Willingly Suspending Disbelief

In the Ozarks? Now can ya believe it?
She goes to a fancy, dress ball?
And the plot? Well what in tarnation?
T'aint likely or plausible at all!







Our Three Word Wednesday prompt was:
willingly, taint, plausible

buckle, evade, wedge

The more he evaded the truth,
the tighter his testimony
became wedged between the incredulous and the ludicrous.
Finally, it buckled--right there in the witness stand.
And he was left entangled in the wreckage of his own deceit.

Educate, Object, Silence

They say that as the twig is bent, so grows the tree...
and I have seen it--crooked little saplings forced to cower.
They wrench their twisted limbs and drop their flying seeds haphazardly to scavenge midst hard roots. Their boughs are educated to bend low and make no answer.
Yet I have heard them shriek--an awkward, unbecoming, and completely futile objection to certain fierce storms--before they droop to seethe in distorted silence.

Lean, Dabble, Utter

Hush! The lean Cassius
Dabbles in a regicide
Unutterable!

Sky and Trees

Polychrome backdrop
Bronze silhouettes
A splendid morning

November Fire

I took these pictures of trees this morning, in my yard and this evening grabbed the sunset on my way home from buying groceries.
 




It's warm right now, but a North wind is blowing.

They say the storm will strike us all tonight, so I had to capture this last fire before the ice.

 

The Gentleman from Gadara

They said I had a demon--but I knew better.
A thousand of the dirty things were screaming through my mind,
and, when I counted echoes in the caves, I heard a million.
They compelled me.
They controlled me.
They consumed me.
Until I--like a tortured breath of smoke--quivered, crying while they stormed, broke chains, snapped locks, and raged.
I was a mad, mad man in a world of shrouded, swine-smelling darkness.
Until the morning--the morning after that big storm.

It had raged all night.
They had too, dragging me along for the frenzy.
I was so tired at dawn's approach,
so collapsed and curled-up in the cave,
that I almost missed the sound of His light footsteps.
a foreign flame that kindled my last longing...

Could my little smoke escape them?
Could I run blazing through that pandemonium palisade,
a spewed chunk of tinder trembling through the sky in a feeble arc of fire?
 No pause before I sprang; no time for second guessing,
just a savage leaping toward the man ascending from the dock.
I charged, shaking and I ran straight to him...
Then I crumpled at his feet--
for they had caught me.
All awake and stomping, they were roaring in my throat.
I couldn't talk. I couldn't beg. The nasty things were crowding, stifling the scream of my so-desperate soul with their incessant, endless babbling, leaving me no voice...no voice at all.
Then, merciful Heaven above! The things were leaving!
I felt the pain of thunderous clawing as they trampled in their haste to slam the door.
In the faint and far off distance I could hear them--squealing, snorting--
as they dove off jagged cliffs that lined the shore.

Quiet.
The most beautiful nothing I'd ever felt.
Quiet.
They brought me clothes. I ate some bread.
And then we talked. No noisy interruptions.

My whole voice was mine again.
So I offered it to follow Him.
And I told my story...like I'm telling it now,
over and over in my own still voice.
What a difference a day made!