PAD Challenge – Page 3 – Fae Corps Publishing

break the machine
imagine living life
so well,
death bows their head;
i want an adventure
like that—

so tired of holding on
just to struggle through
another day,
think we all deserve more than to
simply exist;
we were meant to live—

so many beautiful things in this
world that i have yet to
see or experience,

and so many stories i have yet
to write;

never seem to have enough
time of my own to make me mine
so i’m not sure what to do about that,
all i know is i wasn’t born to be
just another cog in their machine;

and i’ll break it if i can find a way to.
-linda m. crate

She is absolutely killing the challenge! How are you doing with the prompts?

How are you doing with the prompts ?

our magical selves
shady picnics
beneath the wizened
and wise old maples and oaks,

a blanket of red and white
checked squares laid
out among the blades of grass;
little finger foods perfectly portioned
and preserved to keep the bugs
out—

we sit and tell stories
of old and new,
recalibrating the star dust
of our souls;

as we sing a song of our own—

no threat of work, chores,
or reality to come crashing in;
just us and these blue skies
full of puffy white clouds cheering us
on to be our magical selves.
-linda m. crate

Have you done Your response to the Fae Prompt today?

we were blessed to have three wonderful submissions from Linda.

poet like me
faeries dance
on the edge of
magic,

and i’ve seen them
dancing in the woods

on the caps of
red capped mushrooms
with their little white
polka dots;

and i’ve seen them dancing
in cherry blossom flowers
as the wind has swayed their
branches—

if they hide from you
perhaps you’re not a poet
like me.
-linda m. crate

dance in the sky
the sound of the soul
is a beautiful, winding thing
full of magic and murmurs;

there’s joy and laughter,
hope and dreams,
there’s darkness and nightmares,
pain and misery;
but it’s all sewn together in
a lovely song of
star dust—

maybe there was something in
the sunlight of your soul that sang to the
moonlight of mine,

just wanted to dance with you
in the same sky;

the one we call love—

it’s the greatest of magics,
we’ll ever know;
and you woke in me the
dreaming and magic in me when
i thought i was dead—

taught me there was beauty of my scars,
it only makes sense that you’re still
dancing in so many of my soul hymns.
-linda m. crate

remember the moon
rosefinch,
the forest’s heart
knows your name;
as she knows
mine—

i wonder if our
names still
fly together
somewhere—

perhaps that’s arrogant
of me to
assume,
but it’s really just
wishful thinking;

i wish we could pick up
where we left off

yet i know that’s wishful thinking—

perhaps optimism that
borders on the line
of foolishness,

but i remember that peach champagne;
and my hair spilling out of your
little pink car as we fell into the universe
without a car at all—

if you walk into the forest and see
a raven,
just know that’s me;
singing my strange song in the hopes
you remember the moon.
-linda m. crate