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Music Challenge: Poem – Wrapped Refrain (2) – “Those Pink Sunglasses” #dverse #poetry #musicchallenge 


Thanks to Lillian of #dVerse Poet’s Pub for the September 12, 2017 prompt onto use the words rain, reign, rein in a poem. Also combining this prompt with MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie last Music Challenge with the song “Pink Sunglasses” by Miranda Lambert. Going for the triple threat with Bjorn’s Bjorn’s #dVerse Poet’s Pub prompt on using an extended, well known metaphor without “like” or “as.” I’m going to pick up on Miranda Lambert’s metaphor of “pink sunglasses” which I think very much overlaps with wearing “rose colored glasses.” 

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Credit: Pinterest.com

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Miranda Lambert “Pink Sunglasses” 

——

Rein in your white horses, the Queen of Pink’s going to reign 

She’s pretty classy, kind of sassy, in a bubblegum way. 

All around her is dreary pain, 

She doesn’t blink or feel the rain

Pouring down, plastering her —

See-through t-shirt, guys inferring, 

More than needs saying about her — bright pink sunglasses worn, 

Her way to see the world, the old rose glasses cracked, ignored. 

——

Pink is so much better, forget about rainy weather, 

Giggle, leave behind the tragic, drink pink champagne whether —

You’re sad or too glad, pink masks —

Ironies, truth is, life is glass

It shatters far too easily, 

Rose lenses dimmed as pink’s appeased. 

Cause you can buy plastic pink sunglasses to view the world, 

For $9.99 they’re so easy to replace, cheap pearls. 

——-

Appearing in my pocket when I go anywhere ’cause —

There’s power in plastic pink shades, curing the bad that was. 

Put them on when people are mad, 

Wear them when you’re feeling quite sad. 

Ignore naysayers without the pink, 

Bringing rude negative thinking. 

These pink babies don’t shatter or crack, if they do buy more —

Best placebo I’ve had while out loving life exploring. 

—–

Don’t care about the truth, reality is annoying

I’ll pass by you dancing ’cause without pink, life quickly destroys. 

Addicted to living with thick —

Sweet sugar coating of plastic. 

Through the pink I see what I want, 

And I do whatever and I flaunt. 

Rose glasses go away, pink is brighter, it doesn’t fade, 

My shades, wearing them I reign unafraid, I’ve got it made 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Current Events, dVerse, Memories/Childhood, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Nonfiction, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Quadrille - 44 Words, Writing, Writing Challenges

Writing Prompt: Poem – Quadrille – “Sounds of Sleep” #amwriting #poetry #dVerse 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for Writing Prompt #218 on night sounds. 

Also, I’m combining the prompt with #dVerse WhimsyGhizmo Poet’s Pub Quadrille Prompt on freefalling. 

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Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie
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Plush, toasty, 

Huddled mass, 

Bedsheets cotton crumpled, 

Furnace’s ember glows. 

Sky clouds, 

Dreamy veil. 

Screeching cars,
Transposed. 

Train whistles,

Downy soft knit throws,

Tangled knots. 

Nightmares, quandaries, 

Thunder roars,

Rain lashes out, 

Dishes clinked,

Crickets laughing. 

Duck tapped silence, 

Drifting — no wings, 

Lethargic before, 

Free-falling awake. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Actor/ Actress, Children/YA/Family, Current Events, dVerse, Fiction, Free Verse, Memories/Childhood, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, Movie Reviews, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Tale Weaver: Poem – Free Verse – “Super Women” #poetry #amwriting #taleweavers #dVerse 


Thanks to Michael of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Tale Weaver Prompt #135 in Princess Charming, a female heroine saving Prince Charming. Also, thanks to Grace of Poet’s Pub for hosting open link night. 

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Credit: Google for Reuse

——–

They say that, 

Real heros have capes, tights;

Uniforms and Bat lights. 
They shoot webs, 
Like spiders but from, 

Their palms. 

Flying and leaping, 

Over tall buildings. 

Their technology is —

Top of the line. 

They’re stoic, tough, 

Bantering, 

Male bonding and showmanship.

Strong shields guard,  

Robatic armour too. 

Glowing hearts of uranium, 

And flying suits. 

Hands pulsing lasors. 

With green hoods, 

Piercing arrows. 

Strength that’s incalculable

They’re ages old, 

Hundreds or Thousands. 

There human or from, 

Other dimensions, worlds. 

Becoming angry, 

Mean and green. 
Are blinded but powerful. 

Yet few will notice, 

Female superheroes, 

Their tough outer layers. 
They’ve a solid insistence, 

For the good of mankind. 

They sacrifice as a —

Black Widow or a mutant, 

Causing storms. 

The Mockingbird or a Scarlet Witch.

The Wolverine’s friend, Rogue. 

Women know, 

How being gentle, 

Is as mighty as Thor’s hammer. 

How sensitivity with honed, 

Physical skills, 

Has an authentic glory. 

Not understanding, 

Why men keep warring. 

Even though —

They know they must. 

So, they do too, 

Wonder Womans and —  

Super girls, 

Their skirts shorter. 

Slipping into —

Dark corners, 

To hide their tears;

Heroic tears 

As in a man’s world —

Most men don’t recognize, 

The first Wonder Woman, 

In their life, 

Gave birth to them. 

Nurtured them, 

Their superpowers hidden, 

To be the best — 

Moms. 

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Octain Refrain/Double/High - Abbac/cabA Abbad/dabA, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Writing Prompt: Poem – Octaine Refrain – “Sweet Peaches” #amwriting #poetry 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for writing prompt #217. I have chosen to use the topic a walk in the forest, the male nam Uyeno, the female name Ulestra, the fruit a peach, the color cerise, and the sensation shiver

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Credit: Ian Baldwin via Unsplash

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Wondering in the forest, found sweet peaches

Away from the brilliant lights, the gasoline —

Cars running down pedestrians unseen. 

Away from advertising, such harsh cries —

Selling products, various foods tendered. 

My pockets are full and I’ve my own splendour. 

I, Ulestra, have what I need supplied.    

I don’t want to bicker with faceless vendors, 

Wondering in the forest, found sweet peaches

Wonderimgin the forest, found sweet peaches

I’ve no love but for what nature she brings, 

Other days I’ll shop, enjoy frivolties. 

Those who want my peaches they come to me,

Cerise and sunrise peaches for a fee. 

My massive dog, Uyeno, stops thieves’ sting. 

Loud barks, I shiver but I’m safe rendered. 

Wondering in the forest, found sweet peaches

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Animals/Pets, Beauty, Fashion, Fiction, Food/Recipes, Health, Lune - 5,3,5 or 5 words, 3 words, 5 words, Memories/Childhood, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Tale Weavers Fiction/Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Tale Weaver: Poem – Lunes – “A Day Shopping” #taleweavers #poetry #shopping #amwriting 


Thanks to Michael of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting August 26, 2017 Tale Weaver prompt on shopping

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Shopping Loudge Unsplash
Credit: Loudge via Unsplash

——–

Much is proffered buying, selling —

Various types clothing, 

Makeup, perfume, jewelry, and scarves.

——-

If the price’s too rich, 

We’ll window shop, 

Try on Channel, Dior, anyways. 

——-

Perhaps we’ll wait until they’re —

Sales in stores, 

We can afford buying from.

——–

Buy what we love quality and —

Better priced, classic —

Natural fabrics, Aubrey Hepburn styles. 

—–

Maybe we’ll test perfumes floral, 

On papers, wrists, 

Apply thirty facial highlighters glimmering.

—–

Perhaps we’ll find the right —

Shade, skintone for —

Foundation that’s wonderful, covers perfectly. 

——

Maybe we’ll smother ourselves in —

Silk scarves with —

Rainbow colours; every size, shape. 

—-

Trying on high heels our —

Legs appearing long, 

Gorgeous, aching feet all night. 

—–

What about something delicate, silken —

To sleep in;

Matching five-inch Jimmy Choos. 

—–

Silk blue sweaters, wool coats, 

Little black dresses —

Hugging curves; cotton-stretch v-necks,

——-

Knee-high leather boots winter’s —

Calling; gold sandals —

For summer’s heat, beach vacation. 

——

Rose-gold necklaces polished, tangled, 

Pearls rings gleaming; 

Nail polish, pink blush, lipsticks —

—-

Matte or moisturizing, sparkling, holographed. 

Moisturizer, anti-aging —

Serums with Retinol, Vitamin whatever. 

—–

How about we stop driving —

Home; explore the —

Market, pet the dogs, purchase —

—–

Crisp baby carrots, fresh corn.

Peaches and cherries; 

Blushing nectarines, just-picked raspberries. 

—–

Homemade wine, high alcohol content —

Breath in reds, 

Touch of tartness, sweet white —

—-

Rieslings; homemade tequila or moonshine, 

Slushy strawberry margaritas. 

Apple-pies warm, mince-meat pie —

—–

For Dad; with shortbread that —

Melts slowly on,

Our tongue, gourmet chocolate gelato. 

—–

Dog treats for ‘good dogs,’ 

Organic peanut butter —

Grandma’s homemade raspberry jelly too. 

——

How about honey straight from —

Bee hives dripping, 

Into hot tea at night.

——-

They’re various heavenly delights,

But only so —

Much money in our pockets. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, Music and Performers, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Octelle - aa/bb/cc/aa - 88/77/77/88 syllables, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Photo Challenge/ Saturday Mix: Poem – Octelles – “Never Broken” #amwriting #photochallenge #poetry #saturdaymix 


Thanks to NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last week’s photo challenge. Thanks also to Teresa for hosting Saturday Mix on August 26, 2017 on the theme of storms.

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Credit: Barbara Florcyzk

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(“Not Broken” – Sarah Ross – no lyrics of video available but bases for the poem).

——–

You hit me with iron fists, no time to pause; 

You hit me hard, but I’ve wicked claws. 

Keep firing the bullets but my heart’s ice,

Teflone protects from apathetic spite. 

Try to flee, escape being so involved.  

Your rafts near the edge, your facing the falls. 

I’m here still, wrapped safely in healing gauze,

Bandaged wounds, not broken yet but so appalled. 

——

You’re a fake, soulless, not a person, symbolic —

Of times that ache you snidely taunted, grinned, 

Thinking you’ve shattered me but I’ve broad wings, 

I’m not afraid though shots ring and fists swing. 

I punch hard, I’ve come this far, I’m not broken

So laugh — guffaw, fist’s raw, first shot’s token. 

My knuckles are torn and eyes narrowed slits, 

You aim low, for you I’m not nostalgic. 

—-

You give and you take, pain you’ll not revoke, 

I smiled told you once more — I’m still not broken

Brass knuckles glint in daylight’s warmth, 

Think the light fools me? Im trained well to swarm

Push back tough kick against ominious storm

I won’t drown, I swim, even when life’s deformed. 

You hit me hard, I’ve come so far, not joking, 

Words flying fast shouting, “I’m not broken.”

——

Rain pours strong, the river’s harsh pull has might; 

Life’s a struggle, I’ve swam this far, I’m feisty. 

You hit me hard, I’ll hit back; swollen lips, 

Fists raised, not broken since our final kiss.

You’ll not shake my wings in flight, or tear them, 

My feathers eagles gifted, they won’t rend

When they’re ruffled, mussed, my wings hold on strong, 

Natural elegance never broken long. 

—–

You struck me hard, watched me fall, gave bruises, 

In the end, you’re the dunce who is confused.  

I’ve come this far, I’ve the light of lights

His candle guiding me now as I write. 

I’d fight physically but words have more bite —

I’m not broken, words all true, my respite. 

You try to force your rule, your edicts fire lights. 

I’m not broken, when I must I’ll fight. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Current Events, dVerse, Fiction, Friday Music Prompt, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, Music and Performers, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Quadrille - 44 Words, Relationship, Writing, Writing Challenges

Music Prompt #10: Poem – Quadrille – “Memories of Red” #poetry #dVerse #musicchallenge #TaylorSwift


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for the music prompt challenged based on Taylor Swift’s songRed” from her album Red. I’m combining this with Born of Poet’s Pub #dVerse Quadrille poem on bliss. 

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Sam Burris Red Love
Credit: Sam Burris via Unsplash

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“Red” by Taylor Swift

——

Souls fused, 

Luminous Rouge. 

Nos coeurs, 

Gleam as one. 

Connection pulsing. 

Palms grasped tight. 

Bliss, serenity, 

Passion never replete. 

Forever yearning, 

Skin caressed. 

Conversations ’till dawn. 

Before sultry bodies meld. 

Passionate sins, 

Red cinders. 
Cold words, 
Haunting gray, 

Your stone heart, 

Sculpted of ice.

 Yet Red love, 

Throbs in —

Stomach’s hollowness, 

Hearts stabbing. 

Memories,

Blood Red. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fairy Tale Themed, Fiction, Finish Off Fridays/Saturday Mix FlashFiction, Memories/Childhood, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Saturday Mix/ Writing Prompt: Poem – The Garden’s Bloom  #amwriting #fiction #saturdaymix 


Thanks to Teresa of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Saturday Mix Prompt of a garden that I’m combining with the MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie prompt for Sunday, It’s All in The Title. I have chosen the theme of moonbeams. 

Also on a totally unrelated topic, check out Why Erotic Matters? on a guest post in Kristen Lamb’s blog. She has so many amazing and helpful posts for writers. So follow her and if you’re romance kind of writer this article is perfect for you! 

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Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Sunday Writing Prompt

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Most children do not come into this world as the child named Alize did. She was sparked into being on a quiet night a town know one knows the name of. The town was filled with judgements people. It was rigid old-fashioned place where people easily frowned and found the worst in each other. 

The waning silver crescent moon was supposed to reveal her thin form that night, but a Gardener named Tarise, had been praying for years for a daughter. She whispered her prayers in hushed tones, so nosy neighbours outside of her thin cottage walls would not taunt her. Many a person in the town would laugh at her wishes for a child. They knew as Tarise knew, she was barren and no medical or naturopathic cure would aid Tarise; especially since two husbands had, in the town’s opinion, rightfully divorced her because she couldn’t have a child. 

But still Tarise prayed each night; she had faith. 

It was a surprise when the waning moon did not show that night in an almost starless sky. Instead around midnight, a blazing     orange moon, round and full, heard the prayers of the Gardener. Luna felt empathy for Tarise and her sorrows. She quickly waxed to become a full bright-moon only for that night, to answer the young woman’s pleas. After this night she would return to her waning state. 

The moon whispered mystical words in a seance with Mother Nature. She paused in her pregnant state, murmuring incantations with nature in a language time has forgotten. Luna’s magic with Mother Nature’s blessing planted giant green seeds in Tarise’s garden. Then the moonbeams faded into dawns tangerine and azure sky. 

Although the seeds the moon and Mother Nature planted, were buried deep beneath the earth, the seeds sparkled and began glowing once planted. Their glimmering verte light was present in the day as Tarise worked in her verdant garden. They were particularly visible at night when the sky’s were ink black but for the silver sliver of the moon and the stars distant glimmers. 

One night the Gardener could not sleep. She kept tossing and turning unsure what was bothering her peaceful rest. She went outside towards the glittering seeds in her garden as she had most nights since the shining green seeds first appeared. Tarise was baffled as she was every night, by the intense greenish-light. 

She carefully walked through her garden on a stone path she knew by heart, then stopped and stared at the seeds, noticing they had risen above the ground and that vines and leaves protected a small round sac. She realized the giant pod was responsible for the shimmering green luminiesnce in her garden whatever the time of day. 

The town’s people who walked by her cottage gave her harsh words when they noticed this light, calling her witch. However, she quickly explained it was special garden lighting. Not being extremely educated or practical, many of the town’s people believed Tarise’s lie or walked away giving her their usual perturbed gaze. 

 The Gardener wisely left the seeds in her backyard to bloom, anxious to see what the pod would become. It was her habit to go outside in the middle of night for hours to perceive what changes had occurred to the sac increasing in size. 

In the day the pod was completely obscured by vines, roots, and leaves. But on one specific night, the pod had risen from the ground even higher, supported by thick roots. The vines and leaves had left most of the pod uncovered to absorb the moon’s radiant light. Tarise realized it was mainly the moonlight that caused the pod to flourish. 

She stepped nearer to the pod, stroking it’s transculent outside layer that she knew was hard as a diamond. At the same time, the pods outside was incredibly soft, covered in small hairs that were akin to rabbits fur. To the Gardner’s surprise and joy she saw a small child, a fetus forming within the pod. Up close, and in the pods glowing light, the baby’s details were clear. The pod served as a giant womb. 

Moreover, the shell was transparent enough that Tarise could stretch her hands to to touch the baby’s tiny fists and feet through the sac. She stood transfixed as the fetus kicked and turned. Tears dripped from Tarise’s tired eyes. She knew her prayers had been answered. Her wish for a daughter had come true and somehow God had blessed her with a baby from nature’s own womb since her own womb could not conceive. 

Every night Tarise spent more hours watching her daughter grow in the transculeng pod. In the day, the baby was hidden by fiolage, but at night, as the months passed by, the Gardener cared for her child the only way she knew how. She cared for her as she would with any of the plants in her gardens and flower beds.

 She watered the pod twice each night noticing how thirsty it was sucking up the moisture. She fertilized around the pods roots, to aid the baby’s growth anyway she knew how. She also researched and read her Grandmother’s old journals on gardening full of superstitious rituals to safely make plants grow. 

The Gardener chose the name Alize for her daughter and one night as Talise sat observing the pod a giant cracked formed and the tiny cries of her daughter could be heard. Tarise jumped for joy and waited anxiously as the podsplit open and Alize was born, a perfect baby covered in aloe and plant juices. She could tell by the scent, that aloe was the key ingredient. The roots cradled the baby who had slid out and Tarise picked her up to calm her wails. 

Alize had bright emerald eyes and a great deal of matted strawberry blond hair. Her eyes were odd for a child just born, but Tarise didn’t care if her daughter was similar to every other newborn. Alize was both wonderous and healthy and the plant she was birthed from continued to feed Alize when the Gardner took her outside three times each night. 

The night she was born, Tarise gently washed the baby in plant-based babywash and softly rubbed her matted strawberry hair until it was clean. She covered Alize with cashmere blankets swaddling her as she slept nearby in a bassinet, next to Tarise’s bed. 

As well, Alize was a deep sleeper. She quickly bloomed and grew into a typical human child. Her green hued skin faded when she refused to continue sucking on the pod’s juices for sustence. She easily began eating fruits and cooked vegetables, ones that were soft or blended until Alize had teeth and began to eat whatever the Gardener ate herself. 

Tarise smiled as her beautiful girl as she became a toddler with auburn-hued hair. Her cherubic cheeks and her wonderful laugh were all Tarise needed to feel elated. Alize’s miniature beauty was astonishing and the color of her hair had also been the color of Tarise’s last ex-husband’s hair. This meant the town’s people couldn’t accuse her of adultery or having loose morals. Instead, they ran her ex-husband out of town with his new wife, for leaving his pregnant ex-wife for false reasons. 

As a child, Alize had a great adoration for things both grotesque and lovely. She loved wriggling worms in dirt but also caring for plants such as her prized bright purple orchids. The Gardener fashioned Alize a doll from her favorite movie, “The Nightmare Before Christmas.” She loved the doll and never left anywhere without it until she was at least twelve years old.

Alize continued to grow, both in beauty and knowledge of caring for plants and nature. Tarise taught Balize well how to make tflowers blossom and not to water them too often. Tarise taught her not to let plants burn in the sun or wither in frost. What the girl didn’t discover herself about greenery and flowers, Tarise tirelessly shared. She taught Alize to read and write so she could buy and borrow books learning more about gardens, herbs, and botany. Alize eventually knew more than Tarise herself and even the knowledge from that Tarise’s Grandmother’s journals taught. 

They both planted and tilled and worked their hands raw, until one day Alize and her mother created what they called their own Eden. However, a gate of hedges mysteriously formed at front of the garden, a gate they hadn’t planted there. Once Alize and the Gardener entered their ideal garden and saw with awe that truly what they’d been driven to make was paradise, they never returned home. Both Alize and her mother disappeared into the garden, past the gates, never to be seen again. 

Charming Alize and the wise Gardner, Tarise, were both blessed by the moon and nature. Luna gave them both an eternity in paradise. Such magic is available to all those who hope and search forever first. And hope as we all know, springs eternal. 
——–
©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

dVerse, Fairy Tale Themed, Fiction, History, Memories/Childhood, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, Music and Performers, My Thoughts, Nature, Nonfiction, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Quadrille - 44 Words, Tale Weavers Fiction/Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Tale Weavers: Poem – Quadrille – “Knock on Wood” #amwriting #poetry #dVerse #taleweavers 


Thanks to Lorraine of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting her last Tale Weavers Prompt. Bravo Lorraine you will be missed. Her prompt theme is superstitions. I’m combining this prompt with Bodhirose from Poet’s Pub #dVerse open link night. 

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Credit: Patrick Fore via UnSplash

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Knock on wood,

What if the expected —

Won’t be? 

Knock on wood,

Vulgar spirits disperse, 

Snake slither down. 

Knock on wood, 

We’re all superstitious, 

Chase back wickedness. 

Knock on wood, 

So, life remains sweet. 

Knock on wood, 

Never laugh at the Fates, 

Your string’s taut. 

Knock on wood, 

As did our — 

Grandparents of old.  

—–

The Impression That I Get” – The Mighty Mighty Bosstones 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Animals/Pets, Fairy Tale Themed, Fiction, Finish Off Fridays/Saturday Mix FlashFiction, Lune - 5,3,5 or 5 words, 3 words, 5 words, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Saturday Mix/ Photo Challenge: Poem – Lunes – “The Raven’s Kaw” #poetry #saturdaymix #photochallenge


Thanks to Teresa of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting the prompt on flashbacks. And also thanks to NENEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menageriefor hosting this week’s Photo Challenge. 

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Credit: Laura Makabesku

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Such blackness here, wild fears, 

Cannot be helped;

Once I paused, and saw —

——-

His Raven eyes spellbinding me.

Tapping the window, 

Glass shattering, I’m breathless

——-

Bedroom door locked, all asleep —

But for I, 

Raven kaws, advances towards me.

—–

I’m prey, what he desires, 

Shapeshifting bird becomes —

Enchanting man, tapping tappered fingers. 

—–

“Stop playing games and come away,” 

But in my —

Dreams of week’s before I —

——

Dreamt the Raven ripped out —

My throat raw; 

I became his dark companion.

—–

Life was grand but I —

Lost myself, 

In him; was loved but —

——

Destined for a fate I —

Scarce imagined with —

No place of my own. 

—-

When his world became too —

Much, I required —

Thinking space, some breathing room. 

——-

So when the Raven man, 

Of my dreams, 

Arrived — I knew him well. 

—-

And while he stared with —

Fascination at my, 

Coffee eyes purple-bruised, I —

——

Begged, if he was going —

To love me; 

I required a quiet space. 

—–

I couldn’t be his mistress, 

His everything without —

“A room of [my] own.” *

—–

Without, I couldn’t function well, 

And soar with –

Him at night; unless he —

——-

Promised to stay outside my —

Head, my. mind, 

And leave my thoughts alone.  

——-

We both needed some privacy. 

So with shiny, 

Wings bold we together flew. 

——

Before our flight, he gifted —

Mint-sapphire ring,

Binding us both in our —

—–

Promises — me that I had, 

Quiet space; he —

That I was his companion;

——-

His forever mate; loved well —

Our life together,

Shapeshifters seek dawn — Ravens night. 

——–

*Virginia Woolf – A Room of Her Own 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.