Can’t Afford My Memories #poetry #photography

I drove by grandma and grandpas place

so many changes  hard to trace

a little girl where flowers bloom

eating ice cream by the light of the moon

music played all the seasons

I loved Rudolph for many reasons

love there didn’t need yeast

family gathered for every feast

today the house I cant afford

 rich with memory’s golden cord


Responding to the prompt Afford at The House of Bailey



Changes #poetry #photography

golden gate pm

Gold with little rain

I drive through the veil of yesterday

hoping little has changed

I can’t quite see behind

I see tracings of what lies ahead

the giants in today’s sky

are the least of what I dread

San Francisco and the Northern Bay area (of California) will always be considered home. I dont like seeing the changes that the drought has wrought on the state. I like seeing less the effects the drought is having on nature. Wildlife is driven into the cities in search of food and water. The deer are beautiful (though quite lean); the mountain lions a little less desirable.

The Daily Post Challenge for this week is Change.

Yellowed Christmas Memories #poetry #photography #dpchallenge



Brown are the edges

where so many fingers

over years have creased

 the words always warm

Yellow still the Christmas star

that brilliantly shines

in my child’s mind

over silent hill

Golden are the memories

songs long ago sung

visits to the City of Paris

beautiful ornaments they hung

Scrooge Merry Christmas

The prompt this week for Word Press Photo Challenge is Yellow.

Truth #haiku #photography #poetry #Gibran


“Should you care to write (and only the saints know why you should) you need to have knowledge of the art and magic of the music of words, the art of being artless and the magic of loving your readers” ~Gibran



Art opens doors

Without truth we are blind

Stumbling over lies


Behold nature

art in its purist form

Truth will set you free

“When you reach the heart of life you shall find beauty in all things, even in the eyes that are blind to beauty” ~Gibran


This prompt from Chevrefeuille’s Carpe Diem is Truth and Gibran’s truth add inspiration.


Turn Back the Time #fiction #addiction

station clock

I stood before the hands of the giant clock. They teased me as they clicked:

“you can go anywhere in your past

choose but choose fast

before the hand has gone one minute

you will either venture

or quit it.”

I was faced with a genie in a bottle decision. Where do I go? What do I revisit? Can I fix “it”?

In that 30 second time span I chose. “Take me to the year 1968 and the place Haight and Ashbury in San Francisco.”

There I was in a paisley maxi dress with my hair braided. It was me but it wasn’t me. I wasn’t the flower child. My mother was. If I could only save her from this moment where she wrecked her life, my life, my family…

“Can you tell me where Saxi is?” I tried to keep from inhaling the air . The secondary smoke would result in a nasty headache or a “high.”

“She just left with Brad.”

Brad was an innocuous name for a destroyer of life. This creep came into the suburbs to captivate young, attractive women.

“Saxi,” I called as I ran along Haight . I followed a couple of very lost in the clouds hippies. Her eyes barely acknowledged me. The spark that said, I love you sweetie-pie was extinguished.

“Please come home, Saxi.” I whsipered.



I had lived this moment so many times in my adult dreams. “Taxi” I whistled with all my might. I shouted this time holding out a Twenty  which did the trick. Quickly  I grabbed her arm pulling her into the car before she could think in her drugged oblivion.

“Take us to the train station.” I had no desire to have that creep follow us. We were leaving San Francisco and home for good.


The hands moved forward more gently as they shadowed Saxi’s wizened face. Her last, dying words “Thank you for rescuing me sweetie-pie.”




The Haight Ashbury district in San Francisco was known in the 60s and 70s for it’s free love, free pot, free clinics. Long lines of tourists would motor through the district to see the strung-out hippies. I knew several teens who ran away to Haight. Even though their parents eventually got them “back”, they never came home. The heroin addiction in my baby-sitter rendered her an “on again off again “junkie for the remainder of her life.



This week’s writing prompt for Word Press Daily Post was Time Machine.

The photograph of the street sign is from the San Francisco China Times

Weekly Photo Challenge: Unexpected #photography

Flowers blooming in late November?

San Francisco looks more like spring…

The prompt this week at Word Press Photo challenge is Unexpected.

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  7. Here’s Looking Back at You? (wp weekly photo challenge) | Daily Observations
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  11. WPC: Unexpected | Books, Music, Photography & Movies : my best friends
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  13. Rue eau de Robec | Empire of Lights
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  19. The Eiffel Tower Insults My Intelligence | Bumblepuppies
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Why I Left My Heart in San Francisco #poetry #photography

Palace of Fine Arts ~ L. Moon 2010

memories of a child

filtered through the glass of the rainbow

stained and etched color jubilee

standing on a rocking bench

bay wind lashing clothes and hair

no thought that the waves

and you so wee

could make you its bobbing captive

Memories of a child

filtered through the glass of the rainbow

grasping for the end of the stars

dancing to the ringing chimes

of the bell calling out through the fog

ride me to the end of the line

those jaunty cable cars

catch the end of tomorrow

Memories of a child

filtered through the glass of the rainbow

feeding squirrels her task

Golden Gate park their chosen home

It’s It dripping through small fingers it's it

The Art Deco pavilion a staid lady

musical notes of the past in her grasp

a view of a garden paradise

Memories of a child

filtered through the glass of the rainbow

never letting go

the sounds and smells

of the city she loves best

her heart is left behind

pressed in the pages of a living album

San Francisco

her city – her home

photograph of Edwin Deakin’s painting ~ 1915

Artwork: Edwin Deakin

Photographer: Thanks to Mark James Miller for allowing public domain access to this work

“Palace of Fine Arts” © L. Moon