1 we open at sunset

“we open at sunset.”


Why open at sunset?

Why wait until your flowers are dried out 

from being in the sun all day?

Is the store an after work hobby?

In my mind’s eye, I can see the owner.

The sun is low in the deepening blue sky.

The young man pedals quickly on his bicycle

and parks below the red and white striped awning.

The dark-haired man rushes to his plants 

who lie before him wilting.

He grabs them and brings them inside.

I cross the street and peek into the window.

The man tends to the leaves with a fine mister,

then soaks their dirt with a yellow watering can.

He lines them up on the table beneath the window,

rearranging them by size from smallest to tallest.

Before my shocked eyes, the plants stand straighter.

The leaves spread out to hold each other’s hands.

The man steps back with a happy expression on his face.

Our eyes meet through the glass.

He holds my gaze before turning away.

He’s seen me.

His eyes seek mine.

I hold my breath.

A slow smile wings across his face,

dimpling his plump cheeks.

His hand waves for me to enter.

I pull open the glass door as the bell chimes.

The fragrant scent of flowers wafts to my nose

from the shelves of plants around the small room.

I stand beside the tall and handsome man.

Together we watch the plants as they stretch their stems

to the sun streaming through the window.

I whisper, “Why did you wait a whole day to water them?”

He faces me. “That is the way.”

I scrunch my nose as I glance up. “What way?”

He smiles, and his dimples reappear. “The way of the prior owner who told

me to water them only at sunset, and that I should never forget.”

I shrugged. “What would happen if you forgot?”

His stare takes on a faraway look. “These are special plants that must be

watered the same time every day or else they will die.”

“Amazing,” I murmur.

The setting sun lights the plants with an orange glow.

The sun retreats to its bed for the night.

The plants follow suit and drop hands, their leaves standing up straight.

“What happens now?” I ask.

He smiles. “They go to sleep.”


His dark blue gaze falls on me. “Would you like to accompany me 

to dinner this evening?”

My head pops up. “Will you explain more about the plants?”

His dimples deepen. “Of course. And we can share our names.”

I giggled. “That’s right. I don’t know yours.”

“But I know yours, Amy.”


He takes my arm and places it in the crook of his. “All will be explained.”

To be continued


An Island Escape

Take me away from a world without color,
A world where life is dull and grey.
I want to swim through the ocean’s waves,
Where rainbows can frolic and play.

The sun’s rays shimmer off the water,
Leaving trails of gold, yellow, and red.
Beacons of light for me to follow,
To a new land where to lay my head.

I fly through the rolling waves,
Touching down on a spot of land.
I am lifted by arms of fountains
And laid to rest on the pink sand.

Turtles scurry away from my hand.
Birds fly around as they have fun.
The waves recede in their farewell dance,
Leaving me alone in the sun.

Who lives on this small island?
It’s time for me to explore.
A hut of branches in a tree.
I must see if there is more.

The steps are pretty steep,
I climb and step inside.
The room is small and dark.
Who knows what it may hide?

I hear footsteps from the room beyond.
They’re coming closer to where I hide.
It’s too late to run for the door,
I must face whoever is inside.

He saunters into the room.
Candles and two places set.
He throws me a big grin,
As if I am his prized pet.

We both wait in silence.
He slowly moves toward me.
“I hope you like my surprise.”
I feel as cold as can be.

I don’t like surprises.
Especially from him.
He keeps me at arm’s​ length,
Not letting me in.

I lower my eyes
From the fire in his eyes.
They’re consuming me alive,
I’m burning up from his lies.

He makes an abrupt movement.
He strides across the room.
He kisses me with great passion
Under the blood red moon.


babyanimalposts: A BORING AFTERNOON AT THE PET STORE A boring afternoon at the pet store. “What to do? What to do?” the white cat pondered to herself. The only movement was an annoying fly. It flew around the store. The four kittens followed the fly...



A boring afternoon at the pet store.
    “What to do? What to do?”
    the white cat pondered to herself.
    The only movement was an annoying fly.
    It flew around the store.
    The four kittens followed the fly with their eyes.
    In fact, they couldn’t keep their eyes off it.

The fly was black and furry.

    It had unusual yellow stripes down its back.
    The smallest cat wanted it for a new baby brother.
    The Tom cat wanted to swat the thing with his tail.
    The fly finally landed.
    On the Tom cat’s nose.
    “Ouch,” Tom cat screamed out.
    “It bit me!” he said while rubbing his nose.

Fluffy, the big white cat, ran over to Tom.

    She said,”It didn’t bite you but stung you.”
    “Oh no! Oh no! What should I do?”
    Tom ran around in circles.
    The white cat moved closer to look at his nose.
    “It’s fine. If it swells, we’ll put ice on it. It looks better
    than the poor fly.”

The four cats looked down at the fly lying on the ground.

    “It gave its life so it could sting you,” Fluffy said.
    “But why would it do that?” Tom looked confused.
     “It’s the way of life,” Fluffy said in a sad voice.
     “I know! We should bury it with a service and all.”
     The little voice came from the youngest kitten.
     They all agreed with him.

Not having a yard for a burial, they wrapped the fly

     in a tissue and were going to flush it down the toilet.
     But first, the youngest, Squeaky, said a few words.
     Squeaky was sad that the fly didn’t even have a name.
     “Let’s call her Miss Bee,” Fluffy suggested to the group.
     “Why? It was a fly.” Squeaky was upset.
     “No, my dear, she was a bee. And that is why she stung Tom.”
     Squeaky began to cry. 

After wiping his nose and eyes, Squeaky agreed to call

     her Miss Bee.
     “Goodbye, Miss Bee. We’re sorry we didn’t get to know you
     better. I hope you make friends in your new life.”
     With that said, Squeaky flushed the toilet and watched
     Miss Bee float away to her new life.
     “Goodbye Miss Bee,” Squeaky said. “We’ll miss you.”


A party in a deserted house.

Who sent us the invitation?

Is anyone living here now?

Curiosity killed the cat.

And maybe it will get us too.

Come with us.

The more the merrier.







Our imagination entices us.
It takes us to new places.
With our eyes closed,
We could explore the world.

Oceans to be crossed.
Far away places visited.
Mountains climbed.
Passions enjoyed.

A closed door stands before me,
Hiding its own secrets.
I will cross its threshold
With eyes wide open.

The door opens to flowers and sunshine.
Lounge chairs on the hot sand.
The sun shining on the ocean,
Revealing palettes of blues and greens.

A perfect paradise waits for me.
A bathing suit lies across a chair.
Time for a swim and a tan.
A beautiful escape.




Gnarled trees.
Hiding the way.
Hiding the path to the house.
Where a party awaits.
Who will be there?
In this deep, dark forest.
Besides creatures of the night.
Will we be welcome?
Or used as bait?
Will this be another game?
A game of the dead.
Who roam the streets.
And inhabit the forest.
Come with us.
We are frightened.
But curious.
Come with us to the party.
A party in the dead of night.