Life is a pink cocktail of covered muscle and blood,

a competition for an inhale before the last exhale.

Today we remain.

We dance under the morning sun bathing, rocking our heads back and forth, regurgitating the pink crop milk with the music of survival in the background.

A frog jumps into the frame and wants in on the action.

He is not the only one.

Foreign species maneuver themselves towards us as if they can buy their way in with their garish dress and unrealistic conveyance.

They are as out of place as the belly up fish and should heed the warning.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Tree roots reaching

to the green tinged creek,

dappled ripples

when you dare to peek.

The wild beauty

that remains untamed,

pretty poison

is slightly misnamed.

But waves increase,

with the flower's dance

a top metal,

glowing at first glance.

Pink ruffles shine,

daring to glower.

Pretty poison

leaks from this flower.

canoeing through lily-pad spotted swamps and butterfly-swarmed forests was a daydream. although i dripped sweat and swatted at gnats every other moment, the afternoon was lovely in so many ways. camera around my neck, i photographed anything and everything that caught my eye. and here is one photo from today! i gasped (quite dramatically) when i saw this woman adorned in a princess-aurora-like gown and emerald earrings. she was balancing in the canoe before the enchanting, viridescent swampland. i could not resist capturing the moment! so, here is the photograph i would like you all to use to inspire your writing piece. it can be any genre, style, length, tone, etc. please, if you’d like, take part in the challenge! i do look forward to what i know will be AMAZING writing from all you unbelievably talented humans. best of luck!

XXX,

Caroline

"There is a moment in our lives when the people we love the most dissapoint us. When eveyrthing we have known to be true crumbles right before our eyes, faster than the waves crash into a sandcastle. Sure, we may be thirty, eighty, perhaps twenty-six years of age, but when the cold hard truth slams into our face, we find ourselve feeling nine years old again, devestated as our hard work of sweat-begotten hours gets wiped out in mere seconds, with no warning or pity. Sure, we know the water is dangerous and tempremental, that it holds the infinite power we subconcsiouly wish to possess and more. But we build our little homes near their dazzing blue siren calls and bask in the salty, sticky breeze that coats our impatient pats and prods. We whistle softly, humming nonsensical tunes, as we build up these fragile walls and far too many ornate adornments. We giggle in suprise as the cold kisses tease our outstretched feet. And yet, when it all comes crashing down, we are at a loss. Where the hell did we go wrong?

Well if I've learned one thing from my sandcastling, it is simply this: Jake Waldton Miller is a fool. A stupid, sorry fool who thinks he is the only man in this whole entire country who owns a stupid boat and has affairs no one knows about. A stupid, sorry fool whose siren calls have far too many sandcastles brushing their tears and wishing for glimpses of his depths. Well, I have one thing to say: screw you Jake Miller."

Everyone stares in pin-drop silence as this innocent, pink dream spews the last four words with an unfathomed level of venom.

"Oh, and my deepest congratulations to the bride and groom."

They watch, eyes-wide, as the maid of honor, calmly walks down the stairs of the stage. The bride presses a purse into her hands, kissing her softly on the cheek as she steels the tears in her eyes. She squeezes the groom's hand, he softly pressing back as to accept her apology. With that, she continues to storm ahead, eyes focused on the polished doors she must cross over to freedom.

A couple people crowd around the windows to observe her pensive, measured walk to the glitzy boat, a stark, white imprint among the foliage. The gasps, second-hand embarassment, and horror refuse to fade slowly as wedding photographers click the every move she makes. She climbs aboard, steadying her shaking knees, and firmly plants her feet into the upper deck. As the engine revs, she begins to coax out a hidden smile, set to the backdrop of some pleading shout that loses its importance in the grand statures of the towering trees and placid water.

Now, that was some Academy-Award winning performance.

If you are wondering how I appeared on this boat in the water,

Clearly wearing a dress meant for a much different setting,

Then it all begins with a necessary little fact,

That is that this story is certainly interesting.

I originally was going to a formal ball,

I was supposed to be entertaining those around,

Not as the guest of honor mind you,

But simply as one of the family members honor bound.

I had to attend, make no mistake,

My family would have killed me if I had skipped,

I would have been disowned and banished without a trace,

But they never said I couldn't leave early to give my toes a dip.

Those shoes are uncomfortable,

Much like the idle chatting and dancing,

With gossiping and judgement,

I much preferred walking barefoot in the woods and prancing.

As fate would have it I was caught on my run,

By none other than a famous bachelor and rich son.

Embarrasment hidden down deep I confronted the man,

And told him where he could shove it if he interrupted my fun.

Rather surprisingly he joined in,

And we both escaped society for a while,

But soon the sun was sailing across the sky,

And he had to return back inside with pretend guile.

Soon my family trying to find me a man noticed my absence,

And the subtle search for their plans began,

While I planned my complete escape,

Being watched by the amused man.

I found a rowboat nearby and quickly climbed on,

I beseeched the single man to not reveal my spot (my chastisty was at stake)

And he said for a kiss that would be fine,

When I blushed and hissed no, he pushed the boat onto the lake.

So that is how I got here onto this lake,

And how my brother caught a memorable picture of me,

But despite the trauma I am grateful the image was saved,

Since that was the day I met my future husband, Lee.

La vida es una delicia.

Life is a delight.

Oh feliz dia para cantar con mis niños.

Oh what a happy day it is

to sing with my children

De la noche al dia.

From night to day

Al esperar no me encuentro,

While waiting I can't find myself

pero la vida es mi amor

This life is my love

No siento el dolor este dia

I don't feel pain this day

With no breath, but my heart springs out

Born from warm sunshine,

I let loose my heart

Oh this love I have,

I express through happy strings

and illuminate even the murky swamp

Coloring the skies

and singing with my children

Behold my beauty

Stand tall with me

You are not alone