The first blossom
On my winter squash
Lacking a male,
She will fade,
And her fruit will fail.
Still, she opens in beauty
Under the sun
And offers her grace
To the day.
So too may we all;
And that is quite enough.
Casey Laine comes from a long line of talkative women. She works as Fantasy Editor at Cosmic Roots and Eldritch Shores, and publishes an annual anthology of fiction and poetry for her writing group, Writers Assembled. In her spare time, she chases butterflies with her camera. Find her at Facebook, Cosmic Roots and Eldritch Shores, and Amazon.
The girl stood in the garden, staring at the strange red flower growing from the white rosebush. As she reached to pick it, its petals uncurled into wings and two small black eyes stared back.
The creature took off and disappeared into a nearby rosebush.
She laughed and chased after.
Sophia Netterfield is a university student studying Psychology because brains are bizarre.
This was the first spring Ruth had visited the bluebell fields with her four-year-old, Sophie. Her thoughts drifted to her own first visit when she stood on the beautiful carpet of purple and blue.
Sophie ran towards her holding a single flower. “Mummy, it’s wonderful, but this bluebell doesn’t ring!”
John B Sinclair is a much-travelled Scot who has now returned to Scotland, where he enjoys freelance writing on a variety of subjects.