A Country Girl's Writing

The bitter head of scorn Draped its self in thorns. To us its demeanor was like roses Enticing did they shine  Right before our eyes. Their ugliness was masked With a shiny, colorful, covering. To catch our gaze by dazzling lies Instead of truth, so bitter tasting.  By Evelyn Creon 

Sorry for the super late post. The weather and internet have not been in the best of shape.   In a basket Resting on the floor Lies a little baby Peacefully asleep. Warm and cozy, In sweet dreams. While snowflakes Fall outside in heaps.   B y Evelyn Creon

Passion was what pushed her Too fulfill her dreams. The love of the thing she did Made her success and fame. She really didn't want All the popularity. What she really wanted Was to brighten someone's day. By Evelyn Creon

Leaves on the ground, Leaves on the trees; All in a colorful display, A splendor, an' array.  Red an' yellow, for apples That rest upon the ground.  Orange, for pumpkins  All carved, an' round.  Amber, for spiced cider  A yummy warm, refreshment.  Brown, for the acorns   That we turn into decor.  The colors they're lustrous, A beauty to the eye.  The colors of autumn  That fill the October sky.  By Evelyn Creon

Inspired by a summer evening.  Shh! Listen to the music Directed by the crickets.  They're singing symphonies  In the evening light, If you care to listen.   By Evelyn Creon

Image flashed fore me, I closed my eyes tight.  Darkness settled in With it brought, inept sin.  I cried, "Not again,"  My eyes began to burn  From a fire within,  "I can't look again."   I opened my eyes, The image it was gone, Far from my eye sight.  I could breath once again.  In that dark evil place, The sun began to show 'baft a mountain peek It did begin to grow.  Tears filled my eyes  Once again I denied  Undeniable sin  That tried to rule my life. By Evelyn Creon 

Allergies, allergies go away, I don't like you today. You cause sore throats,  Runny noses, Red eyes,  And sneezes galore.  Allergies, allergies go away, Come again another day.  By Evelyn Creon 

We all have had one of those days where everything seems to go wrong, whether it's because you're late to work or something else. This short prompt was inspired by one of those types a days.  "Oh snap!" I bolted straight up. My restful slumber was disturbed by the sunlight floating around me. I looked at my clock, it was six am. "Drats!" I said outloud. I was supposed to be at work a hour in a half ago. I leaped from my bed. Quickly rummaging  through my dresser drawers trying my to find an outfit. Running down the stairs I grabbed a piece of fruit, my purses, and left my glasses sitting on the table. I ran to the car, started it, and was about to drive away when I realized I didn't have my glasses. This was not how I wanted to start my day. I jumped out of the car, and  ran as fast as I could into the house, grabbed my glasses and was back in the car in the nick of time. I sped down the driveway and arrived at work two hours late. Amidst my ...

 I 'm do excited for this short story. I've been wanting to share it with all of you for the past two weeks, but it wasn't ready two weeks ago.   It was inspired by all the familys that deal with alcohol addiction in their homes.  Whiskey Drinker   a short story by Evelyn Creon Like a ship sinking into a stormy sea, an empty bottle fell from his hands hitting the concrete floor with a crash ,  and shattering into a thousand pieces. He sat there half lying, half sitting in  is chair. The chair was using all its strength trying not to buckle beneath my father's weight. He was drunk. The smell of whiskey was strong on his breath. I sighed, a deep long one, trying to hold back tears of aching pain that filled me at the sight of him. Again I had found him lost in drowning everything with a drink. Guilt filled me. I felt like I should have used softer words when I scolded him like a child. It was in times like  those , when my...

To all the people who understand what it's like when you lose your blanket at night.  Tossing and turning, Around I wrapped A big thick blanket Behind my back. It got so hot, I wiggled and thrashed Kicking the blanket Off my bed. As I slept hours past, Then midnight's roar Scared me half to death, And my body felt frore. I bolted straight up And fumbled around In search of my blanket Blue and round. Yet I felt nothing.  Reaching out my hand It gripped only air, I was getting mad. I got out of bed I stumbled and fell Crashing to the floor How fatal it felt. that's when I felt it So soft and torn It felt so nice though it was old and worn. To tired to move Broken and sore  I fell asleep On the floor. by By Evelyn Creon

Inspired by a road trip to the Rocky mountains. One of the many scenes of an exciting road trip.  Fields of gold  Fly past my Windows.  Fence posts of the thousands, Line the sides of the roads.  Farm house scattered Throughout the fields of gold. No sight of a town  For hundreds of miles.  Trees a rare thing to see  In the sea of gold.  Tumbleweeds, flying through the air  landing here and there.  Fields of gold meet the sky  As far as one can see.  Bright blue and fluffy white  Colors the sky. Over head the sun beats down Upon the earth with waves of heat.  By Evelyn Creon

Today's post was inspired by so the things we forget about. This poem only skims the top of what a lot of us forget.  Forgotten words that hurt so deep, that they left distinguished damage.  Forgotten memories that once  So memorable and were vocally repeated.  Forgotten clothes that were loved  And worn day in and out.  Forgotten books that lay  Deserted upon their shelves.  Forgotten gardens once beautiful,  Now over grown with weeds.  Forgotten homes that  Are collapsing on themselves . Forgotten family members  That don't want to be remembered.  Forgotten lovers,  That we have no reason to remember. Forgotten birthdays , That we are expected to remember.  Forgotten writing that lays somewhere  Unfinished, and catching dust.   forgotten dishes from the day before, That no one had time to wash.  Forgotten expectations...

This short story was inspired by an experience I had right after New Years.   Jimmy’s Dream of Tire Popping  Written by Evelyn Creon  When humans see a rock, they don’t look at it as a living being, because in our world they’re not living. But what if a rock were living and had it’s, own dreams and responsibilities? Let me introduce you to Jimmy the rock. He looks like any ordinary rock and has a story like any other rock. Jimmy’s story is unique though; it’s about how he popped my tire just because he could. It was his dream. Let me start from the beginning… It was January second, two thousand eighteen, in the middle of winter. There had been no snow on the ground for about a week due to all the rain we had had right after Christmas. This was perfect condition for a rock slide. Jimmy was with all the other rocks waiting at the edge of the hillside for the perfect chance to fall. He had been working his way to the edge of the hillside for years. ...

I don't know yet if I particularly like how this poem turned out. I kept debating with myself if I should even post, finally decide I've posted things I didn't really like before. Maybe I'll end up liking this poem later.  Distance away from you  Is pulling at my heartstrings. Trying to start anew, Despite, you I still keep yearning.  Your filling all of my dreams, Reminding me of what we had.  We once stood on moon-beams  Together, I was your comrade.  I long for your embrace The comfort and safety it brought.  Between us is much space   United only in thoughts.  Your hair so rich and brown  Engraved with a unique scent; That turned me upside down  Since the day we first met. Your eyes so lively and deep;  They could see far into my soul. Everything you'd upsweep  Before I'd find a cubbyhole.  Your lips a rosy red; Told me many a day I was loved. ...