Bedelia Plays the Hunch

Prompt: HUNCH


Amid tangled ball of variegated yarn that was her thoughts, Bedelia felt both a smidgen of terror and exhilarated…akin to standing at cliff edge admiring exquisite scenery, while assured one misstep would be fatal.

She’d rehearsed optional lines of script from alternate plots, before deep-breathing a prayer and dialing the number Finn included on the card he’d sent; she was still vacillating between putting the kibosh on further interaction between herself and Finn, or “taking courage”—as someone answered the phone.

When a woman stated, “Canter & Clay Law Office”, Bedelia began stammering an apology—but it wasn’t a mistake; Finn Canter was a family law attorney, semi-retired.

He was glad to take her call, having finished his day’s work, and he asked if she were free for a late lunch—which threw her into an immediate tizzy, her pulse jumping so fast that colored sparks flew before her eyes.

Finn could hear the nervous fidgeting in her voice, and felt rueful; but she collected herself, told him she had a pan of brownies in the oven, and…if he wished to bring his lunch to her house, she’d supply dessert (he was quite agreeable).

She replaced the receiver, and her shaky hands touched her suddenly hot cheeks…the conversation was nothing like she’d practiced alone, but she had a hunch it was divinely directed; hastily setting out ingredients to bake her ‘halflie’, she reminded herself: “trust God, Bedelia…it’s one man and brownies, not the approaching Philistine army”.

©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations, 2020 ~ All rights reserved.

Muse Fired

I fired last muse

She was too cavalier

Careless about deadlines

Prompts, forms

Had “attitude” which

Wasn’t admirable

Arrogance I didn’t

Appreciate…as though

She knew better than I

The memories which haunt

Me, the unmet hopes

Desires, dreams

She began acting like

She was the poet

Possessor of gift, and

I merely supplied

Ink-filled quill

Finest papyrus…

Rumor is, she’s working

White House

©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations, 2020 ~ All rights reserved.

(64 words/online counter)

Mad Affair with Moon (Limerick)

Prompt: Mad

Much as I applaud her beauty, Moon can drive me mad

And leave me lachrymose, despairing, oh so very sad…

But as a poet, I’m drawn to her penultimate allure

Compelled, yearning, piteous, begging silver’d tincture…

Thus, soonest she’s filled to brim, finished thrashing my mortal soul—I’m glad.

©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations, 2020 ~ All rights reserved.


I didn’t sign up for ageing

I’m not obliged to do it gracefully

Pair of ruby slippers might have helped…

I’ll have done well enough, I think

If, with the Good Lord’s patient help

I don’t flounder badly, sink🙂

©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations, 2020 ~ All rights reserved.