Photo Challange: Poem – Licentia – “Sometimes My Love” #amwriting #poetry 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s photo challenge.

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fineart-photos.tumblr.com

 

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The winds warm and soft, prairie fields sway to and fro

Such chores a woman has, hangs sopping sheets thrown,

Over the clothes line, pinning; they’ll smell like sunshine,

Dried by cool wind tonight, they’ll sway on clothes line.

I’m but a shadow, I pass my sheets humming,

A lonely tune, for my life’s solitude humbling.

I’m only a women, my husband says I’m less,

Bruises left, hands tremble, he gives no respect.

In this backwards world, it’s difficult to say,

How we were in love, how war made him this way.

We used to lie in the sun,  beneath us grain, barley.

Now he says, “Stay inside;” I know him now hardly.

The winds warm and soft, prairie fields sway to and fro, 

Such chores a woman has, hangs sopping sheets thrown. 
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There once was a dance, that took place in time

Soldiers came, handsome in crisp uniform’s shine.

Caught girls’ eyes; they wore rouge, lipstick, their best gowns.

Swing music played, we danced, eyes caught mine, brown.

Laughter in chocolate gaze, “Get her a drink, eh?”

Night passed slowly, dipping me, we kissed and swayed.

We meant up again, and again, dreaming life,

One we shared; us blossomed –there’s always a price.

We both suffered strongly, fools were we of war,

Injured men, maimed men, limbs lost, minds lost, sore.

The winds warm and soft, prairie fields sway to and fro

Such chores a woman has, hangs sopping sheets thrown.

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War would end, countless unknown dead; you crumbled

So lost; letters sent, none returned, war humbles

You couldn’t handle what you’d seen and did, came home,

Ran to you, you held me close, cried so much, roamed –

Town, as other’s alive, –ghosts of war haunting,

We bought the farm, your vengeance rose, me you taunt.

By your past demons, by your bruising punch and yet,

They’re times you are you, before war changed you, set —

Course for man, so angry at life, he curses well —

His wife; sometimes he’s my love, other’s my hell.

The winds warm and soft, prairie fields sway to and fro,

Such chores a woman has, hangs sopping sheets thrown.

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“The Licentia Rhyme Form, a poetic form created by Laura Lamarca, consists of at least three – 12-line stanzas with 11 syllables per line. Of course, the poem can be elongated adding on to the following rhyme scheme: aabbccddeeAA, BBffgghhiiAA, CCjjkkllmmAA. The Licentia Rhyme Form is named after Laura Lamarca’s signature, “La” and “Licentia” is Latin for “Freedom”.” – Shadow Poetry

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I’m not sure if this is completely right for the form. I think lines ‘bb’ for instance are supposed to be exactly repeated in lines ‘BB,’ not just rhyme with them. The same for lines ‘cc’ and ‘CC’ etc… But I like the poem like this right now!

Please see Shadow Poetry for more information.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

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3Line Tales – The Luxury of Colour


Thanks to Sonya from Only 100 Words for hosting the 3LineTales Challenge.

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Liam Desic
 
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1.Flags fluttering multicolour and multicultural in the breeze; there is a feeling of hope in the air for refugees coming to this country to escape terrorism and a terrible life in their home countries; so many have come seeking a new life and to escape the horror that was life back where they were from; many people wonder at the luxuries afforded in the western world, even the multicoloured flags seem extravagent, yet strangely exciting.

2. Jas looks at all the colourful bright flags with ecstatic joy; wearing bright colours where he lives means you are more likely to get shot; Jas feels the warm fleece of his red sweatshirt and grins, he loves the colour red, the colour of hope, life, and love; Jas loves all the colours of the flags, he wants clothing in every colour because in this country he is free — no one will kill him for his love of freedom and vibrancy.

3. A woman with a hijab stares up at the flags, all in primary and secondary colours. Where she is from the women wear black, the coloured flags are bright for her eyes but she is quickly growing used to their beautiful rainbow look as they flap like clothing on a clothes line; the woman fingers her hijab wondering if Allah would be upset if she wore a hijab in a jewel blue, or lapis luzia blue; she doesn’t say her thought aloud but the amount  of colour in this new country is making her dream and hope, if only for the luxury to wear blue.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.