This is the knife’s echo to – “Deeper than her heart “

It had been a mere scratch on his hand that was made as he took the plunge

“her heart I tell you” he instructed the knife

“all of it”

The knife seemed to have its own will

It spared me

the poison of death

was forged into its steel

why I was spared I can only guess

but one year later

the innocuous cut upon his hand

a mere scratch

laid his body dead

the blade laughed a maniacal laugh

“for the one who took so much life shall be taken”

“be ground to dust empty hearted one”

I got an anonymous note

“we bled him dry. your healing is complete”


If I’m still on the road, don’t blame me it’s the dogs fault…

Vicissitudes of a Life #atozchallenge #dreamer

I had rapid fire thoughts surge through my head.

  • Princesses never have power in fantasy stories; they always look good and have a  “ga ga” prince
  • focus – poison
  • Get Blue!!!
  • Get Blue!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
  • I never dream in colour
  • When I wake up I am going to write a bestseller because this dream is too rich
  • mommy

“Look mama.” I heard that nauseatingly sweet voice of that little girl.

“Don’t you have somewhere to go?” I wanted to say a bit too unkindly for a kid in a dream. “Ok little girl look at what? I’ll play along.”

“Yes dear her lips are a very odd blue colour. I hope that doesn’t mean the end is near.” Why does she sound like Mrs. Cleaver?

“At least the mother is a realist.Wait. It’s my end that she is referring to. Get that Prussian Blue – ASAP!!”

The next moment the princess sat up. I mean I sat up. I don’t have any idea what is happening. (Needless to say I have no idea if these are thoughts or I am speaking.)

“Thank you so for your help little girl.” (did I say that?)

“All I did was to wish you to be well.” The little girl smiled a little too sweetly for my liking.

“Yes you did.” A beautiful smile crested the princess’ face like dawn after a storm. It was radiant and commanding. “I must go back now. There is a war to stop and a Viceroy’s son to marry.”

“Is that all?” I thought sarcastically.

“Goodbye” the little girl said secretly holding a handful of blue.

“Ahh” I sighed “that’s the way I like a dream to end. A little girl with blue pills,  a very assertive princess, and the dreamer discovering that she is mentally unbalanced.”

The next moment I, she was walking through an unusual forest. “Toto we are not in Kansas…”

Shake it off normal person “I have need of you as you have need of me. Your knowledge from the other world will keep me alive. In exchange, I will one day return you to your world…”

“That’s one assertive princess” I sighed.

…much later having come to my senses

“I’m glad daddy taught me how to look out for myself. (you may not know it prin…cessss but my daddy was a Navy Seal he could kick butt).” I thought.

Out loud I said “Lead the way princess – Carpe Diem.”

She chuckled “You do realize this is not a dream sequence!”

“Yes – time to prepare for a wedding” (back atcha princess)

“It is time I take charge of my dream” I thought as my mind and body shifted to high alert. “Afterall there are people out there trying to kill “my” princess.”


When princesses in dreams start talking back to you realize you are in for a big change!!!!


This is the forth of a short story series that I think I will condense, edit then re-post  “Dreamer”Jolted Asleep” and ” The Hidden Element”

The beautiful water color that has been the front piece of my “dream” series was painted by the talented Arna Baartz.

Thank you to the A to Z challenge that has given me the chance to pull out archived work and get some feedback on some of my WIP. All of the moderators deserve a month off to dream of next year’s A to Z!!!!

The Hidden Element #atozchallenge #dreamer #shortstory

Though my hands couldn’t help my mind was in full motion.

“Hmm poisons. If only…”
Then it happened my mind scrolled to a symposium I had sat in with a woman who was an expert on poisons. She had an interesting story really. She was a physician who had done an internship in Mozambique. She had purchased jewelry for friends and family. When one of her friends got deathly ill, she realized it had been the jewelry; a beautiful seed that had a residue of the poison inside the shell. It had gotten into a small cut she had on her neck. Something so beautiful could unknowingly kill. So Doc started doing her research on innocuous things that could be poisonous to her patients.

I started thinking about things I had done, things I had eaten. The strangest thing happened. My mind went into a chamber – beautiful with velvet hangings on stone walls. I looked down at my hands; they were covered with rings. My bejeweled hand and wrist alone was worth millions of  dollars. I heard an odd language; I understood what the servant was saying.

“You must rest princess tomorrow you must meet meet with Viceroy’s son. They say he is very handsome.”

I did NOT want to get married but my country was on the edge of a war.

“Yes you are right. Please bring me something to eat in an hour.”

I woke to food laid out but no Awala. “She must be busy preparing my garments for tomorrow.”

I ate slowly. The food had an odd taste. Must be my imagination.
My mind was trying to configure the taste or smell.
“Olepheride” Where did that name come from? It wasn’t part of our element table. But it was an element in the alternate world. A slow deadly poison with no antidote in “that” world. But apparently an antidote here.

“So how did I get here? I mean how did she get here?”

“Stop getting side-tracked. Focus!!!”

I rummaged through all the antidotes I had heard about in the symposium. I had chosen one for a story ; it sounded romantic – Prussian Blue. It was easy to take and you could take a fairly large amount of it. Blue paint pigments were also derived from it.

“Ha” I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Even if I had a handful of the capsules or paint, there would be no way to injest the stuff. I am afterall a lifeless princess. A kiss will not eradicate this problem.
“No that’s crazy”
“what if???”
“No. Reason think logically.”
“This princess could have powers…”
(I hate it when I start dialoging with myself.)
“…. a princess with powers from another world”
sounds like your average dream sequence
“WHEN _AM __I _GOING _TO _WAKE_ UP???????????”


Please forgive the double book on the letter “P”. Todays 1st post I had auto posted a month ago before I configued this serial short story. In order to give each some room I will post the dreamer story in the late part of Wednesday. Part 1 “Dreamer” and Part 2 “Jolted Asleep” are part of this dream sequence a four part story that may resolve next week with the letter “V”

Happy  A to Z all!!!!!

Many thanks to the very talented artist Arna Baartz for allowing me to use her watercolor as my “Dream girl”