2 a.m.

Below is my entry to Poppy's January Prompts challenge. Here is her link, if you would like to join in:

There are five words/prompts given with instruction to write a poem using one or multiple of the listed prompts. I decided to go with all five.

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In the 2 a.m. silence,

the comforting security of a patchwork quilt

warms her soul and fills her dreams,

while babushka dolls nest on the shelf beside a vase of dandelions,

picked tenderly from the valley beyond the hills.

Dandelions. Her favourite.

Not the sunflowers that paint the quilt.

Not the magnolias or the peonies or even the sweetest smelling lilacs,

but the dandelions.

The hearty weed with the fluffy halos dancing in the breeze.

Bringers of rebirth. Promisors of comfort.

Angels of strength. Like her.

*

In the wall-papered memories

of the shattered 2 a.m. silence;

below the fragmented shelf

in the shredded room of the ruptured shack,

a patchwork of bullet holes and babushka dolls

lays beside the glass remnants of the broken vase and the burnt floral quilt.

Painted with soot,

and stained of torn sunflowers, magnolias, and peonies;

while yet she lays

in dreams of luscious valleys beyond the hills,

where fields of dandelions with fluffy white halos

still dance in the breeze.