Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Poem – Lauranelle – “The Best Wait Ever” #amwriting #poetry #flashfiction 


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

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Credit: Dawn M. Miller

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Painfully stuck in airport for hours wait, 

Sitting here staring the clock ticks slowly. 

Here with you life’s perfect –it doesn’t grate. 

My arm falls asleep, your heavy head rolls, 

Further onto my chest; I need to get up. 

Legs start to tingle, I’ve sat too long so —

I gently moving your head; my ‘buttercup,’ 

You hate when I call you that but you make me smile. 

Happiness, tranquility; I’m drugged. 

Departure board reads, plane is still awhile. 

Walking for coffee, some lunch, magazines. 

You’re awake when I return, you beguile;

Your grin makes you quiver and I preen. 

Unaware we stare, our stare held timeless.

You appreciate me (and food); your eyes gleam. 

We’re both stuck here all night, it’s liveable, 

We both forge a tighter bond insurmountable. 

Painfully stuck in airport for hours wait. 

Here with you, life’s perfect — it doesn’t grate. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Poem: Lauranelle – ” The Vivid Seductress” #amwriting #poetry


Credit: http://www.myartmagazine.com by Patricia Murciano
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Her smile is in her entrancing blue eyes, 

Sky of ink blue enhanced, purple, red, and pink. 

Wild child bites her ruby red lips, desires —
You, captivates you, takes you to the brink. 

Rainbow nails, smooth hair of brilliant hues too. 

Locks deep teal, sky blue, purple fuchsia inked

She’s a work of art, life sparkling through, 

Claret brows rise, she’ll admonish you; 

Leave her to pout; childlike tears will ensue. 

Life of party; her disdain ends soon,  — 

She’ll glide back, scarlet heels, winged shoes, 

Her petal skin glows in silver moon, 

No shred of innocence, pride taken, she woos. 

Lush sweet lips overcome your instinct to fight, 

She’ll take all you have and more, but to prove

She can have all she wants; life in black and white — 

Misses the intensity of multicoloured hues. 

Her life shines with saturation so bright, 

Chromacity, most vivid colours known, 

They overwhelm her form, rainbow explodes. 

Her smile is in her entrancing blue eyes, 

Wild child bites her ruby red lips, desire. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Saturday Mix Flash Fiction: Soliquey – Blank Verse – “The Con” #amwriting #soliliquey #fiction #SaturdayMix


Thanks to Bastet from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Saturday Mix. This week’s prompt is a soliloquy at a train station. I’ll be using blank verse or unrhymed iambic pentameter as the Bard did. 

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“Imagine a scene, a train is pulling out of the station and a person standing on the platform looking dejected. What can have happened. Perhaps this person is someone in the station wishing to leave but for some reason hasn’t. “

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Credit: GSK 2017

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So leaves the train, so leaves my heart, 

Why him I once loved, now I know not? 

Must have been his eyes so brilliant a green, 

Gems such as emeralds, a sea-green storm brewed.

Was it his cavalier smile, his laugh? 

With him I felt wanted, weak in the knees. 

I was his Queen, he my adoring King. 

He cared for me gently, said I shouldn’t stay —

On my own, for he loved me; fooled me, 

Underestimated a woman cruelly scorned. 

I saw cracks in the vase, facade crumbled, 

An artist’s dream of beauty such a fake, 

He left, emptied my pockets of money. 

This con thinks he’s safe going to Bahamas, 

Since he betrayed me, I say differently. 

He’ll be doing some flying, and me thinks he’s done. 
Thrown off the tallest bridge, out of the train. 

Expensive was his end, but I’m appeased

I watched his train moving away, still —

Missing his voice, his touch, time spent loving. 

But I know he never loved me, I was ‘means’ —

To an end; yet, the ‘real end’ was his own. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner: Poem – Italian Sonnet – “Dodged A Bullet” #amwriting #poetry #flashfiction 


Thanks to Roger Shipp for hosting FFftPP.

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Credit: http://www.pixebay.com

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Song of love he sings for her, poetry;

His heart in words difficult to sing.

Lyrics mean everything; his voice brings —

Such soft words gently strummed; he’s lonely

What weapon wins love’s war? The truth only? 

Does she understand? His music, his heart? 

Fact of his feelings —life with her, prays starts.

His daylight is her smile, his voice slowly

Sings last syllables; his baritone stops. 

She listened not, she had such vanity

He never knew she was so off-handed, 

Laughed at his song with her heart made of rock.

Raised her nose, sauntered away cruelly, 

She said not a word; he dodged a bullet. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Jumping In Puddles #amwriting #flashfiction #memories


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

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Credit: Jessica Haines

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Mom kept telling Autumn to stop playing in the water which had puddled into massive shallow lakes at school.”No Autumn, you’ll get your clothes and shoes all wet and you’ll come home and say how your feet are cold because you refuse to wear your rubber boots,” 

Autumn gave her Mom a Cheshire grin, “It’s okay Mom, I brought extra clothes and shoes.” But Mom only frowned and forbid Autumn to jump in the puddles. 

As with many children, forbidding them not to do something, ensures they will do that something. So when Autumn and her friends arrived at school and saw the giant puddles which rose to the middle of their calves, they splashed in the puddles all day. 

Autumn came home on the school bus and her mother gasped. Her daughter was soaked straight through. Even her second set of clothing and shoes were wet. She was going to yell at Autumn but seeing the exhilarated smile on Autumn’s face, decided to forgo the chastisement today. After all, the puddles would be around for a while. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner: Grandpa’s Fish Pond #amwriting #flashfiction #fiction 


Thanks too Roger Shipp for hosting FFftPP.

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Credit: Sora Sangano – http://www.unsplash.com

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Phallon watched the fish swim in the pond his Grandpa had installed in his backyard. He enjoyed visiting his Grandpa each Saturday. Grandpa had put the pond in because young Phallon loved the fish so much as a toddler; ‘fishes’ had been his first word. 

Now he sat with Grandpa who asked him about school and of course the girls in his school. Uncomfortable, Phallon wished Grandpa didn’t ask him about that. 

Grandpa simply laughed,”Phallon, I’m only teasing you. It’s good you have friends who are girls and that there are girls you like. This Jennifer, have you asked her out?”

Phallon’s face turned red, “Yeah we’ve gone to a movie together and bowling. I want her to be my girlfriend but her parents say she’s too young to have a boyfriend.” 

Grandpa nodded a smile on his face, “You’ll find the right one when you’re older. When I saw your Grandma the first time, my heart lept out of my chest. I wonder if I will ever meet that right girl of yours and see you marry her?” 

Phallon felt uncomfortable again, “Why wouldn’t you be there Grandpa? You’re only eighty-one?” 

Grandpa patted Phallon’s hand then squeezed it, “You know, my boy, I’ve been sick a long time. It’s a battle I’ve mostly conquered, but my strength is waning these days.When you get married someday, think of your old Grandpa, okay?” Phallon nodded feeling a lump in his throat.

Two-years later Grandpa succumbed. Phallon was sixteen and felt raw inside. He returned to the fish pond in Grandpa’s  back yard. He noticed the fishes were floating and the reality of life made tears wet his cheeks. In the mess of the last two weeks including Grandpa’s funeral, no one had remembered to feed the fish. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Noteable Quotes: Part One – January 2017 #quotes #pinterest #newyear


Happy New Year 2017!!!!! Here are some quotes to start the new year off right. I look forward this year to exciting challenges to learn from, experiences to be present in, and new people I will have to pleasure to know and meet both out and about and in the blogging/writing world online. 

 Thank you to all of you who follow my blog and/or read my blog posts and writing. Thank you for your support and for your time! It’s much appreciated as are your likes, comments, and follows on WordPress, Twitter, Tumblr, Instagram, and Facebook!!!! You are amazing!!!! Hoping 2017 is everything fantastic you hope it will be! 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Interview With Jackelyn Santana


Welcome back to another December issue of my biweekly interview series. Today I’m interviewing the gracious and beautiful Jackelyn Santana who was recently married. She has a faith based blog here: Faith Walking Hebrews 11:1. She describes her blog using the Hebrews 1:11 Bible Verse: “Now Faith Is The Assurance of Things Hoped For, The Conviction of things Not Seen.”


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Jackelyn Santana

1. Jackelyn, Please Tell Us About Yourself?

My name is Jackelyn Santana, I am from Miami, FL, and my family is of Cuban descent.I am a child of God and passionate about my faith. I LOVE reading, blogging, and spending time with my family.  I was married on November 11, 2016 and  I am a mother to an amazing six-year-old and a stepmother to two beautiful young ladies.

This year has been full of blessings. To emotionally prepare myself for our marriage, I spent the year analyzing myself and I’m finally at a place where I can embrace my authenticity. I spent a good portion of my life internalizing my pain, wearing masks to cope, and believing something was wrong because I didn’t have everything as it seemed everyone around me had.

Having this frame of mind enslaved me. There wasn’t anything wrong with what I was facing, but because there’s a stigma associated with imperfection and emotional struggle, I thought it was a ‘ME’ problem. I didn’t realize the truth, my problems were natural and universal.

As I began opening up and peeling off the layers I was hiding under, I discovered more and more people who hid there pain as I was doing. We strengthened each other, helped each other heal, celebrated our spiritual growth, and learned to love ourselves no matter where we are in life.

The most beautiful thing I’ve witnessed is a group of hopeless lost souls coming together and loving each other back to life. We found a reason to smile again. This world is in such need of healing. I would love nothing more than to help spread love and healing wherever I go in my life.


” As I began opening up and peeling off the layers I was hiding under, I discovered more and more  people who hid there pain as I was doing. We strengthened each other, helped each other heal, celebrated our spiritual growth, and learned to love ourselves no matter where we are in life.” – Jackelyn Santana


2. When Did You Begin Blogging? What Does Blogging and Writing Mean To You?

I started blogging about four months ago July 20, 2016 to be exact. Blogging means everything to me! It’s liberated me. I’m free!! The more I write about things, the less ashamed I am of what I’ve faced. With each post I’ve removed the chains of emotions and experiences I kept a secret. These emotions and experiences have lost power over me.

This has allowed me to acknowledge and celebrate my spiritual growth. I enjoy interacting with other bloggers. Blogging also gives me an inside view of my soul. Sometimes I’m shocked when I read older posts because when I wrote, I let the words flow from my soul and they expressed things I wouldn’t voice out loud.


3. Where Do You Find Your Inspiration and Motivation To Write?

I am inspired by my faith and other bloggers. I began blogging about one-year ago, but I didn’t think I could write posts people would want to read. I’m better at public speaking than I am at writing. A co-worker of mine kept pushing me to write. I would share advice with her and she would nudge me to put it on paper. I finally decided to test the waters by submitting a guest post on Proverbs 31 Women.

They approved my guest post one-month later and I was shocked and honored.  I started writing away on my blog often. My faith in God changed my life, it wasn’t until I understood my faith better that I was able to apply its principles to my life. In the past few years I’ve uncovered so much richness I was missing out on because I didn’t study my beliefs. It’s become a way of life for me and I want to help others learn about Jesus in practical terms.

Many times when we think of the Bible we think of a standard which is too high for most of us to reach. The Bible comes across as something only ‘Holy’ people read. Or, we become intimidated by it because we find it unrelatable since The Bible was written many moons ago and times have changed.

These ideas of Christianity couldn’t be further from the truth. We need to find the right tools to break down barriers from reading God’s Word, The Bible, and help others understand faith in simpler terms. Believing in Jesus can guide us towards love and happiness. Once we understand the basics, our soul will keep searching for more – our hearts will be “homing our Heavenly home,” if you will, and we will grow spiritually.

By identifying with examples from the stories in The Bible, we can understand our obstacles are not too much, our lives can be molded in a way which allows us to serve both God, our families, and friends because they’re all related.

God acknowledges our need for connection and sent his son Jesus not only so that we could be saved, but so we could identify with Jesus and strive to imitate His way of life. As a woman, fiancee, and mother, I have been able to love more purely and unconditionally through The Bible’s teachings, making them a way of life.

Reflecting on the dark moments I’ve faced, I see how fine the line between good and evil can be — being saved or being lost; I want to help others be saved as I am saved through Jesus’s death and resurrection. 


“My faith in God changed my life, it wasn’t until I understood my faith better that I was able to apply its principles to my life. In the past few years I’ve uncovered so much richness I was missing out on because I didn’t study my beliefs.’ – Jackelyn Santana


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Jackelyn Santana

4. When Do You Like to Write and Do You Have Any Current Special Writing Projects?

There isn’t a time of day that inspires me the most. I write whenever my heart moves me to write. As of today I’m only blogging. My passion and dream is to help others. Perhaps join /create a traveling retreat group, or participate in spiritual workshops. This is a concept similar to a ‘Women of Faith’ tour, but on a smaller more personal level.

There would be one to one interaction, healing exercises, and honest group talk. I would love to help others come out of their shells and be saved through faith in Jesus and God as I was. My healing is made possible through God and meeting an amazing group of women in my Emmaus Ministry who were transparent about their struggles and shared tips on overcoming the obstacles of life.


5. Are You Planning on Publishing Any Written Work in The Future?

I have not published anything. Perhaps later in life I will be presented the opportunity to do so, or I will submit writing drafts. With only four-months of blogging under my belt I’m focusing on identifying my writing voice, interacting with others through my writing, and improving my writing skills which are at a novice level. I would also like to study theology and I think it would further advance my writing.


“My healing is made possible through God and meeting an amazing group of women in my Emmaus Ministry who were transparent about their struggles and shared tips on overcoming the obstacles of life.”


6. What Is Your Writing Process Like?

I sit in front of my laptop or a notepad and I pray, relax, and set my soul free to express itself. When an idea pops into my mind I write it down either on my phone’s notepad, or sticky notes. I may begin draft posts that I revisit at a later time when I can give my writing undivided attention. I have about fourteen draft posts which I’ve begun and I’m saving for the future blog posts.

When I first started blogging I would write and post instantly. I’ve learned to slow down and process topics, allowing my mind to continue digging for information. I will officially post my writing after I have looked at every angle.


7. Do You Have Any Helpful Advice for Other Writers Starting Out?

Write about topics you are passionate about. It feels great to do what you love. I love what I write about and it’s how I live my life. If you’re on the fence about writing I would suggest you take a leap of faith and see what comes from this desire.

WordPress has a wonderful community of bloggers and this community helps you grow as a writer. Don’t write posts for the sake of increasing traffic and followers, write on topics you enjoy writing about.  


8. Is There Anything Else You Would Like To Share Pertinent to Yourself or Your Writing?

I am God’s creation, I am human, I am imperfect, and I am meant to depend on God. Read this post to learn more about me.


9. Please Share With Us Some Of Your Favorite Blog Posts:

Slogging Through The Tears

By Jackelyn Santana

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“Sensitive people are the most genuine and honest people you will ever meet. There is nothing they won’t tell you about themselves if they trust your kindness. However, the moment you betray them, reject them or devalue them, they become the worse type of person. Unfortunately, they end up hurting themselves in the long run. They don’t want to hurt other people. It is against their very nature.  They want to make amends and undo the wrong they did. Their life is a wave of  highs and lows. They live with guilt and constant pain over unresolved situations and misunderstandings.  They are tortured souls that are not able to live with hatred or being hated. This type of person needs  the most love anyone can give them because their soul has been constantly bruised by others. However, despite the tragedy of what they have to go through in life, they remain the most compassionate people worth knowing, and the ones that often become activists for the broken hearted, forgotten and the misunderstood. They are angels with broken wings that only fly when loved.” –Shannon L. Alder

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I am on an emotional roller coaster ride.

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I will not try to deny it, this is who I am, sensitivity and all. I wear my sensitivity as a badge of honor, although throughout life I have been ridiculed or further wounded because of it. I cannot control the sensitive nature of my heart. I may pretend something has not stabbed or wounded me, but more likely than not this is not the case.

For many years I have tried to harden myself, hoping that I would become immune to the blows of life, and the harsh words received from those I hold with high esteem. Despite my efforts, my sensitive nature is unchanged.

My sensitive nature is misunderstood.

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Those closest to me believe they understand me and my motives. They believe they can read between the lines. Many dare to correct me when I express my intentions and motives, determined their interpretation of my position is correct. My hard and serious exterior denies me the right to ever be recognized as a victim, although, my heart tells me otherwise. Many times I find myself confused, doubting my heart, thinking that there is something severely wrong because I’m always wrong and never right about my own feelings. Maybe I am bad at the core?

One Of My Favorite Bible Verses:

“For what I am doing, I do not understand; for I am not practicing what I would like to do, but I am doing the very thing I hate.”  Romans 7:15

broken-heartIn my case, I do not understand why I continue to love and care the way I do. I know better, yet I cannot help it. I continue to express my vulnerabilities to those I care about in hopes that I will be understood. The more I explain myself, the further away I get from MY truth, and the closer I get to shedding unfavorable light on myself. I allow the fighter in me to get the best of me when I feel taken advantage of. This without a doubt, is used against me as I fail to be consistent, giving in to my human frailty. I can only be silent for so long without jumping into protective mode. I can only shed so many tears without lashing out. The cruelty I spew is the cruelty I have learned through life, it is not the natural nature of my heart. I would never purposely provoke tears from anyone, not even those who have hurt me profoundly. Yet sometimes acting in this manner is the only way I can get someone to listen to my voice and believe my truth. I am neither too proud to extend an apology when deserved and make amends with those I’ve offended. My truest desire is to maintain peace.

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I am not taken seriously in my tender moments; my tenderness is taken for granted. The world demands yet resents my tenderness. Should a loved one offend me, my tenderness is an inconvenience because my tears take away from focusing on the “root” of the problem, and I am forced to slog against the tears. Should I act sternly with others, not allowing my emotions to flinch, I’m accused of being cold and harsh. The combination of my emotions is never seen as right.

It seems my sensitivity is to be used at the convenience of others. I can never be me. I’m never entitled to the beauty of my emotions. My view of my emotions is brushed off because I am overly sensitive. Yet, I cannot label the world as overly cruel, overly angry, or overly unforgiving.

I read once that instead of numbing our pain we need to identify the source of our pain and work on the problem instead of the symptom. For example, we may have a headache because we are dehydrated, hungry, or stressed. We should work on fixing those issues rather than silencing the headache calling out for attention.

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The same goes for my tears. My tears, the ‘water works’ as they’ve been called, are not crocodile tears. It’s not an act or an attempt to manipulate; these statements couldn’t be further from the truth. My tears are indicators that my soul is experiencing pain, something is hurting me. To stop my pain at it’s root I need to either freeze my heart (which I have failed to accomplish) or excuse myself from the undesirable situation until I’m emotionally ready. This I can rarely accomplish without ridicule that I cannot work through a topic, without being accused of being overly dramatic.

I am always apologizing, but rarely entitled to an apology when hurt because my over-sensitivity is what causes the pain, not the actions or words of others.

When is my sensitive nature ever right for me!?

People say my tears and sensitive nature take away from the moment. I have slogged away for a good portion of my life to hide these parts of myself. I keep my tears a secret and am ashamed of my weakness.

As an adult, I find that my sensitive nature and heart are not the problem. The problem is the lack of sensitivity in the world. It’s not the compassionate who are the problem; a lack of empathy is the problem!  I will continue to embrace my sensitivity, tears and all. I do not lose hope there are more sensitive people out there. I won’t (and truthfully can’t) harden myself and lose hope because I find the world to be cruel and unloving. I am who I am. I am transparent.My anger is pain masked with anger. It’s sadness for being the recipient of a pain I would never wish to inflict on others. It’s a betrayal I never foresaw. It’s the second opportunity no one else would’ve extended, yet I’ve already extended a third to my offender while knowing how the situation will likely end. It’s fighting the urge to assume the worst in others. It’s the unconditional love I am willing to give which is rarely cashed in.

It’s the product of a broken heart living in a broken world that is trying to break the best in me.

  “Highly sensitive people are too often perceived as weaklings or damaged goods. To feel intensely is not a symptom of weakness, it is the trademark of the truly alive and compassionate. It is not the empath who is broken, it is society that has become dysfunctional and emotionally disabled. There is no shame in expressing your authentic feelings. Those who are at times described as being a “hot mess” or having “too many issues” are the very fabric of what keeps the dream alive for a more caring, humane world. Never be ashamed to let your tears shine a light in this world.” – Anthon St. Maarten

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Here Are More of Jackelyn’s Posts:


Thank you so much Jackelyn for agreeing to be interviewed. I am thrilled to find out so much about you and hope your struggles in life have become easier to handle through your faith. I hope you have more peaceful moments, than times which stress you out. Here is one more link to Jackelyn’s BlogFaith Walking Hebrews 11:1


Thanks for reading! If you would like to answer some interview questions about writing/blogging/poetry and your unique perspective and process on writing, I would encourage you to reach-out to me on my Contact Page. I would love to have you featured as a biweekly interviewee. See you in two-weeks!


©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Poem: Free Verse – “A Congested Mind” #poetry #amwriting 


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They call it the unknown

The future lying before you. 

No matter if you’re psychic, 

No one knows what happens. 

There are varied scenarios,

Ways it could play out, 

But truly we don’t know the future

It’s a mystery creeping forward, 

And it pulls us along on our knees.

Whether we go willingly, 

Or go kicking and screaming;

Time marches in to the beat,

Of father time’s own drum. 

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I don’t know what’s coming, 

I know worrying won’t help. 

I think sometimes I try to give advice, 

Reassuring myself in kind. 

There are bright possibilities, 

Hoping people become, 

More kind than they are mean to each other. 

Pray people look-out for each other, 

But sometimes I think society is self-centred. 

I admit to such fault and others too,

But I’m still fearful;

When I think of a year or two ahead, 

I’m afraid what if it’s not the right plan? 

Experience deftly taught me,

Plans are dim outlines of reality. 

Mostly, life goes where it goes

And God only knows where or why. 

Leading us through dark valleys, 

Into trenches with piercing bullets flying. 

Into classrooms with screaming kids, 

A gunmen on the loose. 

He leads us through to people, 

Whose power makes one nervous. 

How even democracy isn’t safe —

A tyrant could rule all. 

Maybe the world will surprise me, 

But I fear for the little person. 

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My own personal fears weigh heavy, 

Though others bear pains greater. 

Of lawyers and cases, 

Of corruption and crime. 

Those crimes we deem terrible;

Those crimes brushed under the rug. 

Greed and all those other sins,

Abhorred but freely ignored. 

Though I can never say what’s worse —

My own flaws or imperfections

Or those I’m faced with. 

Stress shows through cracks, 

Egg yokes running. 

No one likes raw eggs except in cookie dough

The future is overwhelming. 

But at least they’ll still be cookie dough, 

And I don’t know why —

I’m particular and observant

Why I know it’s better to be alone

Than be truly alone with another. 

Why I wait for that spark

Why I wait for the morning dawn. 

A smile in his eyes which is genuine

Wherever he is. 

But maybe happiness is a puppy

Paws following me on the hardwood, 

Barks at random sounds. 

The glory of a puppy skidding down —

The off leash trail and wheeling;

Turning around to jump on me, 

To pick her up when she’s tired. 

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My bones are stiff and ridged

My dreams fall to despair

So many books and writers, 

And not anyone can compare

How to rise above the masses, 

Or fill your own niche contented. 

But perhaps one could be something

Success in small moments. 
Afraid and weighted

Need to cry, tears unshed, 

Because disease is cruel. 
Even if Heaven is the end of the tunnel,

So many words are left unsaid

The timing of it all, does it work? 

I feel alienated

Though I try hard to keep the connection

It’s all in your planning Lord;

So must I say, your will be done.

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©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved. 

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

——

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

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved