Nov PAD Day 12 -- forget what they say

TRUE METTLE
By The Great Oz

You think you lack courage,
kind sir, but
I suspect you've got more
than you realize.

Many have possessed less gumption
than you, but
their chests are decorated nonetheless.
Forget what they

say about mettle, what heroes
wear over their
hearts doesn't matter as much
as what's inside.

Nov PAD Day 10 - a love poem

HEART UNDER A HOUSE

By the "Wicked" Witch of the West

They call us witches
but we were sisters
afterall, the bonds
of sibling love a
magic greater than
any spell either of
us had ever cast.

Nov PAD day 11 - No One Wants ...

NO ONE WANTS A REAL ESTATE CRASH

Some say I'm wicked,
but I don't really care
I've done what I've done
and I've dared what I've dared
I've followed my heart
when others have been scared
And what do I get?
How have I fared?
A house on my head?!
For that, I wasn't prepared.

Three Word Wed -- gesture, immediate, treasure

WELCOME HOME

There's something about the wag of a tail, and
a small treasure in the smile that curls along
the lipline of a furry muzzle.

There's something in those canine gestures that
provokes a Pavlovian response and immediately
curls my own lips into a stupid grin.



*RIP Beaux, my fave canine buddy who was put to sleep this morning*

Carry on Tuesday -- Do you remember what we promised when we met...?

THE SQUEAKY WHEEL

You walked into my life
and I was paralyzed.
Truly.

You walked across the way
and loosened me up.
Thankful.

We promised to move forward
and journey.
Together.

Nov PAD Day 6 - Looking for ...

LOOKING FOR THE EMERALD CITY

I've been told that this is the way
to all that I've been looking for;
that the answers to all my questions
can be found at the end of this road.

I've been told that if I just keep
the course I'll find my heart's desires:
a heart, some smarts, a little courage,
or the way that leads home.

Although, I've also been told that
the journey is the answer and the
questions all lead to more heart, smarts,
and courage. I've always been home.

And so we skip on.

Nov PAD Day 5 - metamorphosis

Inspired by Miss Ruby a week or so ago, I think I'm going to try to focus the rest of my Nov PAD Chapbook Challenge entries on the characters from the Wizard of Oz. Just for fun.

BEHIND THE CURTAIN

I never intended to become
the man who
hid behind a green curtain,

an all-powerful ruler and sage
whose magic lay
in fancy smoke and mirrors.

I never intended to deceive
the people who
wanted to believe in me,

but to give them something,
anything at all,
to put their faith into.

Nov PAD day 4 - containment

THE INBOX

Mom kept all her worries
in a box on her desk. Bills
and baby pictures filled it,
ready to be filed in her
anxious heart.

Nov PAD day 3 - location

HEAVEN'S AFOOT

She held my hand as we walked
on sandy beaches and cobbled
sidewalks that wound through
European neighborhoods older
than our grandmothers.

We tiptoed, my muse and I,
past monoliths and monasteries
searching for god in the faces
and places of 9 countries and
3 continents.

We found it, though. Everywhere
we went, there was the love,
beauty, intelligence, and joy. Like
Dorothy's ruby slippers, we'd
brought the magic with us.

Nov PAD Day 2 - ready/not ready

THE GIRL EFFECT

Girls do not become women
at age 12. The maturation
of their ovaries rarely
match the maturation of
their self.

Here, we see 12 as a
gateway to adolescence,
the path to puberty which
will one day lead to a
womanly self.

No, a girl of 12 can't possibly
be ready to become a mother
or wife - a commonplace piece
of property no longer in control
of herself.

Nov PAD Day 1 - closing door/turning page

ENTRYWAY

The door was never closed really.
At least, I don't remember it
happening that way. I never slammed
it after a fight and he never
cradled the knob in his hand as he
ever-so-carefully slid the big, windowed
beast into the jamb when he came
home late at night.

No, the door was never closed. It
simply sat there, an open invitation into
one anothers' lives, which we chose to
walk near but never through. Every day
the wake of our rushing would push the barrier
ever-so-slowly shut, until one day we
came home and couldn't get in.