#NaPoWriMo Day 24/ Photo Challenge: Poem – Elegy – “Mona Lisa’s Wish” #amwriting #poetry #photochallenge #MLMM


For NaPoWriMo Day 24 the Prompt is: “to write an elegy – a poem typically written in honor or memory of someone dead. But we’d like to challenge you to write an elegy that has a hopefulness to it.”

Also, combining with NEKNEERAJ’s MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Photo Challenge.


Credit: WeHeartit.com


“In the 18th century the “elegiac stanza” emerged, though its use has not been exclusive to elegies. It is a quatrain with the rhyme scheme ABAB written in iambic pentameter.” – (Poetryfoundation.org)


Mona Lisa’s smile, hiding ‘neath veiled eyes,

Legs kicked back in fine stilettos she aches;

Another breath consuming smoke, she respires.

In her last moments, she did not awake.

****

Tissue-paper eyes, refusing revival,

Her last tar-filled breathe such relief — she smiled;

As she never had before, without guile,

No enigmatic curve, carved-out deep-lines.

****

Etched on fair-skin, no more mystery lured,

Last wine sipped with tales of yesterdays.

Before, her portrait immortalized her,

Defined her, as one — not her, with mild gaze.

*****

Bruised under-eyes, her laugh-lines were disturbed;

Never allowed to fade into obscureness.

On show — as if she was mere vanity,

She wished for no portrait, but kind words.

****

You wouldn’t get a crook’s relieved destruction,

It set Lisa free; made her drop the gun smoking,

So now, she’s in the graveyard tucked;

A crook ruined her visage, as she had hoped.

****

To not hear whispers, your ‘ooos’ and ‘aaahs’ said.

To be free of the glass, the Louvres had her trapped,

A part of her soul in oil, now too is dead.

She’s gone, coy lady, all in Heaven’s grasp.

****


©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

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Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Poem – Rictameter – “The Angel” #amwriting #flashfiction #poetry  


Thank you to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

——-

Credit: Louise – The Storyteller’s Abode

——–

Here’s she,

His sweet angel,

Wearing her frothy gown,

She’s beautiful, elegant,

A wife any man could love or desire.

She’s the epitome, the standard,

What women should be like,

Humming music,

Here’s she.

——–

Her hair,

Perfectly coiffed,

Mother of six children,

Few lines on her face, she holds up.

Although, life’s pressure can be confining,

Her lips smile a gesture rehearsed.

What’s underneath in her —

Boarding school mind,

Her hair?

——

Model,

She’d wants all to —

Perceive she’s the perfect wife.

Society expects her to —

Set perfect example because —

She’s upperclass, the lead in the charade.

Acting as the moral —

Center, she must

Model

——

Portrait,

Of the great dame,

Her family, pride, joy,

Madame’s smile is slipping because,

Performing all the time is exhausting.

She wonders if she might sit with —

Port to sip, not thinking,

Herself; not a —

Portrait

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved