Belinda’s Dream

Belinda in San Francisco

dreams she’s riding a white pony

through a sandstorm of pink roses.

Beautiful Belinda I’ve met only

in blog posts and comments,

as I’ve met most of you

who knock politely at my blog’s door,

you mysterious sweeties leaving

cake and champagne on my top step,

 
each of you just as awesome as my blue guitar.

55 words of fictional reality inspired by the “Belinda’s Dream” shrub I recently met in our Bontanical Gardens.

55 words for the one, the only, the incomparably incomparable — G-Man.

xoxoxoxoxoo to all.

How To Touch Up Your Roots At Home, In 14 Easy Steps

1. remove bra
(yours or any consenting adult’s)
🙂
(dye can stain)
2. wrap old towel around shoulders
3. take “before” photo…

4. make tea
5. color hair
6. drink wine in bath
7. forget to take “after” photo
8. let 2 weeks pass.
9. take this today…

10. add Easter dinner photo hubby took 2 days after colorment
11. remove old toenail polish…

12 eat salad
13. write this
14. post

Those were 55 words for The G-Man!

P.S. Yes, I KNOW I need to file and shape my toenails.  And I WILL! All in due time, my buds, all in due time.

🙂

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

She Writes A Ballad — in 55 words

Is it the kind merry
men in tights wooed
young maidens with?

The kind cowboys
sang ’round campfires
after eating beans?

The kind of ballad
damp teens swayed to
at sockhops in 1979?

Or the kind a free bird
in some hotel in California
would climb a stairway to heaven
for front row tickets to hear?

Those 55 words of (mostly) fictional persuasion are for our host — the G-Man.

Post your own 55 — it’s funner than sucking on tequila-dipped french fries.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

14 guys in kilts — a poem in 55 words

on an April morning smelling on and off
of maple fudge boiling on an old wood stove,
she sat on a bench where no bills were owing
and nothing sad had ever or could ever happen,
her camera zoom lens having almost as much fun as
14 guys in kilts dancing the can-can in an Easter parade.

Those evershall remain 55 Friday Flash Fiction words for The G-Man.

xoxoxooxox

A Band Of Roving Poets — in 55 words

A band of roving poets
draped in fig leaves and
the aroma of scrapbooks

skips through the azaelas

then home to dangle
thoughts on clotheslines
for passersby to see,

some elaborate word quilts
others Rorschach shawls,
others single poetic socks.

However you look at them,
this band of merry poets is
one ass-kickingly bardly bunch.

55 words for The G-Man.

Don’t be shy — give a 55 a try.

And here are the winners of the Aventine Hill soaps with hand-written Jannie letters, except I with the help of a Randomizer chose 3 of you, not 2…

1. Monkey Man

2. Katherine of A New Day

3. Olivia of Olivia’s Life Instances

Please contact Funsterment Global to claim your prize. Thank you.

Posted with love, by Jannie
xoxoxo

(photo I took in Zilker Gardens the other day.)