Tale Weaver: Poem – San San – “Sunshine Assured” #amwriting #poetry #taleweavers 


Thanks to Michael of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s Tale Weaver prompt which is based on the sunrise which is the “start of a new day, an indicator of the day ahead. [P]ink sunrise can mean a hot day coming, a new start in life, it represent hope and new possibilities.” 

——-

Credit: Morepethroad – Michael

———-

Oh light of hope at this hour dawning

Behind us leaving the dark night dreaming

Dawn swooshes in and the day has purpose.  

Hope our savior never hides as a ‘con.’ 

The night never remains, new day leaning, 

Providing the world, thrilling light concurs. 

Let not night’s dark thoughts in your mind prefer, 

Let hope lead your day, in the sunshine assured

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Advertisements

Saturday Mix Flash Fiction: Soliquey – Blank Verse – “The Con” #amwriting #soliliquey #fiction #SaturdayMix


Thanks to Bastet from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Saturday Mix. This week’s prompt is a soliloquy at a train station. I’ll be using blank verse or unrhymed iambic pentameter as the Bard did. 

—–

“Imagine a scene, a train is pulling out of the station and a person standing on the platform looking dejected. What can have happened. Perhaps this person is someone in the station wishing to leave but for some reason hasn’t. “

——

Credit: GSK 2017

——-

So leaves the train, so leaves my heart, 

Why him I once loved, now I know not? 

Must have been his eyes so brilliant a green, 

Gems such as emeralds, a sea-green storm brewed.

Was it his cavalier smile, his laugh? 

With him I felt wanted, weak in the knees. 

I was his Queen, he my adoring King. 

He cared for me gently, said I shouldn’t stay —

On my own, for he loved me; fooled me, 

Underestimated a woman cruelly scorned. 

I saw cracks in the vase, facade crumbled, 

An artist’s dream of beauty such a fake, 

He left, emptied my pockets of money. 

This con thinks he’s safe going to Bahamas, 

Since he betrayed me, I say differently. 

He’ll be doing some flying, and me thinks he’s done. 
Thrown off the tallest bridge, out of the train. 

Expensive was his end, but I’m appeased

I watched his train moving away, still —

Missing his voice, his touch, time spent loving. 

But I know he never loved me, I was ‘means’ —

To an end; yet, the ‘real end’ was his own. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.