Investigated and Analyzed

Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
I used to wonder what you are,
But up above this world so high,
Compositional data has been gathered from the sky.

Friday night's dream, on Saturday told,
I was sure would come true,
Until facts killed dreams cold.

Lavender's green, dilly, dilly, lavenders blue.
If you love me, dilly, dilly, I will love you.
Let the birds sing, dilly, dilly, let the doves coo.
I did my own experiments and I know that's not true.

Star light, star bright
Science and fact feed our minds right,
But I wish we may, I wish we might,
Have our magical thinking back,
If just for one night.

This post was written as a contribution to Sunday Scribblings. Go here to see what others wrote or to join the fun yourself.


Why I Shouldn't Write Poetry in the Park

My friend said please write poetry in the park,
On cardboard beside her art.
She wanted rhymes,
Which took a long time.
Free speech right ends
At 10 PM.
We got arrested.
She protested.
But Cop's right--
My rhymes should be illegal and not just at night.

I was going to finish telling you the rest of that other story today. But I got sidetracked. Lucky for me G-Man has friends with friends who have friends in high places. I was sentenced to 55 words. Consider the sentences served, G. ;)

This flash fiction 55 is a contribution to G-Mans Friday Flash 55 and a response to his Thursday blog. Click here to see what others wrote or to join the fun yourself.

**The picture above was taken at Occupy SL sim on Second Life. Also, no "real" people were incarcerated in the execution of this 55.


Great Escape

The past couple of weeks I've been using Friday 55 to share the misadventures of a certain erotic romance writer researching the subject of her recent novel.We left off with our poor heroine hanging upside down by her ankles and wondering how you politely refuse an invitation to cherish a fellow's Popsicle. If you've missed the two prior episodes and are wondering why she's hanging by her ankles, look here. If you're wondering what Popsicles have to do with it, look here. If you're dying to know what happened next, see below.

As soon as the hunter cut me down, I dove through a hedge.

Bad move.

His horse was on the other side, and due to something called lag, I wound up attaching it to my head and stuck at the bottom of a river.

Wouldn't you think he'd walk away at that point?

He didn't!

This post is written a s a contribution to G-mans Friday Flash 55. To see what others wrote or to join the fun yourself, click here.


Research Gone Wrong cont.

Last week I shared a little incident that occurred while I was doing research for Snatch Me at one of Second Life's capture roleplay sims. Virtual worlds are complex to navigate, Second Life especially, and let's keep in mind I was only six months out from my rez date--not sure how old that is in real years--which means I looked and acted like a complete dork most of the time. At risk of ruining my image as a glamorous, sophisticated writer of romance, I will bow to reader requests and tell you what happened next.

Your Popsicle's Melting

What would you do if a giant,
nearly-naked man hooked a leash around your neck?
I took a giant step back.
Yep, right into that same trap.
Once again I was upside down,
nose to nose with...
not his nose.

Could it get worse? Yes.
I think he said this: "So, vous voulez choyer mon popsicle."

Oh darn, I'm at the word limit again. This little tidbit was posted as a contribution to G-man's Friday Flash 55. Click here to read what others wrote or to join the fun yourself.