Balroop submitted the first poetic response. I hope you enjoy meeting her muse.
“Welcome home,” I hope your adventures are no longer alluring for you.
“Please don’t close that door,” she sprawled on the couch, hardly paying any attention to my smile.
A cold sweep almost knocked me over, and I closed the door.
“Do you want to asphyxiate me?” She leaped toward the French window to get out into the patio and collapsed on the loveseat.
Teenage tantrums don’t sway me. I buried myself into the murder mystery that was more interesting than her shenanigans.
“I know those thoughts! Don’t mess with me; consider me as your blessing. Don’t try to tie me to your strings.”
I looked up in awe, as she spouted:
(Continue reading: I Can’t be Shackled)