Cavalier: Weekend Writing Prompt

For Sammi at Sammiescribbles:

Barb, carer of puppies

When it came to the puppies 

Barb was too cavalier 

Saying they were fine alone 

Never being near. 

One day the youngest puppy 

Went out to run around 

He got lost then got stolen 

He still hasn’t been found. 

Barb is now a bit more there 

For now, she sees the harm 

She puts them all on leashes 

And ties them to her arm 

She doesn’t mind the barking 

The biting or the poo 

She’s happy being ready 

For anything they do. 

©2020 CBialczak Poetry

The Sunday Whirl: Wordle 464

The drumming

By the glow of the fire, we could hear the thrumming of the distant drums like waves on the ocean, except coming to our ears. We didn’t mean to stop here; it was because we spent so much time repairing the chimney.  

Suddenly there was a sound of chains rattling, dinning the peacefulness of the drums. The short stint of simple drumbeats was washed out by a score of rattles and clanks from the cells below the town. These cells were like stains upon the finest clothes, never fully disappearing.  

Was this all a dream? Was I even awake? I could smell the burnt wood in the fire.  

©2020 CBialczak Fiction