Three Line Tales: Soccer for 3-Year-Olds #amwriting #3LineTales


Thanks to Sonya of Only 100 words for hosting #3LimeTales

———

Credit: Christian Widell via UnSplash

——

The gitter of the morning sun touches the dew, the liquid grass blades absorb it, deprived of water, sucking it back like tequila shots. The little ones arrive, talking loudly and shrieking; there are tears, there are runny noses, and there are giggles of happiness. The three-year-olds line up and parents help them do their tasks; Practicing kicking the ball into the net, running here and there, being the goalie, and following each other closely, a pack of pigeons squawking; all is well until Jordy pushes Chris and the toddlers aren’t afraid, piling on top of each other with delighted screams. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Advertisements

Notable Quotes April 2017 Part One #pinterest #quotes #books 


Happy April! Here are some more quotes. I think you’ll like them, they’re book quotes again for the most part 🙂

——
1.

Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

——

2.

Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

—–

3.

Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

——

4.

Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

——

5.

img_3239
http://www.pinterest.com

 

 

Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

——

6.

Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

—–

7.

Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

—-

8.

Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

——

9

Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

——

10.

Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

——

11.

Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

—–

12.

Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

——

13.

Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

——

14.

Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

—–

15.

Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Sunday Photo Fiction: Nickel Dust #amwriting #flashfiction #fiction 


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.

——-

Credit: A Mixed Bag

——

Tess held the torch in her dexterous hands, melting white-gold until it was workable. She shaped it until she formed a cuff for a woman’s wrist. Before the gold cooled, Tess placed in the center of the bracelet a pink diamond. Circling the pink diamond were tiny white diamonds. 

 Her buyer named Adrianne, had been specific about the quality and karat of raw materials used. She had been malicious to Tess as well, bruising her arm with a forceful grasp and spitting in Tessa’s face saying: 

“This bracelet must be your most perfect design yet or else. I’m not paying you so much money for nothing.” 

Fortunately, Tess knew Adrianne had a horrible allergy to nickel. Tess had procured the finest dust of nickel. When she packed up Adrienne’s bracelet she threw in silver and black glitter in the cuff’s box for decoration; the nickel dust hid well in the glitter. 

“You’ve out done yourself,” Adrianne admitted giving Tess a surprised glance. She paid Tess for the remainder of the bracelet and walked out the shop door scowling at Tess on the way out. 

She noticed Adrianne scratching her wrist and arm where she’d tried on the bracelet; Tess smiled. 

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Poem: Free Verse – “Silver and Gold” #poetry #amwriting


http://www.thecollegeinvestor.com

———-

Please Listen Below: 

———-

​Forged in Silver and Gold,
My legs in Bronze wrapped.

Precious metals, the artist molds.

Silver and Gold; precious and cold.

You never let me attach;

Though you feel my skin,

Your most beloved metal.

The artist in me approves,

As you etch my form, and carve,

The length of my body in Silver and Gold.

The Gold of my hair, burnished with Bronze.

The Silver of my pale skin,

Gemstones for my eyes;

The bluest of Sapphires.

More shadow in the glitter,

Masks the deception we share.

Hides my introspection, pain on the inside,

How you could hurt me?

Sketching my soul?

With your golden hands;

So tanned from your heritage,

Creating art with our beauty.

As the Ancient Greek and Romans,

Perfection in Silver and Gold bodies.

You sketch and you etch,

You carve, curves and sensations,

With Silver and Gold,

Caressing my body,

Destroying my core.

My heart and my soul,

The edge of reason fading,

Quicksilver in my veins draining.

Etching you back,

Silver and Gold, for my chosen;

Highlighting your scars,

Diamond gems bright.

Silver and Gold; until I am old,

My body you fashion in Silver and Gold,

Taking and talking, performance art.

My artfulness; your artfulness,

Mutual thirst, for precious metals slaked.

Ag and Au the atomic symbols,

In movements like music,

Golden pixie dust brightens the air,

Silver dust on my eyelids, your cheeks.

Fly me to the Neverland;

Let’s escape the rabbit holes.

Paint our trail flying in Silver and Gold.

I’ve nothing but my heart,

For you my most precious metal.

Silver, Gold, and gems, your body imparts,

Hoping there is more at your core;

In your heart, and in your soul.

Something warm and soft,

The dust from precious metals as pillows pulled of feathers.

Hurt me not; forget me not,

Love me with your Golden skin.

Your Bronze eyes alight and brilliant;

Silver and Gold, we’ve no control,

When the talk turns to whispers;

We blossom and glisten, sweat beading,

Golden and Silver;

My scars so deep glimmer,

Created to highlight the Silver in my skin.

Of Gold so entranced,

Your enthralling hands;

Touch me and multiply the treasure.

You cannot melt me down;

I’m quicksilver on your tongue,

Solid Silver in your grip;

Trapped by your Bronze eyes.

Silver and Gold, in the rise of sun,

King Midas, his work done.

Silver lips give you a kiss,

Beg for your shimmering touch.

As the sun beats down,

The most Golden light,

Of all the light known,

Creator has granted in Silver and Gold.

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved

Poem: La’ Tuine – “Crazy Diamond, Everglow” #introtopoetry #amwriting #poetry #coldplay


Today’s Poetry 101 is about a journey and to use a simile.

——-

The La’Tuin, a poetic form created by Laura Lamarca, consists of 4-line stanzas with an ‘abca, abca’ rhyme scheme that is consistent throughout each stanza. Stanzas 2, 3 etc. must all follow the same rhyme sounds as the first stanza. With the first stanza being repeated again at the end of the piece. It contains a minimum of 4 stanzas, with no maximum length limit. 

A strict syllable count of 9/8/9/8 is required per stanza.

In-Depth Explanation of rhyme: 

Lines 1, 4, 5, 8, 9, 12, 13, 16 etc., all rhyme – this is the ‘A’ rhyme. 

Lines 2, 6, 10, 14 etc, all rhyme – this is the ‘B’ rhyme. 

Lines 3, 7, 11, 15 etc, all rhyme – this is the ‘C’ rhyme.

The La’Tuin is named after A’Tuin, a giant turtle from the Diskworld series. A turtle is a symbol of Mother Earth. La is Laura Lamarca’s signature.

——

Please see Shadow Poetry for more information. I didn’t follow this form exactly, choosing to almost repeat my whole A line in each stanza as well as repeat the last two words in line D. The line “Shine Bright You Crazy Diamond,” loosely comes from a Pinterest quotation you can find below.

——-

http://www.pinterest.com

——–

Shine bright you crazy diamond gleaming,

Your road has never been easy, 

Glitter like the stars, alight sparkling soft.

Shine, fractured jewel, sustain everglow.

—–

Shine bright you crazy diamond beaming, 

Reflective, absorb life’s hurt keenly.

Don’t give up when your facades are sought.

Life’s twisted paths, mean tears; everglow.

——

Shine bright you crazy diamond seething,

Angry, life results in disease.

World’s imperfect; life’s painful a lot.

Keep brilliant, child be an everglow.

——

Shine bright you crazy diamond dreaming,

Journey is long, worth your wounds bleeding.

Patch-up cuts, life’s rough; give your best shot

Glean knowledge, sacrifice; everglow.

——-

Shine bright you crazy diamond gleaming.

Daring, follow down roads heedless.

Experience comes when you ache distraught

Shine brilliant gem;  gold everglow

——-

The term everglow comes from a favourite Cold Play song called, “Everglow.” 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: “Midnight New Years.”


 

http://www.taskcomplete.com
 
What shape is midnight, when the Owls come out. Hooting to each other to see if there mate is there?

What shape does the night take when you stayed in instead. I quite relief to keep peace in your soul. But too much thinking in bed. 

While the world all around rings with laughter and cheer. You hear Auld Lang-sine as the clock strikes the hour, 2015 has disappeared.

The fireworks start with a sparkling of lights. The people and the snow are alight with holiday glow. Then you hear a recessive bang as one by one the crackers glitter the black sky.

And what happens when the fireworks quiet? When the last toast of champagne has been given. When the treats are all eaten. When the last ring of smoke is blown.

Another year begins with goals to do and do not. But I’m still in the hour between twilight and night when the soaring stars glimmer over crisp tree branches. 

I’m still in the time as I did my last bend on a yoga mat purple to end the year with Namaste. I’m still in the moment I drank a big glass of wine. Lush red, bold with a bite. 

Cabernet-Sauvignon by Louis M. Martin, last bottle of the year before the sandman comes calling. Last bottle to crisian the new year, 2016. 

And while it is early yet, the party dresses have been chosen. The suites and tyes pulled out and the world is awaiting. Change fast midnight isn’t stalling. 

Down in time square, the famous ball will drop. The people are packed in like rats. But it would be an experience. To let the hours tick by with the best live entertainment.

But I am the mouse in a blue house and I am writing poetry of the midnight kind. The poem is as quick silver and it runs through my lips. This word, now that phrase, think harder, repeat.

What kind of words are caught in a moment, in the twinkling of eyes filled with mirth and red wine. When does the world return to normal. Not ever, not only. My reply.

Keep on crushing those jello shouts inside of strawberries. Never say I don’t get my fruit or veggies. Tick, tock, tick, tock. The clock is calling, for midnight is where we will meet. 

There is no reprieve you are “stuck in a moment and you can’t get out of it.” Sing it like Bono. U2, I’m not into them so much anymore. Ever since they gave me their last album for free.

Consequently, the Owls are about to fly. The moon is a giant disk of white light in the sky and the man on the moon is smiling in delight. 

The whole worlds turned up to see him in the spotlight. Appear for the moment the ball drops in New York. Appear for the moment the Opera House in Camberra lights the sky with explosions.  

Appear as the Northeran Lights spread a green- purple wash of watercolours across the sky and you are struck by the thought. This moment in time will never repeat.

A moment takes place and then is done. So live it up, be where you are in the present time. Sing loud and sing honestly as the year flashes by. Remember the old times the bad and the good. 

Remember that as my year slips away, in the midnight we embrace and a new day a New Year has begun. 

We have a blank space to live our lives in so smash it with colour the bright and the bold. Crash it with wet paint and make your surrounding beautiful and magnificent. 

Build the New Year of your dreams. At midnight for a moment, we can touch the stars and make a wish in 2016.

——

©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

Writing 101 – Magic – ” Christmas Joy “


I have chosen each gift and I’ve done so carefully. I hope you like them and use it to treat yourself.

I have written down each name on tags of gold that gleam. I’ve tied on the tags with ribbon that glitters in red beam.

Every present inside the gift bags are wrapped in gold and silver wrapping paper. Or placed gently within tissue paper, of Christmas colours galore.

And tissue paper light as a feather is leaning out of every gift bag. In a crushed rose of tissue colour, in gift bags that are special;

This year there’s a reindeer theme and their is plaid and reindeer horns used; for every good girl and boy, there is the finest chocolate to ever coat your tongue.

There are your favourite presents, the ones you hoped you’d find. There are also receipts should you change your mind.

And the Christmas lights shine white and glow off ribbons of red and gold. And angels made of crystal and glass dance on green branches soft.

And balls of deep-red and gold float inside the tree, while scenes of the nativity fill gaps inbetween.The Christmas Eve night has been set, and the presents rest beneath the tree.

We are only waiting for the night of magic to come. Peace on earth goodwill towards all, health and happiness abound.

We are only pausing but for the coming of a Saviour, Christmas Joy. We are looking forward to the Nativity where something unexpected happened.

Where a baby boy who was a heavenly King came to live among the poor and meek. While humanity expected a regal birth.

He showed us all that joy comes not from expectations, from silver, gold, or expensive things — joy comes from within, in your heart and it believes.

—–

©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Grounded


 

Train Tracks
All these thoughts unraveling inside. I don’t know how to make sense of them all. To find peace within a meaning or a person.

It goes to show, where you can go if you let your mind run away. No, epiphanies tonight. I’ll just sort through everything that is making my head spin.

I’ll tell you when I’ve unwrapped these tiny pendant chains that always knot.These strings here, there all crossed.

The tiniest strands of gold, are the ones that are most difficult to unravel. They are wound about each other in the most intricate of ways.

I don’t know much of anything I believe. When I can’t sort out my life. Plan things the way I need them to be planned. I do my best but it’s not enough.

And I get myself into situations. I know I’m headed for a train on the tracks. But I couldn’t stop myself from walking on the train tracks. It’s the feel of the wind beneath you in ignorance, before you smash.

And collisions are solid, damaging, and hurtful. I want to make the right decisions,  but I’m drawn towards the wrong ones. I want to let everything be, but I’m at loss for certainty.

How can you make the right choices, when you want songs of experience; instead of songs of innocence. There is something wonderful about the light, refreshing and tranquil.

But the blackness hides in a corner waving gold chains that entice you with their gilding and glimmering. The wrong thoughts call to you and set themselves in your mind. They make their desires known.

I’m only the age I am and the experience I have. I look to others, but still I do not know. They say experience is the worst teacher. But where have I to go?

So, that train keeps on coming and I am blinded by the lights and the moment before misery when I think I’ll be okay. But everyone knows train wrecks kill, and flying is for fools who didn’t think to wait at the train crossing.

Crash, bang! If you don’t make up your mind you’ll get hit from the otherside. Between a rock and a hard place. But for peace, I just want to sleep tonight.

The train is a metaphor for life. You can’t sit on the sidelines. Choices are here to be made. But you have to choose carefully.You can’t step out infront of an oncoming train.

You have to wait for the moment the train pulls up to the station. Buy your ticket and hope that your travels lead you to make choices with grace, and never let your feet step off the ground. Flying is for the dead. The intelligent stay grounded.

—–

©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.