Tale Weavers: Poem – Licentia – “Some Magical World” #amwriting #poetry #taleweavers


Last week’s Tale Weavers prompt was for us to write about a magical place. Thanks to Michael from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting. 

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Credit: Adventures In The Wild

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Place I drift when life hurts, inspiring —

Ethereal dreamscapes adventures beguiling.

A magical place where the grass stands high,

Lush ’round my legs, where Gerber daisies spy.

Tipping towards the sun, technicolor,

Bright, inspiring, blue of sky discover.

A hole in the ground or Wonderland? 

Pixie dust sparkling in my hair, Neverland? 

Is this my own magic kingdom I’ve found? 

Place my mind travels inspired profound.

Place I drift when life hurts, inspiring —

Ethereal dreamscapes adventures beguiling 

——

A magical place where the grass stands high,

Lush ’round my legs, where Gerber daisies spy. 

A hiding place where I often prefer,

Don’t search for me in my valley secure. 

I’m riding raindrops, kissing the sun,

I’ve never had so much freedom or fun. 

Gentlemen here, always decent and sweet, 

A wink in their eye, naughty whispers keep.

They’ll treat a girl well, hold tight if she weeps, 

And if you would like, they’ll love you to sleep. 

Place I drift when life it hurts, inspiring —

Ethereal dreamscapes adventures beguiling.

——

Tipping towards the sun, technicolor,

Bright, inspiring, blue of sky discover.
Gerber daisies everywhere with roses, 

Brilliant vivacity, colors exposed. 

Pixies trailing their dust eternally, 

Wings of lace light night, give hope certainly. 

Everything’s first bloom, so never spurn, 

This place humbles beautiful; with tears yearn

No contacts, surgery needed to peer, 

With clarity of soul, all vision clears. 

Place I drift when life it hurts, inspiring —

Ethereal dreamscapes adventures beguiling 

——-

A hole in the ground or Wonderland? 

Pixie dust sparkling in my hair, Neverland? 
Here is my land, I’m caregiver among —

Faeries with animals exotic, young. 
In their best-years forever, conversing —

Plainly; furry adore cuddles, nothing terse. 

A tiger cub sits by me so befuddled, 

When wolf pup becomes part of our den.

When I cheer because each word I’ve written —

Makes sense; stories flow unrestricted

 A place I drift when life it hurts, inspiring —

Ethereal dreamscapes adventures beguiling 

——

Is this my own magic kingdom I’ve found?

Place my mind travels inspired profound.
A comfortable place where I sit typing, 

Art studio where brush strokes have foresight.

Friends visit often, chocolate’s water

No weight gained, eight squares a day should be sought. 

Parties like Gatsby’s with flapper clothing, 

Each night unique theme, we don’t bemoan. 

As if we’re happy drunk with extra spunk,

Able to keep life in moderation’s trunk. 

A place I drift when life it hurts, inspiring —

Ethereal dreamscapes adventures beguiling.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

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Poem: “Words”


Thanks to the Daily Post for yesterday’s and today’s word prompts Refresh and Voice.

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The right words to write, don’t happen each day,

When you only want to lie on the couch and let,

Each and every word in your head drift away.

It’s not as if what you write has to be set.

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That the lines all have to be one length.

That all lines have to be the correct amount of syllables.

Some days there is no power in your writing voice –no strength,

And your rhyme isn’t on, rhythm too is dribble.

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I write and half-way through I feel a need for a refresh.

Wipe the page clean, type something later when life makes sense.

It isn’t as if life is especially pressing,

It’s only that right now — I don’t make sense.

—–

Maybe life needs to feel refreshing again,

Maybe, your spirit needs to feel alive,

Before you can say exactly, what you mean to gain,

By writing these words down, and to let them thrive.

——

We need only find our writing voice in the everyday world,

Searching for a place we can be heard.

I don’t know why but my thoughts are awhirl,

I’m still searching for the right words.

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

Poem: Ghazal -“Newest Illusion”


A Ghazal is a poem that is made up like an odd numbered chain of couplets, where each couplet is an independent poem. It should be natural to put a comma at the end of the first line. The Ghazal has a refrain of one to three words that repeat, and an inline rhyme that precedes the refrain. Lines 1 and 2, then every second line, has this refrain and inline rhyme, and the last couplet should refer to the authors pen-name… The rhyming scheme is AA bA cA dA eA etc.

Please see Shadow Poetry for further information.

To explain this definition in my poem, ‘illusion’ is my repeating refrain and the word ‘trusting’ is the inline rhyme word that I’m working with in my poem for line A.

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face_black_and_white_optical_illusion
http://www.coolweirdo.com

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Mirage of sensations, not trusting your illusion.

Letting go, letting you in — difficult, just an illusion,

Words swimming in my mind, creatures of the depths in flight,

Begun ‘us,’ place my heart in your hands — I must; illusion.

Images of red, colour offends me from my past life,

Wobbly bridge, cross to you or stuck, you an illusion.

Travelling wisps in the darkness they kiss, ghostly mist.

Implies, in my dreams, I have to risk, not just illusions.

Fantasy helps me escape you’re real, you’re here.

Thoughts unravel typing, wonder must I see illusion?

Confusion alludes to facts, can’t trust my own heart beating so fast.

Around you I find, feeling lust I conclude, you’re illusion.

Days will pass, yesterday is past, don’t relax yet, sublimity.

Thunderstorm forming, anger conforms, rusty old illusion.

Moments they hinder, life from lingering as you drift on by,

Would you be my shelter, find in me hope and trust — illusion.

Our minds whirl, spin, all over the place, seeking a resting place.

Need you to be my peaceful place in life, not just illusion.

Wrapped in your arms, haven of warmth, hearts beating as one,

Didn’t know, what I know now, you’re a must, no illusion.

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

Poem: Minute – These Days


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There are days I cannot stop, I fly —

Hear me I sigh.

Look I’m so sore.

Wait for an encore.

—-

There are waters I cannot swim,

Dip my toes in,

The water is fine.

So I dive in.

—–

My body needs sleep and dreams

Funny how it seems,

I cannot win.

But each day I grin.

—-

The New Year brings so much with it

Can’t catch a drift.

Need to write more

Until my soul soars.

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.