Randomly, RiteWit.com will offer you a writing prompt. Feel free to create a poem, prose, short story, or just a word that the prompt inspires. No rules–just write. Thanks for adding the hashtags as seen.
Here’s one:
Covered black as youth
I possess white eyelashes
Now, clean, free to fly
#prompt #ritewit #haiku

Funny story–when I was young, I loathed my white eyelash and brow. Primarily on the right, it made me appear to have a small eye. The left one was adorned with dirty blonde accoutrement, so it was a bit more visible. Sadly, my little sister, Josie, possesses this hardship, too. I begged my mom to wear makeup, and finally for the sixth-grade school pictures, she allowed mascara. Well, that daily habit endured for forty-four years without fail. Think of the tens of thousands of tubes of mascara purchased.
I realized, while peering into a 10X magnifying mirror this week, that I have my old white eyelash eye back. It was a surprising sight, so I showed my husband. “I knew you had it, and I like it,” he commented. A tiny smile crept to my mouth, and a mini lightbulb went off in my head. Yes, here it is. An old friend. Shame I was embarrassed and abhorred this thing. It is me. It is the frame of my eye. I should like and cherish it.
With #Covid-19, many have left cosmetics, and particularly makeup, in the drawer. Me included. We see folks from the bridge of their nose, over to their temples, and up to foreheads. The brows may be too noir or white as snow, or any colour in between–some trimmed, some bushy. The all-important eyes contain our focus. You and I yearn for a kindly glance, a twinkle, a summons.
Just yesterday, a dear friend told me, “I am giving you a hug with my eyes.” I looked. I saw. I felt–and boy, it felt good! Flash those clean, natural, gorgeous peepers! They are a gift to allow all the beauty in the world to enter to your heart. Try to hug people with your eyes during these hard times. It can mean the world to people, and ultimately, to you. It did to me.
(Special note: I love eyes so much that for twenty-three years I was in the eyecare industry; ophthalmology, optometry. I look for and see eyes, but it took this pandemic for me to see my own, again, after a long time.)
We do have gifts.. ππ»π ππ» Have a great day!π
Wonderful work π«β€π«πππ«
Oh Wendy happy birthday to your dad. What a wonderful poem. Dad’s are so special. I still miss mine.
Wonderful
Delughtful!
Life is a poem.
All is wellβ¦ Itβs just a poem
Everything is poetry. Everyone is a poem
Life is nothing? life is everything,
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Frosty cold mornings. Horses with white, ice-covered eyelashes and whiskers. Breath is visible. Hands warmed under manes. Winter.
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Love this. I can see them and feel their warmth.
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Butterfly kisses no more, loss becomes memoryl
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