Where Everything Good Happened

Grateful appreciation to the exquisitely talented photographer and blog author at One Letter Up, for permitting me to use her photo of the gazebo/reflection for my inspiration.  Click the link to visit her and see her incredible collection.  Thanks muchly! 💖

It was where everything happened

Falling into love in autumn ‘mid

Crispy rusted leaves whispering

On nippy breezes…

‘Icicle-promise’ confidences shared

As winter’s mirror pond blurred with

Skim of shimmered crystal slivers

Lightest snow flakes beginning

To swirl, luminesce upon our hair…

Spring revelry, green branches’ fast-

Budding blooms, and paralleling

Passion stirred to humid frenzy

Thousand stolen kisses’ fragrant

Fresh petals… Until night, perfect

Summer night of secret-sacred

Forever vows, made in gazebo with

Only our reflections as witnesses…


Night of mystic moonlight’s soft

Radiance lingering… We danced

To tinkling stars’ songs, silver

Wind chimes, calling ourselves

Infinitely blessed…regardless

How little time we had left

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

Today’s prompt: Write something around the words “mystic moonlight”

Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge–June 30, 2020

Eternal Heart



Bedelia sat by the window where the slipping sun shot through her prism, splashing rainbows on walls and ceiling, and mused softly: “which is eternal—love, or the heartache it holds?”

She held the Victorian watch, fingered the sterling scrollwork which resembled ocean waves, and thought of him…

He’d seen her sitting in the dark, the whispering palms and surf behind her, moon glow lighting silent silver streams that slid down her cheeks.

“What is it, Love—tell me,” he’d spoken tenderly, his matinee idol face in shadow…

Etched like scrimshaw on eternal heart, forever ago…was it true memory, or merely recurrent dream?

Closing her eyes she could feel his hand, warm and smooth against her cheek…real as fading prism rainbows.

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

Swimming In Dreams


You wait in my dreams

And it feels like we’re swimming

Sleep’s blurry filter

Time machine that spins us back

Your striking smile welcomes me


My love is mindless

Your passion’s intentional

An effortless swim

Together, turquoise shallows

Ripple-kissed, sun-glittered waves


But we’re not swimming

Actually…just backdrop

Otherwise I’d wake

Dripping seawater…not tears

Wond’ring how you slipped away

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

Holiday Surprise (50-Word-Thursday)


Quote Prompt: “Oh dear, a marriage specialist,” says Nancy. – In Sight of the Lake by Alice Munro.


The anniversary surprise from Richard promised romance in style.  Nancy hummed with anticipation.

They met their dining companions, where a woman welcomed them, explaining her work and hopes for their success during the conference.

Richard observed as realization, disappointment sank his wife’s countenance.

“Oh dear, a marriage specialist,” says Nancy.

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

Nothing of Value Lost


Reena’s Prompt:

“He had lost everything of value to him. There was an empty canvas on the easel, his colors and tools. What would he paint?”


He had lost everything of value

To him…there was an empty

Canvas on the easel, his colors

And tools…what would he paint?

I tell him he has only lost

His perspective, merely a

Cloud, soon to move along.

He has wealth, talent

Unstructured time to fill

As he pleases…and has he

Forgotten?  He has me.

I ask if he remembers

The day we met, when I

Was still a child.


He wipes un-shed tears

On his denim shirtsleeve

Smile tracing shyly ’round

His perfectly etched lips.

“Yes”, he says, “you thought

I was really something.”


“I knew you would save

My life,” I say.


“And now you want

To save mine, huh?

You can’t hold back

Time, Love…I’m an

Old man.”


He used to say I

Kept him young.

I tell him time, the whole

World, stopped when I

First saw him…my heart

Locked upon his eyes, the

Planes of his face

Excruciatingly handsome

And his voice became

Melody e’er repeating

Through my mind.


Ego salved, he asks

“Shall I paint you another


He knows I never tire of them

Nor tropical flowers he

Brings to life in acrylics.


“Why not try painting ‘love'”

I whisper, blush rising ‘gainst

My cheeks, forever flame.

He studies me, muses, asks

“Think you could hold a pose

Long enough for me?”

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

Ah, Celtic Romance (3LineTales)

Three Line Tales, Week 215

photo by Gabriel Ramos via Unsplash


Throughout their life together they couldn’t afford much of a vacation, so she always told him, “let’s just drive to the beach”.

He loved her for that, and had saved up for something special to celebrate their 40th anniversary… “how about Hawaii?” he offered.

“How about Ireland,” she countered, grinning… “maybe we’ll run into those Celtic Thunder guys”.

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

Returned to the Sea

Three Line Tales, Week 212

photo by Jeremy Bishop via Unsplash


The sea had called her since birth…whether due to flawed seamen fathers, or Divine seed in her blood.

How her heart yearned, ached to be with it and never leave… “oh, to be a mermaid”, her childhood wish.

The rock was high and firm above magnificent waves—their melded colors mercurial, gemlike; but when twilight wrapped its cape around her, she heard the siren’s sing-song melody…and slipped into salt-rich beckoning depths.

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

New Year, Old Hearts

After celebratory sounds subside

Fireworks, neighborhood festivity

We sit silent together, side by side

Words unneeded, thoughts woven intricately

We’ve watched calendar pages, wish-filled, waft

Bearing hopeful plans, and prayers aloft

While seasons of love in youth’s flight almost blur

Mem’ries, matched moments, embers linger

Our gnarled hands reach, as if on cue, your eyes

Speak timeless language in forget-me-not blue

We’ve lived sea’s tidal melody, constancy…

Another year and decade new

Two old hearts bound strong, e’er true

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