Animals/Pets, Books, Children/YA/Family, Fairy Tale Themed, Fiction, History, Italian Sonnet - Iambic Pentameter - Octave (abbaabba) - Sestet (cdcdcd), Memories/Childhood, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Nature, Poetry, Quotes, Tale Weavers Fiction/Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Day 15 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/Tale Weavers: Poem – Italian Sonnets – “Unbirthday Hell En Medias Res” #poetry #NaPoWriMo #AtoZchallenge #taleweavers


Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to write poem in the middle of things en medias res. The A to Z Challenge GoodRead’s Quote is for the letter N. The Tale Weavers Prompt courtesy of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie is to write about an unbirthday. 

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Credit: Not on The HighStreet Enterprises – http://www.notonthehighstreet.com

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I grew up in this town, my poetry was born between the hill and the river, it took its voice from the rain, and like the timber, it steeped itself in the forests. — Pablo Neruda

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Serve me tea and cut the cake quickly please,

Ensure my tea is cold with no odd hares. 

Or rabbit fur, or door mouse flees their. 

My unbirthday, she is here — the tease

She comes most everyday to say ‘breathe!’ 

You’re not old yet, many unbirthdays left,

Hold your years close to your beating chest.

You look like twenty-five, oh please

Each and everyday there is chocolate cake, 

Loud parties; a mad hatter who is weird,

Yes, the craziesness gets to me some days.

The party is brilliant, but I always peer,

For an escape home en medias res. 

Alice is happy with one birthday day. 

——–

So back to the town, back to my hills, 

No more unbirthdays? Mind left reeling;

Alice’s leaving Wonderland? Sad feeling. 

Pictures on walls here are hung straight — be still, 

To think on leafy forests dear, woods filled. 

The voice of the rain as it falls and it glows, 

But I’m too drawn to rabbit holes at will. 

Back amidst glamorous parties thrown, 

Having left peace a mere second ago, 

The town brook,  seems a mellenia’s dream.

Same crew in Wonderland serving tea. 

Too hot, too cold, to much cake makes me grow, 

Back to unbirthday hell — un medias res. 

——-


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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

alouette, Fairy Tale Themed, Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Photo Challenge: Poem – Alouette – “A Scare” #amwriting #poetry 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last week’s photo prompt:

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Credit: Natalie Deprina

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She’s only twelve, bright —

The only girl separate from,

Her brothers four.

Parents her adore,

Their last child, girl comes, 

For Mom she’s a sight.

—-

A surprise one spring;

Thought there’d be no more kids born.

They so much wanted,

Girl so undaunted;

By elder brothers‘ scorn.

Bird fluttering wings.

—–

She laughs so cheery,

Going about her day, she’s teased

By family with love. 

Animals adore, 

She’s the darling who pleases,

Makes life less dreary.

—-

Out feeding horses, 

Then, rides with such glee calling,

Her dogs following. 

Danger in shallows, 

Ocean so near, tumbles, falls;

Swims smart, resourceful!

—–

Into warm arms pulled,

Mom near lost her dear, her pearl.

Dad is so wrathful, 

She wasn’t thoughtful

And where were her brothers? She —

Was grounded some. 

—–

Didn’t think enough;

She’s safe, all is well, she’s hugged,

Held close by her Mom,

Told, “Be careful hon!”

You’d be missed, you’re much loved.

Mom again gives hug.

—–

She’s happy again. 

Learned she’s human, as others. 

Preteens can die too.

Better to ride through —

Ocean waves, with friends, brothers. 

So life it remains

—-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Octain Refrain/Double/High - Abbac/cabA Abbad/dabA, Poetry, Relationship, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Poem: Double Octain – “Emerald Stare” #amwriting #poetry


The Octain, full name Octain Refrain, is a form of poetry developed by English poet Luke Prater in December 2010. 
It comprises eight lines as two tercets and a couplet, either as octosyllables (counting eight syllables per line), or as iambic tetrameter, whichever is preferable. Trochaic tetrameter also acceptable. 

The latter yields a more propulsive rhythm, as opposed to iambs, which lilt. As the name suggests, the first line is a refrain, repeated as the last (some variation of refrain acceptable). Rhyme-scheme as follows – 

A -b – b

a-c/c – a

b-A

A is the refrain

c/c is a midline internal rhyme.

A High Octain or Double Octain is simply two Octains in one poem with a rhyme scheme of:

A – b – b – a – c/c – a – b – A 

A – b – b – a – d/d – a – b – A

I’m doing a high Octain. Octains are usually done in 8 syllables. 

Please see Shadow Poetry for more information.

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http://www.gettyimages.ca

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Brilliant green eyes with emerald stare, 

Searching deep; dives into your core,

She claims to know; and she explores.

Waterfalls crashing with new cares, 

The freshness of water, cooling.

She swims yet, eyes magic jewels.

Floating near falls; bodies bare.

Perfection in the water’s deep roar, 

Brilliant green eyes with emerald stare.

———–

Brilliant green eyes with emerald stare. 

She touches your face, within she wars.

Trying to help your soul, her’s sore —

Bruises;  her magic thoughts entail, 

Implore you, see beyond heart torn, 

Surge forward; don’t think of her worn.

You swim near, she begs you, don’t dare, 

Forget her, this place, waterfalls pour, 

Brilliant green eyes with emerald stare.

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Fiction, Flash Fiction, My Thoughts, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Sunday Photo Fiction: Colour Theory


Thank you to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.

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A Mixed Bag

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“Today we’re going to learn about secondary colours on the colour wheel,” Miss Michaels the art teacher said to the grade three class.

“For instance, if we mix the primary colours blue and yellow together, we get green.” 

Miss Michaels poured a little blue and yellow water from their respective wine glasses into an empty wine glass. The liquid in the new wine glass was green.

“Depending on how much blue or yellow I add, determines what colour of green I will get. If I add more blue, the green will be a blue-green such as a teal. If I add more yellow, we will get a more yellow-green such as grassy green.” Miss Michaels explained.

“Let’s try another secondary colour. Jennifer, what colour will I get if I mix red and yellow together equally?” 

“Um, you’d get orange,” Jennifer said.

“Correct Jennifer. If I add more yellow to the orange it will be and orange-yellow like flames of fire but if I add more red it will be an orange-red, like some of the lipsticks your Moms with warmer toned skin wear.” Miss Michaels said.

“Charlie, tell me what will happen if I mix red and blue together?” 

Charlie stammered, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Think about it a moment.” Miss Michaels was patient.

“Oh um, Purple?” 

“Yes Charlie you’re absolutely right. If we add more red to the purple it is more like a red-purple, a plum colour. If we add blue the purple is a blue-purple like. . .” 

Miss Michaels was interrupted by Charlie waving both his hands in the air.”Yes, Charlie?” 

“In the glasses, the water is slanting.” 

“How strange,” Miss Michaels remarked peering down at the wine glasses and then the table. “I think the table . ..” 

It an instant, the table crashed and wine glasses full of food colouring covered miss Michaels who sighed and then giggled.

“Remember what happens when we mix all the colours together?” She asked her grade three class.

“Mud,” they shouted.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Rondel - ABba abAB abbaA, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Poem: Rondel – “Before the Fall”


A French form consisting of 13 lines: two quatrains and a quintet, rhyming as follows: ABba abAB abbaA. The capital letters are the refrains, or repeats.

Please see Shadow Poetry for more information.

Also, Thank you to The Daily Post for the word prompt edge.
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http://www.pinterest.com

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Looking down, your head starts to spin,

You’re on the edge, everyone falls,

Your breath is short, on the ledge crawl,

Infinity awaits, dive in.

—–

The wind rushing round you, air thin.

Pushing off the ledge; you wait, stall.

Looking down, your head starts to spin.

You’re on the edge, everyone falls.

—-

Unsure why you came up here, head spins.

Waiting for pain, you’re enthralled.

Ground appearing close, appalled.

Kissing the earth; you took a risk, grin.

Looking down, your head starts to spin.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.