I just wanted to share my latest extension of 100 word prose

The wanton breeze, blowing fickle. Flickering candle flames and tendrils of loose hair. Making me long to fly once again. Da Vinci had it right. I lift my arms, showing a graceful pose to the city lights far below and lean far over the cement barrier between me and my love. With only a bit of pain, wings push through and form solid on my back. Beautiful orange, yellow, and purple feathers meld into a soothing golden glow. I gently brush tears from my face with their tips then hold them out proudly for the wind to catch. I fly.

beneath fragile wings
shoulders slumped
as daylight thinned
into the end rancid
days

iridescence floated
downward into slick seas
as feathers clung
to dampen spirit's
evening

gentle hands grasped
her knees as she sat
on cliffside horizons
wings spread to stellar
night

folded about her
bleak last moments
of quills dipt in inks
and dotted with life
mornings

and then will she rise
above blackened weeds
what charred remains
choked her breath
expired

her sacrificed nest
wings oiled with soot
as she spits foul blood
molten reminders
afloat

~jeannie

and here is another...I have Finals this week and need some relief from the endless analytical words. Those cold words that bring no comfort! 100 words on comfort.

Warmth and rain for my flowers mixed in a hurried need to lesson the pollution that is sure to taint, and only I care that my new kitten is suckling his momma's breast regardless of her status as top dog; the feetsy slippers of my newly acquired change of life. Comfort is had in squishy noises that hold no breadth or sustenance; only the shivery, soulless joy of need. Jumping joy, and the calm comfort of normalcy brings my freedom back, and my sense of honesty, for who in the world would ever want a cat? Shhh, here he comes.

Hey, you have a lot to give as an artist, i think. Great stuff. In the begining, I wonder if it would not be better to add a comma:

The wanton breeze, blowing, fickle.

No, forget I said that!! That is not necessary. See, fickle is not an adverb, but you can use it as one, because you have "poetic license."

Jeanie, this is great poetry. I wonder if you have any need for advice, or if you were just sharing. I don't want to mess with them as they are. I like them! Thanks for sharing this, adding a little rhythm and imagery to EssayForum.

Thanks, Kevin! I have a lot of need for advise! This time, however, I was just sharing my babblings. I always know I will like the finished product when I make myself cry (or laugh hysterically) through the entire telling, haha, weird, I know! Some of the other moderators have pointed me toward learning meter because I requested some instruction; I have never taken a poetry class...

I am working on a decent poem with the very basic rules of meter and iambic pentameter, and I will need some advice then, you can be sure! It is all very complicated when you have spent so many years just writing however you want. The above is pretty typical of my "style," if you can call it that.

Thanks again for your kind words!
Blue skies!
Jeannie