Poem: Lune (5,3,5) – ” Butterflies Don’t Pass” #wordhighjuly


Day 1: July 1 ( Canada Day.)

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Your thoughts are distinctive, 

Eyes crystal blue, 

Noticing everything and seeing truth.

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Your words are ambrosia sweet, 

Delight to taste, 

Chocolate brownies bite by bite.

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Scent of Jasmine on your, 

T-shirt I keep,

Smell of wood, of earth.

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Strong built muscles lift close, 

Skin delicate and, 

Smooth meeting skin of yours.

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Through the senses we absorb,

Each other and, 

Kiling assaults me, tiny terror.

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Years pass, the butterflies don’t, 

I hold our, 

Love; nurture, its growth flourishes.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved

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Three Line Tales: Quotes on Foot Apparel. #3Linetales #quotes


Thank you to Sonya of 100 Words or Less for hosting 3 Line Tales. 

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Rosan Harmend

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1. 

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2. 

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3. 

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Hope you enjoy the quotes. Sorry for the lack of effort on this prompt again this week. I was out with the flu a week and a half. I’m well now but I and am now trying to make up for lost time. Have a great weekend. Happy Canada Day tomorrow July 1 and Happy Independance Day July 4 in the USA 

Poem: Wrapped Refrain – “Swimming Free Will.”


http://www.pinterest.com

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With such wise words do you enquire,

Wandering through the tundra’s fire,

Land, so cold, all remains still ’til, 

Spring thaw arrives and water spills, 

You wisdom baffles me, the cadences confound, 

How you find such stability; the rest of us drown.

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Wisdom, one of those qualities,

Significant to gain, falls —

From some men and women’s, 

Lips, drip, water there to within swim, 

Backstrokes in a pool of magnificence and legends lost, 

Swimming in the minds of the brightest, at what cost? 

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Intelligence it’s an ocean, 

Sea sickness, to much motion.

If you know where our treasure lay, 

Perhaps, that’s knowledge we need save.

There can be utter foolishness in intelligence, 

A smart man might actually notice, avoid his hell.

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Empathy, a kind of wisdom,

Unrepresented, ignored.

Emotional intelligence,

Help souls broken, though lakes swells,

Health, mind, body, rescued from life’s frequent water spills.

With such wise words, emotive know — swimmer’s require free will.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

    

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: An Alternate Universe of the Wizard of Oz.


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

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Storyteller’s Abode

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Dorothy had a wonderful time with the munchkins in their village. She had been celebrated as the killer of the Wicked Witch of the East. The Good Witch Gelinda sent Dorothy down the yellow brick road with the deceased witch’s ruby red slippers adorning Dorothy’s feet. 

The shoes were heels and uncomfortable. Dorothy soon regretted she could not take them off. She was leaning against a fence, resting her feet, when she thought the scarecrow beside her talked.

“What?” Dorothy asked the scarecrow, “Did you say something?”

The scarecrow continued making funny noises which was when Dorothy, a good Catholic, believed the scarecrow was possessed. She decided to burn the scarecrow and the demon out.

Lighting him afire she watched as the scarecrow screeched and fell in the middle of the yellow brick road, blackened hay and cloth all that remained.

Dorothy smiled to herself. Wicked witch of the East, check. Possessed scarecrow, check. Wizard of Oz here I come!

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved

Moral Monday’s Flash Fiction: Tense Driving


Thank you to Nortina for hosting Moral Monday’s prompts. This week’s moral is: ” Finish What You Start.”


mother-daughter-arguing
http://www.goodenoughmother.com

 

“I hate driving with you.” Cassandra told her Mom.

Hope couldn’t help herself. “I’m sorry. You’re a new driver and you make me nervous. I’m nervous when I drive.”

“Well I’m coming up to a left turn, don’t say anything. I don’t need to end up getting hit because you’re distracting me.”

The arguing escalated. Cassandra half-parked the car in front of their house. Hope was upset, she immediately left the car as Cassandra shouted, ” I’m never driving with you again. You can finish parking the damn car too.” The shouting continued; the car started to roll down the street.


©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

Mansions


This story really touched my heart by Megan of an Invisible World. It’s a fitting story for the truth of Christianity, and not what many would believe.

Invisible World

Darkness was the first thing that filled my conscious. Slowly, the darkness faded and light overwhelmed me. A group of shining mansions towered above.  They were made of gold or marble and decorated with amethyst, rubies and other gems.  Even the yards were perfect: neat flowerbeds decorated lawns that were so green they couldn’t have been real.

I knew I was supposed to live in one of the houses in this new place, but I didn’t know which one. The streets were empty except for an elderly lady walking toward me.

“Excuse me,” I called to her, “I’m new here, and I was wondering if you could tell me where my house is.”

“It isn’t in this neighborhood,” she chuckled. “Do you see that house, girl?” She pointed to one on my left sprinkled with emeralds.  “That one belongs to a man and his family who spent their whole life…

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Sunday Photo Fiction:  The Ducking Chair #amwriting #Flashfiction


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.

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A Mixed Bag

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“More old buildings,” Emily complained.”Kill me know, who cares? You’re throwing shade on my life.” 

“Emily,” her mother warned, “I’ve had it up to here with your behaviour on our vacation. You’re sixteen-years-old and this is probably one of the last vacations you’ll take with your family, so suck it up. At least for Trudy.”

Trudy grinned at Emily adoringly. She loved her big sister. 

“Greetings visitors,” A man dressed from the sixteen-hundreds approached the family.” How dost thou like our village?” 

“I hate it,” cried Emily. “If I had superpowers, I’d burn it down.” 

“Art thou a witch?” The man asked Emily.

“More like a b#%*h,” her mom said. “Sorry that just popped out.” 

“Worry not,” said the man winking at Emily’s Mom, “We have ways of dealing with either. We call it a ducking chair. If you survive being drowned girl, than we will know you’re not a witch.” 

“What?” Emily shrieked as two me grabbed her from behind. Taking down the chair they fastened her in to it. The man whispered to Emily’s mother who only grinned. 

“Have thou anything to say?” the man asked. “Before we drown thee?” 

“I hate you, I hate you all.” Then the chair was dunked in the water. 

Emily was scared. It had been a couple of minutes and her lungs were bursting, when the chair was pulled up out if the water.

“Has thou anything to say now?” Asked the man. 

“No nothing,” she screamed, choking up water.

“Very well,” said the man shaking his head. The chair started to move into the water, but she shrieked.

“Okay. I give up. I’m sorry I don’t mean to make this vacation so miserable. I just want to be with my friends this summer. And I hate all the historical stuff we’re seeing, it’s all the same after a while. I don’t mean to be a b$&@h but I have a boyfriend I haven’t seen in four-weeks, and I’m missing all the summer fun my friends are having. I’m afraid my friend Ruth, will seduce my boyfriend.” 

“Ah so the truth comes out. Very well. Thou can go free, but respect thou mother as God himself said.” The man said.

Emily was unbuckled from the chair and soaking wet ran to hug her Mom and Trudy. “I’m so sorry,” she said again.

Overtop of Emily’s head, Emily’s mother smiled her thanks to the actor working in the village. He nodded and grinned.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Free Verse – “Heart Song” #amwriting #poetry


wwwsharinmarieklein.ming.net

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What songs do you sing?

As the evening bell peels, 

What notes make your heart feel real? 

What melody do you go to sleep by? 

The softest and most beautiful voice, 

Singing in your ear, 

A mother to her child, 

Rubbing your cheeks.

What songs do you sing?

As you play your favourite tunes? 

Those remembered from bygone days?

The most popular hits, fantastic or plastic?

What notes invade your mind? 

Parts of a song playing over again, 

Because you love a section so much, 

You could hear it fifty times.

What songs do you sing?

To guide your heart through pain, 

What songs make you heal?

Make you angry and feel used?

Such a brilliance of tunes and melodies exist,

What’s your heart song? 

The one only you and God know,

The most beautiful words, 

Your Grandma used to sing, 

Or your Dad made up for you as a child.

What songs do you sing? 

May they be be sung load and clear, 

For within music we find a soul connection, 

With each and every person alive.

It’s that favourite song on a Saturday night, 

Everyone belts out and sings.

It’s the song of you and your beloved together.

It’s the song as you pass from this life to the next.

What songs do you sing? 

Only you know the vital songs, 

The tunes you won’t forget, 

The ones that tremble out your lips, 

On the brink of death, 

Your heart songs are clear,

In the end let no one ask, 

What songs do you sing? 

For knowing you they will know, 

The melody of your life, your purpose met.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Three Line Tales: Running The Race #3LineTales #quotes


Thank you to Sonya of 100 Words or Less for hosting 3 Line Tales.

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Martins Zemlickis

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Personally, I’m not a runner. I have always hated it. But I know some people such as my Dad for instance, love it. I don’t understand it. Even when I was fit, I much enjoyed the elliptical, skating machine, or an exercise class as compared to running.

 I didn’t mind it so much in volleyball or basketball in high school. I think because we only did so much running, and the rest was practicing skills. Not to mention, for many years of school, I attended schools near the river valley. 

Everybody thinks that is great, but I had allergies, and running through the river trails ended up with me wheezing. 

Anyways, here is three quotes for you runners out there.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Of Guns & Control


A well written/said post on guns and gun control in the US.

Olive These Words

America sure does love its guns. 

Well, some of them don’t, but those are just the bleeding heart liberals that don’t understand the necessity of deadly force when an intruder comes for your loved ones.  Could happen any minute now, so we gotta be prepared. 

The simple, ‘violence begets more violence,’ never crossed anyones mind I guess. 

The issue is complex and I don’t mean to make light.  Many people have lost their lives due to America’s stubborn refusal to take a good hard look at not only why guns are such a problem in the US, but how they became one.

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