Remember me – Trifecta Challenge


Remember me on Valentines,

the day our two hearts met.

Souls collided, fate stepped in,

serendipity paid its debt.

Remember me at Halloween,

the night I loved the most.

Throwing your Dracula cape aside,

on bended knee, you proposed.

Keep me in mind on Christmas Eve,

while you watch the fire in the hearth.

Feel my spirit staying close,

Afraid of leaving the Earth.

For I will remember you all those days,

And every one in between.

The hardest part of loving you now,

is knowing I’ll never be seen.


Written for the Trifecta Weekly Challenge: Today is also Remembrance Day, celebrated around the world to honour those who have died in the line of duty for their nations. With our birthday and that in
mind, this week’s prompt came easily. Please pay attention to the THIRD definition and happy writing!

Remember (verb):

1 :  to bring to mind or think of
again <remembers the old days>
2 :  archaic
3 a :  to keep in mind for attention or consideration <remembers
friends at Christmas>

b :  REWARD <was remembered in the will>
4 :  to retain in the memory <remember the facts until the test is over>
5 :  to convey greetings from <remember me to her>


• Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.
• You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.
• The word itself needs to be included in your response.
• You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated
• Only one entry per writer.
• If your post doesn’t meet our requirements, please leave your link in the comments
section, not in the linkz.
• Trifecta is open to everyone. Please join us.

The Whisper of Words


I had the pleasure of sharing the creative process with a very talented writer and friend.  Sage Doyle and I put our heads together and this is the result.  If you had not been to his blog, please clink on the link here to check out his brilliance.

The Whisper of Words

Words are delivered in whispers

from poets who have gone long before,

channeling rhymes of wisdom

not to be dismissed as folklore.

So much to be said about words

as we speak of deprived clarity

and words restrained from whispers

disguise our private realities.

Tortured voices of writers,

struggling to capture their muse,

float like feathers in currents of air,

pain and reality infused.

The books become bitter corpses

with nothing but the scent

of musty pages and forgotten shelves

while they await the passing dissent.

The words will live long after

the pages no longer have form.

Those whispers of writers before us

take life and begin to transform.