20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers

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I shuffle and squirm in bed, worn out from another difficult day. I’ve tried everything, reading, watching TV listening to soft music, nothing works.

Suddenly, I her the wind pick up and blow against my screen. A spatter of rain taps quietly n my roof. Lightening and thunder rumble far away. For a moment, the rain falls in torrents, then settles into a peaceful song. Nature’s lullaby.

Before I know it, my reddened eyes start to blink. My mind goes blank, my heart slows to a quiet rhythm. The soft breathing of my cat blends with the gentleness of a warm summer rain.

Soon, I am asleep. The rain has does its trick. Nature has helped me get a much-needed rest. I wake up, a bit surprised that it is morning. Somehow, that is alright, I feel refreshed.

Thank you rain for your blessing.

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Earth Songs

In early morning earth tunes up its harp.
Emerging from the flat dark night, the sharp
shrill bird songs call me from my silent sleep
where I in cottoned quiet cannot keep

my consciousness awake. I spiral down
to places where my dream becomes my town.
I star in my own movie, watch the flow
of action, but then with the morning’s glow

remember nothing. Now the flutes sing tunes
and I come into wakefulness. Day croons
its melodies from sunrise into bright
surprises. Could these gifts have come from night?


I hide within a quilt…

I hide within a quilt

gazing at the ceiling

pondering over things

and finally, getting tortured

by my conflicting thoughts-

the night goes on

and I  succumb to sleep

with no dreams.


If I Had Not Had Epilepsy

Our lives would look so different,
but I can’t say how
because all the years of our marriage
a third entity has been present.
We call it “E.”
Affecting what we do and how we travel,
what I can consume, the very hours I must sleep,
we become contortionists with the best-laid plans,
rubber-banding them into relaxation
to avoid a hit.
Hyper-vigilant, en garde our constant cry, we stay alert to warning signs
of fluttering eyes, mumbled words, stilted gait.
When they appear my knight rides in and does battle…

5 Liners – A Round



Thinking machine

Not working today.

Busy week end, tired.




Refresh me.

Not working today.

Too much to do.




Exhibition coming.

Not working today.

Running around in circles.




Do nothing?

Not working today?

Need off switch for





Alone, a quiet house and solitude
pull quilts of cotton underneath my chin
and give a thoughtful nod to settled mood.

When chronic illness screams with constant din
I hold up hands against my ears to keep
out all the noise. Like planets as they spin,

I find myself in orbit, feel strength seep
away. I note, Remember to take care
of you.
For now that means that I must sleep.


The Fragrance of the Pouring Rain

The musky fragrance of the pouring rain, 

The background, very dim and light,

In itself produces a silent lullaby,

Sending me into the islands of the sleep,

Where I’m not asleep,

But still not awake,

My consciousness, though, remains intact,

And feel the surroundings in a new way,

Oh the fragrance of the pouring rain,

Which sneaks out of the sandy terrain,

I feel good for once at least when it rains,

It feels good when it rains.


Pat’s Challenge Of Concise Writing

I remember the days, though faintly, I remember the voice, soothing, of my mother singing to me, the lullaby to make me fall asleep. Being the youngest one and the last one to join the family, I was the star of everyone’s eyes. I don’t remember so clearly, but I see through my inner-eyes the scene of my mother cradling me in her arms or walking with me holding my hands, singing the lullaby to me. It was always about something to cheer me up to grow and be successful. I know them all by heart which have been told to me time and again by my family. Now I remember the time when I was 11 or 12, a no-longer child pleading my sister to sing the same lullaby to me so that I could feel that time how I must have felt when I was a small child.                      (150 words)


I remember faintly the days of my childhood when I would fall asleep by the sweet lullaby, about something to cheer me up to grow and be successful, being sung to me by mother. Being the youngest one in the family, I was a star in myself. I remember the lullaby by heart. I also remember the time when I was 12 asking my sister to sing the lullaby to me so that I can cherish the feeling I had once experienced.            (82 words)


I remember my childhood and my 12th year listening to the lullaby, the latter one for getting childhood experience again.                                (20 words)





It’s late and I’m lost in my thoughts once again

Drifting into a mist filled sleep

From the distance I hear my name called

Following but never able to reach

A  familiar voice I’ve heard before that comforts when in need

Yet somehow I forget the face

Oh sleep and dreams the games you play

How cruel to tease and taunt

You offer the hearts most cherished desire

Not wholly but in pieces

Let time mend this heart and soulBefore you have your way

Allow the bittersweet memories to fade

And the silence to be broken

Let me start a new life, yes a new life

Close this chapter for a new journey.



The miracle of the night,

Its darkness, so bright.

I am immersed in the shine,

My desire being my whine.

This night is different,

As its affect is so vibrant.

I want to glow this night,

Even if it is not right.

This night is seductive,

As well as obstructive,

Towards the deals I have for tomorrow,

But if I sleep, I would go into deep sorrow.

I want to live this night,

This night so bright.


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