Three Line Tales/Saturday Mix: The Decayed Farm House #amwriting #3LineTales #SaturdayMix #flashfiction


Thanks to Sonya from Only 100 Words for hosting #3LineTales. Also thank you to Sarah from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Saturday Mix. This week her Double Take homophones are: band – a musical group and bannedforbidden; cent – one hundredth of a dollar, scent – an aroma, and sent – dispatched.


Credit: Thomas Shellberg via Unsplash


A person can catch the voices of yesterday in the stars where the decayed farm house sags, where a band sings, playing the fiddle, and the scent of bread lingers with rotting wood; King George pennies are scattered on the floor, one cent coins forgotten with a monarch dead, no longer minted with the current Queen, Elizabeth II.

The prairie nights of old linger here, where joy and sorrow blend with relief, moving from a run-down house banned, deemed unsafe by housing inspection; a gleaming modern farmhouse replaces it nearby, but the old one is left to rot with a sense of nostalgia from the farmer’s elderly father.

A person can picture the dances and parties, dead relatives and friends sitting around the table, the young boys sent out to chase the horses who’d escaped the field, into the neighbors pastures; the past clings to this house as it does to the stars above, both from a time long forgotten.


©Mandibelle16.(2018) All Rights Reserved.

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Notable Quotes: October 2017 (Part 2) #quotes #pinterest


Welcome to Part Two for October 2017 Notable Quotes. There are some great ones so I hope you’re inspired in life and throughout your week!

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Day 22 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge /FFftAW: Poem – Rondel – “Wheat Fields” #poetry #flashfiction #NaPoWriMo #AtoZChallenge


Today’s NaPoWriMo challenge is to write a poem called a Georgic focused on taking care of the earth and agriculture and initially written by Virgil. For the A to Z Challenge the GoodRead’s writer’s quote will begin with the letter S. Also I’m using this poem for Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer hosted by the lovely Priceless Joy

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Credit: Yinglan Z

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“I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery—air, mountains, trees, people. I thought, “This is what it is to be happy.” ― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

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In the fields pleasant green, pastures of peace. 

In the fields of wheat, standing tall to greet. 

The threshing machine worked, farmer in his seat, 

Radio loud as wheat full grown ceases —

No longer for a glorious view reached. 

Becomes the meals of many now to eat. 

In the fields pleasant green, pastures of peace

In the fields of wheat, standing tall to greet. 

An old wagon rotting by the house leased. 

Visions of yesterday, horses released. 

No burden for harvest to pull and meet. 

Times have changed, technology entreats. 

In fields pleasant green, pastures of peace. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

100 Word Wednesday: Poem – Lunes – “Wild Horses” #amwriting #poetry #100WordWednesday


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting #100WordWednesday.

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Credit: Samantha Scholl

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There is something about horses,

Wild, gregarious, sweet,

Congregating in lush green fields.

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Some horses ivory, white, others —

Deep ochre brown,

Or dark chestnut brown, whinnying

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Renaming near to each other,

Keeping their family —

Safely accepted in the heard.

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Myriads of horses, heard whinnying,

Their favorite people,

Providing sweet treats, petting them.

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Glossy, soft coats, mains soft,

Hair as powder-puffs,

Nose pushing into your hands.

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They’re eating hay and grass,

Taking gulps, sips —

Of water, teaching their young.

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Colts learn running, playing, listening,

Their humans admire,

Horses’ majesty seen in fields.

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Where they are able to —

Be wild, untamed,

Running freely, breathing hard, pleased.

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Rode by their favorite humans,

Galloping quickly, joyfully,

With pleasure providing their all.

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: A Wild Horse #flashfiction #fiction #amwriting


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

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Credit: Ian Kelly

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Shadow the horse was spirited and wild; the same could be said of her mistress Evelyn. Although Evelyn’s parents tried to tie her down to a man of prosperity and ‘good breeding‘ at twenty-one, she had refused their efforts. More than a decade later she was a renowned Dermotologist and still fiercely independent. 

Evelyn had expected to be alone with her thoughts riding Shadow in the morning. Then, Ryder had appeared on his chestnut horse. He was the neighbour’s son who had left home at twenty-two to become a successful artist. He was as attractive as ever. 

He cut Evelyn off with his horse, so she was forced to ride Shadow in the ocean surf. Ryder tipped his riding hat to her, his brown-eyes glimmering at Evelyn with challenge. 

She had never been a woman to back down, so she raced Ryder back to the stables on his property and won. Ryder had grinned at her with charm and Evelyn for once, allowed herself to be affected. She remained with Ryder long into the following day. 

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“Back In The Saddle” – Matraca Berg

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Sunday Photo Fiction: Horse Kisses


It was taking my mixed junior high class two-hours to arrive at the Ranch for the Deaf. There was several different activities to do there that could be done by those deaf or not. The Pastor who greeted us signed his words as he spoke to us and shared a devotion.

We ate hot dogs and roasted them on metal sticks over a fire pit. My teacher took our junior high class on a walk through the wilderness. I wasn’t to happy about this. If you know me, you know I am mostly an indoors girl due to allergies to fungi, grass, trees, other molds, and pollen. I swallowed my Bendryl with regret as I knew how tired it would make me later on.

We made walking sticks out of smaller trees, peeling the bark off them and rowed a boat in a body of water on the ranch. We learned how to shoot riffles. I remember the bruises I had on my shoulder from the kick-back of the guns.

Lastly, there were the horses who followed us behind wire and wood fences as we walked. I stopped for a moment and laid my hand on the nose of pretty brown chestnut horse. She sniffed me then laid her head on my shoulder as I stroked her snout and scratched behind her ears.

She was beautiful and breathtaking. She followed me as we continued to walk. When I came close to her she hid her nose in my hair and gave a few wet kisses to my neck. I didn’t and still don’t know a lot about horses. But as I found with certain dogs, I realized horses know something about people. They are drawn to certain people for whatever reason they are. They see in people for their souls and they adore you without requiring anything but a nice scratch and perhaps a carrot. Their’s  is a love that gives without regret.


Thanks to  Alistair Forbes for hosting!

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.