#TLT - Sept 21, 2023
May your life have poetry and your poetry, life—
Three Line Thursday is BACK! I would like to encourage you to spread the word and enter weekly.
Also, if you have a Twitter handle, include it below your submission.
prompt word: storm
what
Write something that will move us! Inspired by the photo above. Post your poem in the comments and comment on others.
keep it about the words
- Brevity is Key
- 10 words MAX per line
- 3 Lines
- No Titles
- DO NOT include the prompt word
when
A new prompt will appear on the blog each Thursday at 12 am EDT.
where
Post your entries in the comment box of the current week's prompt post.
why
We are all about fostering healthy habits of creativity and connections.
What can you say, convey, or express in only three lines? Can you paint a visual picture with only words? Tell an entire story that begs to be read?
#TLT – Sept 21 Use the hashtags and share on social! #comelaydownink
Use your imagination. Poetry, Haiku, Senryū, Free Verse, Prose, Flash all are welcome. (Please no graphic use of excessive profanity or overtly disturbing mental images. Let’s use common sense.)
One word per line, fine. Ten words per line (max), fine. As long as it fits in the comment box in three-line format, it counts. Simple, right?
Read other entries and comment. This will be a positive forum for feedback!
16 thoughts on “#TLT- Sept 21”
Bruised sky, black, purple, grey, shot through
with streaks of gold and silver.
Light always finds a way.
Hurling the tree through a window
it leaves us small and blind, each moment
a windsock of breath spilling out.
Swollen city streets,
stale slime smell in the rain,
never as it seems.
Through the glass door of water
I see as above so bellow.
The world there although, holds a shiver.
Do not stand alone
Dark clouds on the horizon
Deluge threatens calm
@HoskingPoet
her days have become
a cyclone of
swirling memories
Brilliant, Candy.
interesting how the window broke
point of impact a slight dent – it was only a plastic bowl –
the cracks a mandala shattered
Love that last line, Petru.
Thick, warm, parched rust
in terminal driving rain,
silt soft settles down.
she came into my quiet and undisturbed life
and created wondrous
havoc
@ewanandsmith
she came into my quiet and undisturbed life
and created wondrous
havoc
@ewanandsmith
So Lovely, Ewan!!!!
Windswept and willing
I bow to the idea of change
Droplets of hope graze my forehead
@flowerinignk
Windswept and willing
I bow to the idea of change
Droplets of hope graze my fingertips
Lovely, Susan. May we all feel those droplets of hope. (Both our poems clearly deserved an echo!)
Comments are closed.