Love’s Leaf

From the Daily Writing Prompt on WordPress. 

Love is like a leaf.

It appears from out of nowhere like a hidden magic of the Spring and spreads fast, reaching high towards the bright revealing light of the sun.

The leaves grow until it becomes a part of us, mixture, the color born out despite the stagnation of our history and roots.

It can feed us well and makes us seem larger than life, fuller than the frame of the Human restraints of body and instinct that lie beneath love’s leaves.

Winds of change can take it from us, breaking the bonds that hold the leaves to our wooden skeletons, causing us to sway in the waves of the storm, calling for relief so we do not lose our proud majesty.

Seasons change as well for love’s leaf, the chilled fall air making once proudly vibrant leaves whither, before winter’s cold embrace reminds us that we are once again alone in the whitewashed cold, longing for encouraging breezes and warmer days that now seem like a fantasy.

Love’s leaf grounded, trapped under the ice of regret and loss, but yet again the sun will move closer to our cycles, a random spark will erupt inside the barren trunks of the Human heart and make them flare up again, and the fallen leaves of yesterday’s lost loves will only fertilize a new Summer’s cauldron of joy.

–Thomas Spychalski 

Please visit the daily one word writing prompt of ‘leaf’ for more posts from this prompt and thanks for reading.

AW Blog Chain July: Independence and Slavery

This was supposed to be part of Absolute Write’s July Blog Chain, which had the prompt, Independence and Slavery.

However, I messed it up, kind of forgot about it and then still wanted to at least show there was something there, even it was written in about two hours.

Following my post is links to the other entries for July…

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Stan & His Wife:

Stan could not believe it.

There they were, arguing out in public like they usually would do after a few drinks, middle of the night on another rainy Saturday, one where the streetlights made the rain puddles in the parking lot seem like small lakes made of liquid silver.

Rainy Days

This post is part of the Absolute Write’s March Blog Chain, which was given the prompt: Rainy Days. Please see the links below the body of this post for the other blogs that contributed to this month’s chain.

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The dog refused to go potty.

This was a problem as it was pouring rain, windy and cold.

Alex pulled up the collar of his jacket against the wind and gave a little tug on the dog’s leash.

“Come on you dizzy dog, we have to go in, I’m freezing.”

But the Yellow lab sat down in the damp grass, staring up at his master with her ‘puppy dog’ eyes, then resumed  staring across the field towards the abandoned farmhouse and the highway beyond. Somewhere high above and off to the West, a low and ominous rumble of thunder rolled across the fields next to Alex’s house, pressing the matter.