This blog is for all who desire to create with words and images.
You are encouraged to participate in any way that is meaningful to you.

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All prompts beneath the photos are only suggestions.
You are free to use the photo to be inspired to write any way you desire.
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There is no deadline on posting,
you may offer your writing to any prompt anytime.
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Write and you are a writer.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Duck

Photo by Brett Trafford
visit his site 365 to 42
for more beautiful photographs.
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Suggested Prompt...
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Give her a name and give her a story or poem.
Jemima Puddleduck?



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White was her color,
Pearl was her name,
Her daddy gave it to her
But, to her, it was all the same.

She had a little family,
Their colors varied true...
She felt her life was yet to start,
And she would meet it too!

She often walked along the deck
Out over the black waters
To look out toward the setting sun,
And let the wind ruffle feathers.

She dreamed of things to someday be,
Of a life lived in another day...
Then the time did come when fall turned winter
And they took flight with freedom and away.

She flew at the point with her neck held high
Her feathers blowing in the wind
And now her dreams were coming fast
Her life now began to begin.

Dani

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11 comments:

Stu Pidasso said...

Marla was an abnormal duck.
She used up all of her duck luck.
She took the ducklings and she fled
to another mallard, which to wed.

No matter the rhyme or the reason.
She'll find soon it is duck season.
And when she looks for a safe lake.
She'll find it bare with no drake.

Maybe a decoy placed with care
to lure her to alight right there.
As she taxis in to rest her ass,
"BOOM, BOOM, BOOM", Duck under glass.

Steve Costello said...

Hey you guys. How is the water?

DCW said...

From my beak rise dulcent notes
Won't someone feed me Quacker oats?

morganna said...

White duck,
Jump in the gray water,
Swim away home
To a nest in green reeds.

Unknown said...

How about a movie trailer haiku?

Coming this summer...
Jemima Puddleduck is...
Kate Pond - Secret Spy!

da dat dat dadaaaaa!!!!

Unknown said...

WATER OFF A DUCK'S BACK

If it walks like a duck and talks like a duck
It must be a duck

If it swims like a fish and breaths like a fish
It must be a fish

If it barks like a dog and chews like a dog
It must be a dog

If it meows like a cat and sleeps like a cat
It must be a cat

If it looks like a human and acts like a human
Never, ever believe they are a normal human

Humans can be
Sarcastically catty
Mean as a dog
Slippery as a fish
Clueless like a duck

Being a human can sometimes be underrated
Or very worthwhile and appreciated
Lonely, hollow, self-deprecating
Friendly, happy, and very loved

Too many humans worry
Too many stress
Instead of letting problems go
Like water off a duck's back

Anonymous said...

My Russian History teacher used to say this all the time:
If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck its a COMMUNIST!

Heather said...

Sweet Jemima Puddleduck
Found herself with a bit of luck
Waddled down, to and fro
Frills and feathers placed just so
Heart-a-pumping, beating fast
Eagerly hoping to see at last
The little bug holding magic true
Swimming through the waters blue
Shiny bug with all his might
Found her there below the light
Standing on the dock with hope
He scurried up the tiny rope
Touched her beak and then she knew
Jemima Puddleduck now flew
To the other side of town
Searching for a silly clown
What and why’s might fill your head?
Others asked her too, and said:
“Jemima Puddleduck, what for?
This clown has nothing for you in store.”
Quack and waddle, she did not care
Just followed her heart against the stares
The clown reached down to pick her up
There she found that little bug
Again to touch her orange beak
Another part of her did tweak
Jemima Puddleduck had changed
Into a rather gorgeous dame
And to this day, the people stare
They never knew, were unaware
How a little bug with a magic touch
Could change Jemima so darned much
No longer feathers, but hair of gold
And with the clown, she did grow old

glnroz said...

The pool of dread
of its snow white head,
The sound will not be a quack...
To the duck Doctor I'll go,
The treatment I'm sure will show,
Won't be covered, but smothered
By that silly policy ,AFLAC

i gotta do better than this next time,, lolol,,,

Dani said...

White was her color,
Pearl was her name,
Her daddy gave it to her
But, to her, it was all the same.

She had a little family,
Their colors varied true...
She felt her life was yet to start,
And she would meet it too!

She often walked along the deck
Out over the black waters
To look out toward the setting sun,
And let the wind ruffle feathers.

She dreamed of things to someday be,
Of a life lived in another day...
Then the time did come when fall turned winter
And they took flight with freedom and away.

She flew at the point with her neck held high
Her feathers blowing in the wind
And now her dreams were coming fast
Her life now began to begin.

christine said...

what is the orange sauce they speak of when they see me?

what is an eiderdown I'm going to help them with?

why did they take my eggs away?

what is an omelette?

they feed me scaps, but I see the hunger in their eyes.