Fiction, Licentia - aabbccddeeAA, BBffgghhiiAA, CCjjkkllmmAA, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Tale Weavers Fiction/Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Photo Challenge: Poem – Licentia – “Without A Sound” #amwriting #poetry #love


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

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Credit: Rich Howman

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Laughter in the moment, golden hour found

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound

Swing her up into your arms, because it —

Felt like the thing to do, she’s dear and swift;

Her punch on your arm, painful kind of bliss

All to happy to meet with a wet kiss. 

Perserved in time the clock keeps ticking fast, 

Moments gone, looking back, it never lasts. 

Years slide forward, what can you do but, 

Move forward too, memories cause a rut. 

Laughter in the moment, golden hour found, 

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound

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Swept her up into your arms, because it —

Felt like the thing to do, she’s dear and swift. 

Wiggling and giggling in your —

Arms; begging to have legs on ground restored

She thought she was too heavy for your back, 

You just laughed and kept her close, said “Relax.” 

You were walking barefoot on the cool —

Wet ground, the grass made you slip, such glad fools. 

Drop of joy harnessed in a crystal glass

Kept to hold, make the precious moments last. 

Laughter in the moment, golden hour found,

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound.

Her punch on your arm, painful kind of bliss

All too happy to meet with a wet kiss. 

Lovers as close as lovers can be, rolling —

On the blanket, on grass, after strolling.

Gleam in her eyes promising heaven, 

Twist of her smile taking you to Never —

-land of pirates, lost boys, and she, Wendy, 

Picking up a sword, fighting for her when —

Pirates attacked; shoeless running in real

Life; time ceasing again, treasures for feels. 

Laughter in the moment, golden hour found

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound

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Perserved in time, clock keeps ticking fast, 

Moments gone, looking back, it never lasts. 

The truth is hard to swallow, to remember

Years pass, euphoria is dismembered

Harsh realities, sickness, health; sickness wins, 

She flew away my sparrow with the wind.

Such disease sucks the life from a body, 

Hope, a religious dream from pain prodded. 

A new eternity to love, swing round with —

Dirty bare feet and love despite death’s grip. 

Laughter in the moment, golden hour found

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved

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

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: My Wildest Dreams


I spotted an exquisite Brick house, overgrown with leaves in brilliant red as I walked my dachshund Luna. The house had a turquoise wooden door and it beckoned me inside. No one answered when I called out, so I kept exploring.

I spied a small sitting area with two mugs of tea cooling on the coffee table. A tired man appeared smiling and said, “I’ve been waiting for you, Kayla. My house has chosen you as its new owner.” 

“How do you know my name?” I asked the man alarmed.

“The house told me who you were and that you would visit today. It has ancient magic and has existed in some form for thousands of years. A sourcerer created it. Remember, until the house chooses another owner, you’re its keeper. You and Luna are also gifted long life.”

Before my eyes, the man disintegrated with a sigh.

I wandered my new home finding all my possessions. The house had also taken on the appearance and decor of my ideal home.

In the back was a deck with a white sand beach and a rolling ocean shore. Luna escaped my grasp and ran out to the water. The house had fulfilled my wildest dreams. 

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http://www.pixebay.com

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Thank to the wonderful Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW. Apology for the length.

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©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

Fiction, Flash Fiction, Music and Performers, My Thoughts, Quotes, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Sunday Photo Fiction: Purple Haze


A storm of this magnitude was a rare occurrence when the weather wasn’t boiling hot. The temperatures had been mild at best.

Albert had felt the temperature slowly decrease outside his truck where he ate his favourite chocolate bar. He had become cold enough to throw on his thin jacket. Albert adjusted the rim of the Blue Jays hat, as the first drops of rain fell methodically on his nose. 

Then the storm had arisen with tyranny. The unbiased cruelty of Mother Nature had thrown everything she had into the storm as Albert ducked back into his truck for cover.

Golf-ball sized hail pounded down, denting Albert’s beloved white pickup truck. Then the rain crashed in torrents of harsh unending water from the sky. The wind was blowing, howling it’s rage and rocking Albert’s truck.

Albert turned on the radio to comfort himself. He could hear thunder in the distance rumbling closer.

 The sky was a harsh grey with a small purple glow as lightening sparked across it. One lightening crack was so terrifyingly loud, Albert jumped. 

The destructive path of the lightening with thunderheads, made Albert think he was adrift in purple haze when deep booms were followed by flashes of brilliant purple.

Then, the radio was suddenly, blaringly loud to Albert as the thunder and lightening passed. The rain continued in sheets.

Jimi Hendrix was singing “Purple Haze,” crooning in his legendary voice on the radio:”Yeah, Purple Haze all in my eyes, don’t know if it’s day or night . . .” 

Albert could relate to those lines as he waited through the mid-afternoon in his truck, for the purple haze left in the rainy sky to pass. 

(Although, Albert knew Hendrix sung of a different kind of “Purple Haze. “)

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A Mixed Bag

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Thank you to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF
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Jimi Hendrix ” Purple Haze”

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©Mandibelle16.All Rights Reserved.