In the meantime, enjoy the responses I have made to other prompts.

Sunday, April 29, 2018

One of my Twitter posts

New York, New York -
or What I Learned on My Spring Vacation

No more sirens, no more beeping.
Life's not good if I'm not sleeping.
I'll savor city life by day.
By night, in my own bed I'll stay.

Saturday, April 28, 2018

No Water River Prompt 4/28

A Simple Gift’s Meaning

From my void of early memories Effie Bender pushes through
daily donning her white bonnet and a dress some shade of blue.
Just how long our friendship lasted, recollection won’t attest,
but I know our dispositions made us standout from the rest.
Past the clothing and the bonding, there’s the gift her grandma made –
the only present I remember offered me in any grade.
She gave to me a velvet teddy, brown, with paws and ears of white,
dressed up with a satin ribbon, hand-sized width and crayon height.
A rare display of affirmation, one I still have sensing of.
At sixty, as I try to grasp,
I think the bear,
to me,
meant love.

Colleen Murphy
© 2018

Friday, April 27, 2018

No Water River Prompt Response 4/27

From Your Bathroom Scale

You step on me incessantly
and test my fortitude.
But here’s the most degrading part – 
you do it in the nude!
I never get a bit of thanks.
I often hear you swear.
It’s not my fault you ate those chips,
then never left the chair.
And when you’re in denial mode – 
which often seems the case,
you’ll boldly say I fabricate,
but never to my face.
I know I have a job to do;
the workload I expect.
but life would be much better if
you'd show me some respect!

Colleen Murphy

Tuesday, April 24, 2018

No Water River Prompts 4/18/2018

 (A rephrasing of JK Rowling's commencement speech given to Harvard's 2008 graduating class)

When failure strikes, we cannot know
how long before the light will show.
In darkness, though, we find our friends,
abetted by a focused lens.
While discipline sustains our stance,
by strength of will we can advance.
And once the glint of hope's revived,
there's joy in knowing we've survived.

From No Water River Prompt 4/20/2108

What Were You Thinking?

With my gradual slope
you had minimal hope
for the waters to flow.
Tell me, where would they go?
Since what drainage there was
was no longer because
your impervious lots
had now covered my spots
and the bayous, too small,
could not handle it all
With your growth so immense
you’d no practical sense
as you built your abodes 
and established no codes.
With your dams out of date,
mere disaster in-wait,
any fool could portend 
how this story would end.


Monday, April 16, 2018

To the Man in the Moon

“I love you to the moon and back,”
is what my mom will say.
Please tell me Mister, are you close
or are you far away?

Since I’m in bed when you get up,
I never see your face.
I need your help to understand
your distance from my place.

So when my mom asks, ”Do you know
just how much I love you?”
with your response I’ll be prepared
to answer, “Yes I do!”

Saturday, March 31, 2018

No Water River prompts

Decisions, Decisions

To tell or not to tell?
I struggle to decide.
What seems a simple choice
has torn me up inside.
Nadine’s my closest friend;
I don’t want that to change,
but telling her the truth
just feels a little strange.
At last I tell myself:
as friends it is your place.
“Nadine,” I say to her,
“There’s ketchup on your face.”