Category Archives: Writing Contests

Poetry Contest/ #50 PRECIOUS WORDS/

The Eyes of a Dyslexic Child By RL Brown (WC 190)

My brain hurts.
My eyes won’t work.
I can’t read anymore.
Why do letters move?
Be still, so I can read you.			
Yet, I hear the letters whisper-
Don’t give up.

Jumbled Words.
Letters flip and flop. 
Then they jump and hop.
Why do letters move?
Be still, so I can see you.
Still, I hear the letters whisper. 
Say my name.

Grumbled Sounds,
And mumbled tones, 
Never sounding the same.
WHY do letters move?
Be still, so I can hear you.
Then I hear the letters whisper-
Blend the sounds.


Teacher, Teacher!
The letters are moving!
No, no, that’s in your head.
Why do letters move?
Be still, YOU!
Now, I hear the letters whisper-
Concentrate. 

Taking Test
Orally, I’m best.
I can’t print on the test.
Why do letters move?
Be still, so I can write you.
Scared, I hear the letters whisper-
Yes, you can. 

Read aloud!
Nervous mistakes,			
Makes my insides quake. 
Why do letters move?
Be still, so no one laughs at me. 
Wow, I hear the letters shout. 
Keep on going. 

Every day,
my teacher says,
“You’re reading better today!”
“Why did letters move?”
Not anymore! 
I hear the letters shout, hooray!
I’m reading today. 

Rex hated to read aloud. Words skipped, tripped and stumbled over his tongue like jabbering gibberish. Flustered, Rex stopped.

Susie loved to read aloud. Her words glided in seamless syllables of streaming sounds. Her correctness rattled Rex. 
 
Susie closed the book. Torrents of confusion ceased; his heart sank in horrible comparison.  Susie can read and he cannot. 

Rex wished he could slash words off all the pages. Then there would be no more letters picking at his brain. The pages would be silent like listening to quiet rain.

(WIP)
Photo by mentatdgt on Pexels.com

Pollinizers and their Pollinators

By RL Brown (WC 147)

Brontebrown2 GIF - Find & Share on GIPHY

GIF for Spring Fling 2021/ Designed in GIPHY.com / excerpt from RasulRaumaVideo

The Honeybees
Tiny things that run the world,        
with whispered beats, their wings unfurled. 	
Bees love blooms with anther thread,     
and favor hues of blue and red.      
Bees create a honey treat-                
with lavender so pure and sweet.    (36)
			
The Butterflies
Dainty things that run the world,        
with silent beats, their wings uncurled. 	
Butterflies from all around 
follow scents near the ground. 
Mini-feet dance on top a bloom-	
searching for nectar to consume. (34)

The Hummingbirds
Little things that run the world,        
with humming beats, their wings unfurled. 	
Hummingbirds need constant fuel. 
Scented flowers attract this flying jewel.  					
Forward, backward, upside down- 
these acrobat flier rush around. (32)




Autumn Breeze by RLBrown

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Photo by R. Brown
Old Mill, NLR, AR

Snuggled in a blanket, thick socks warm my toes, a hot latte melts my insides, and a fall breeze tickles my nose. Achoo!
Hay bales decorate storefronts with scarecrows and pumpkins, adorn with autumn hues. It’s a typically crisp autumn day, lacking the humidity and heat of yesterday. ACHOO – Achoo.
A visit to the pumpkin patch on a sunny afternoon, thick with particulates and allergen visibly floating in the air. Achoo, Achoo, and ACHOO!
The Harvest Moon fills the evening sky, the horizon allowing only the yellow, orange, and red hues to filter through – Achoo, ACHOO!
The smell of cinnamon and spices and a warm pot of stew remind me of fall and winter coming soon. Achoo!
The Harvest Moon disappears for another year as the fall wind blows the dust away and brings the fresh, clean air. Time to slow down, look around, and breathe in this fall season, even with a sneeze or two.

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#50PRECIOUSWORDS 2021 is Officially OPEN!

Fairytale Fishing / A Haiku (WC 49) written by RL Brown

Excerpt from My Grand is an Alien

Acrylic Pointing by RL Brown
Just Grand, Gramps, and me-
There’s no carrying large totes,
no buckets, no boats.

A pole in each hand
Crickets wait by the pondbank.
Gramps catches our bait.

Nibble, then a tug.
Fishermen feel the line and-
wait to jerk the hook,

-then reels-in a big fat brim.