#November Notes Day 26: Poem – Lauranelle – “Honestly, I Love You”#amwriting #poetry #dVerse


November Notes Day 26 is the song “I’m Confessin’ ” by Liz Wright. I’m combining the prompt with Paul Scribbles #dVerse Poet’s Pub Prompt on the Word grace.


Credit: Cristian Newman via a Unsplash


I’m Confessin'” by Liz Wright


Love is my confession, do you love me too?

I’m confessing I need you, even when I lie.

Honestly, I love you, everyday I do.

It’s hard, I’m not prone to feelings, I don’t cry —

But each moment you’re gone away a tear slips —

Falls down my cheek; I sigh at the offending eye.

In your strange oceanic orbs I fall, drift —

Into bliss, I long for your sweet velvet lips,

So, grace me the truth, love with more than a kiss.

Everything about you, your smile, your chin’s slight dip —

Makes me alive; longing to be close to your skin,

To exist in words of love, my heart leaps, dives, and flips.

Whenever you’re near, your words of love are sin,

I don’t know if I’m dreaming — feeling so misplaced.

Tell me exactly, all your love confessions.

Don’t leave me lost, let me know your graciousness;

Honestly, I love you — say it too, don’t lie,

Keep loving me for all time, graceful choose faith–

Love so, we can live life, believing our love,

Is something infinite, existent from above.

Love is my confession, do you love me too?

Honestly, I love you, everyday I do.


©Mandibelle16.(2018) All Rights Reserved.

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Three Line Tales: A Million Times Better #3LineTales #nonfiction #amwriting 


Thanks to Sony of Only 100 Words, our gracious host of #3LineTales:

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Credit: Jennifer Pallian via UpSplash

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Everyone either loves or hates fruit bread and more often than not, this stiff and solid rock like cake which sits in your stomach as if you’ve ingested a stone, is detested by many people. No matter the tradition or reason we bake/eat fruit bread at Christmas, it is a custom many of us wonder about; I can honestly say, however, there is only one fruit bread in the world I love because it tastes wonderful and is nothing like any fruit bread I’ve ever tasted before, or will ever taste again. 

Grandma’s fruit bread wasn’t like traditional loaves of fruit bread because it was soft and tempting as I believe, any kind of bread should be; inside her bread was sugared and candied fruits much like traditional fruit bread, except my Grandma’s fruit bread was melt in your mouth and we used to toast a small slice or two for breakfast during the holidays and have it with becel; the buttery, sweet, soft bread was delicious and makes me hungry thinking about it; Grandma’s fruit bread was not traditional fruit bread — it was a million times better.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Poem: Triolet – “Unknown Legacies.”


Thanks to the Daily Prompt for the word prompt legacy.

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Honestly, my plans are unknown,

I don’t know if I care to know,

Thoughts hidden in your iPhone.

Honestly, my plans are unknown,

You’ve proved your lack of thought shown,

You’re a record playing, over blown.

Honestly, my plans are unknown,

I don’t know if I care to know. 

—-

You’re a piece of glass broken,

Shattered words never uttered,

Crystallized glass, fast spoken.

You’re a piece of glass broken,

Stealing pieces of me, tokens —

Words wrapped in silver, sputtered,

You’re a piece of glass broken,

Shattered words, never uttered.

—–

Breathe of a promise whispered,

Nothing but, shifting legacies.

Disguising yourself, broken you sift.

Breathe of a promise whispered.

Liar, confuser, burnt to crisp.

Man ruined me, such legalities.

Breathe of a promised whispered.

Nothing but shifting, legacies. 

—–

©Mandibelle16.All Rights Reseved.