OctPoWriMo 31 - A Step

Step out into the strange uncharted zone—
The road you walk goes ever on and on,
And though, at times, it feels you walk alone,
New companions come with every dawn.

Dawn is breaking as you reach a peak,
And night is falling as you tramp the plains.
Oft times, you feel you won’t find what you seek:
Losses along the way outweigh the gains.

Gains are often small, but you must know
That they are all important to your road:
No matter what you do or where you go,
Whether you are spurred, or when you’re slowed.

Slowed you may oft be, but then again,
Turn a corner, find a little pep;
Under sun, or through the wind and rain,
Your journey starts and ends with just a step.

Image via Pixabay

OctPoWriMo 11 - The Other Side of Love

Today's prompt asks us to write about "creating a better world for children."

The Other Side of Love

All life is of value

No matter age or size;

You can see the wonder

Reflected in their eyes.

Before you were considered,

The Father knew your name.

He will never leave you;

He loves us all the same.

Anyone who injures

A child of God above

Will learn, to their dismay,

The other side of love.

OctPoWriMo 5 - Fire and Blood

Today's prompt is about autumn, and I chose to go with a theme of death and rebirth. I wrote this in church this morning.

Fire and Blood

I lay in the grave, my life at an end,

No one to save me, gone are my friends.

Then You come—You rush in like a flood.

You are the One: fire and blood.

I rise again to live with You:

No more pain; all is new.

Fragile Flesh

Campaigner Challenge #2
The second challenge for the Writing Campaign can be seen here. I wrote a scene with two characters from one of my WiPs. For another piece on Lance, see here. I would love feedback on this piece if you are so inclined. Please critique.

Christopher groaned and leaned back against the rusty supports under the crumbling bridge, gripping his blood-soaked leg. Lance tore a strip from the hem of his once immaculate white shirt, and wrapped it tightly around the gash. The red flow slowed, and Lance’s shoulders sagged as he sat back on his heels, brushing back his sopping, muddy hair. Though he had once been human, he often forgot how fragile the species were, like a burst of fireworks or like ripples in a pond—beautiful, yet fleeting.
Lance stared at the river, imagining that he saw shapes in the random patterns of water: a heart, a winking eye, a pear … then his gaze caught on the thin red line that joined the river near his right foot. He and his brother had once owned jackets in that shade, given by their mother for an early birthday. Raoul had been so proud of that coat! The twins had gone down to the seaside and were building forts with the small rocks that littered the shore when Raoul had slipped and fallen in. Lance had panicked, plunging in to pull his brother out, but Raoul was only worried about his new coat.

Requiem for Innocence

Won't someone save the children?
I fear nobody will.
They're hiding in the shadows
As Darkness comes to kill.

They've barely started living,
But evil doesn't care.
This killer has no mercy;
Not one of them he'll spare.

The boy who dreamed of freedom:
He is the first to die.
He wanted peace and justice;
He never ceased to try.

He lived life with a passion;
He loved with all his heart.
You see, he felt too strongly
From the very start.

I hear the cries of younglings
As they're sent into the grave
By hands that should protect them.
He is once again a slave.

-Esther Spurrill-Jones