#OctPoWriMo Day 4/ Saturday Mix: “Koala Dance” #amwritingpoetry #SaturdayMix


For OctPoWriMo Day 4 the Prompt is strange animals. Also, combining with Sarah from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie’s Saturday Mix Prompt using a Jeffrey’s Sonnet.


According to Shadowpoetry.com, ” A Jeffreys Sonnet has 8 syllables per line. And includes 2 sestets with a cross rhymed couplet (the cross rhyme is in the 2nd to 4th syllable in each of the two lines of the couplet). Also there is a cross rhyme in the first line of the 2nd sestet (between the 2nd to 4th syllable), tying the 1st sestet to the 2nd. So the rhyme scheme would be: aabccb, (b)ddeffe, (e)g (g)e. The letters in ( ) are the cross rhymes.


Credit: Google

Your eyes they glare, mud pupils flared;

Furry ears edged with white-grey hair.

What do you see with such dauntless —

Eyes peering, shifting; are we gone?

Your sleek body quivers; pondering —

Us, odd strangers — hairless, jaunty.

Are we to be feared as we taunt?

Clueless kids tapping glass, so brash.

Mama Koala bear, have you sass?

Energy to climb from your branch?

For we can’t hear your tired moans,

Your yearning for forest’s of Home.

Would you leap, run, given the chance?

Or, would you clutch your tree in stance?

Hugging your young, a mother’s dance.

Yet, in paces your claws advance;

Higher than we below would chance.


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

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#NaPoWriMo Day 12/Poet’s Pub: Poem – Haibun – “The Battle” #dVerse #poetry #amwriting


For NaPoWriMo Day 12, the Prompt is: to “write a haibun that takes in the natural landscape of the place you live. I have to my surprise, never written in this form, so here’s a definition from Haibun– Poets.org:


“Haibun is a poetic form that allows one to answer some of these questions while providing a fresh perspective through a lens that focuses on nature and landscape. Haibun combines a prose poem with a haiku. The haiku usually ends the poem as a sort of whispery and insightful postscript to the prose of the beginning of the poem. Another way of looking at the form is thinking of haibun as . . . a prose poem ending with a meaningful murmur of sorts: a haiku.”


Also, I’m combining with Paul Scribble’s #dVerse Poet’s Pub, poetic prompt on a quote about poetic arts. The two prompts fit together well.


To write about poetry is to believe that there are answers to some of the questions poets ask of their art, or at least that there are reasons for writing it, writes Michael Weigers, editor of the anthology This Art: Poems about Poetry (Copper Canyon Press, 2003).


Credit: FreeStocks.org via Unsplash


Past the ravine, the North Saskatchewan flows; ice on her surface where Spring’s murmuring waters compose. The snow floats, sheets of ice crack, confused, the rivers pull bursts through. Amidst howling winds and bitter nights of chill, Spring waltzes in with lilacs. But old-man winter berates with frost, slippery roads, broken sidewalks. Spring blossoms and explodes, to weave the buds that summon bees. Springs drugged words ignored, no lush greenery bursts. Leaves rot, the ice, the snow, the muck, the refuse mushed, derelict without Spring’s blossoms. She hums her tune, an heals Winter’s hacking cough; she pleads her assurance of poppy fields. The old-man shakes his fist with cantankerous growl — another ‘last’ snowstorm grits. The poet composes in metaphorical bliss, avoiding morn’s beams. The question of, “Why?” No matter. The question of, “How can I not?” Words that enthral.

*****

Sleep in poppy’s opium kiss,

Revel in sunlight’s verdant bliss;

Spring’s song; poet’s light.


©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Beyond Words or Woofs #amwriting #flashfiction #dogs #homelessness


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

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Credit: Fandango


The trails meander through the river valley park where the city erected unique benches made from verdant trees felled to create park pathways. At night Paul and his four dogs inhabit a particular bench. They rest their tired legs and pant joyfully, cooling off from the hot humid summer days, during the night.

However, in the winter the dogs huddle against Paul, absorbing each other’s heat. Paul doesn’t have much in his tattered backpack. Only a oversized bottle of water, a bag of dog food, a couple of protein bars, and thin blankets for the dogs. But one night the ice creeps up frosting Paul’s beard. It’s -45 degrees Celsius outside and the homeless shelters are full.

Despite layers of clothing Paul trembles and his teeth chatter; he can’t sleep in this miserable blizzard. He’s terrified the dogs will freeze to death — they’re his family and all he values in the world. He covers them, wrapping them in blankets before spreading the sleeping bag across them all. Their fur is frosted over and he keeps rubbing them with his gloved hands to keep their bodies from stiffening.

Suddenly, a light shines, blinding Paul in the treacherous cold, then his body heats as if he were sitting out on a beach in Mexico on the perfect hot day. The dogs peer up at him from the white sand, wagging their tails. Paul and his dogs have moved on and exist in a place beyond words or woofs. They’ve left cruelty behind.


©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writers: Poem – Bop – “The Hiding Place”  #amwriting #poetry #flashfiction #nature 


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting last week’s FFftAW. 

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Credit: Pamela S. Canepa

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Take me down to the places on hidden —

Paths let’s hike; the lush forest has bidden, 

That we heed her wild calls exploring. 

Let us find all nooks, crannies, and more, 

Let’s find the secrets in this forest, 

Masked for centuries, deep secrets unknown. 

Search for me where rocks pile high, where I’m free. 

This landscape has its hardships it’s paths —

Twisted and sometimes steep, but we climb past —

All obstacles, find glorious treasures. 

Unafraid in tranquil woods we measure, 

Distances by landmarks, certain trees, —

Curved trunks bowing; see nature’s masterpiece. 

Hiking as far as we can, giant rocks near, 

Hearing the river’s voice trickling clear. 

Search for me where rocks pile high, where I’m free. 

At night we lie on air mattresses we’re, 

Wrapped in sleeping bags, lost in our dreams. 

The river’s language a tongue we know, 

Then, the sun is high, breakfast made, we go —

To explore our secret, the enchanted world, 

Life is short, peaceful quiet it restores. 

Search for me where rocks pile high, where I’m free. 

———

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights a Reserved. 

Day 7 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/ Sunday Photo Fiction: Poem – Wrapped Refrain (2) – “Live Eagerly” #amwriting #poetry #NaPoWriMo #AtoZChallenge #flashfiction


Today’s NaPoWriMo challenge prompt is to write a poem about luck & fortuitousness. The A to Z Challenge GoodReads quote is from an author whose name begins with the letter F. 

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Credit: A Mixed Bag

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I think we consider too much the luck of the early bird and not enough the bad luck of the early worm. —Franklin D. Roosevelt

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You can see them swooping from the trees up high, they hope they’ll —

Find a tiny morsel, a scrap of food to eat, to sway —

Nature in their favour to —

Live another busy day through. 

Birds hoping to find worms to eat, 

Survival filled with such screeching

Wings drifting on the wind, their tweets now satisfied they ate —

Today was a lucky day, a game of chance they’re sated

——-

Fortune favours the brave so they say, but is it the brave —

Who triumph or their prey, having such a terrible bad day? 

However, we try, birds diving, 

Can’t save the fish from dying

The birds eat, fish already gone. 

Bad luck today, forever they’re gone. 

In the cliffs in the distance, I watch birds swiftly fly, 

Plunging, gliding higher, for soon they’ll be prey in sky.

—–

For fortune knows, on certain days we win and on others —

We lose, so the birds they’re a meal ticket too, so discovered, 

By bigger birds with talons sharp, 

By the ocean’s creature’s smart. 

Waiting for the birds to dive low, 

Then gulping them down, never slow. 

Call it the circle of life but it’s a necessary

You can see them, so survive while you can, live eagerly

——–

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Day 5 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge: Poem – A L’Arora – “Steps To Eternity” #amwriting #poetry #NaPoWriMo #AtoZchallenge


For Day 5, the NaPoWriMo poetry prompt is ” to write a poem that is based in the natural world: it could be about a particular plant, animal, or a particular landscape. But it should be a slice of the natural world that you have personally experienced and optimally, one that you have experienced often.” The accompanying A to Z Challenge today starts with a GoodRead’s author’s quote, with a name beginning with the letter E.


Forest Pathway NaNo
Credit: http://www.combiboilersleeds.com

“I’d rather have roses on my table than diamonds on my neck.” ― Emma Goldman


*****

Down the path of foliage, between all the trees,

It’s where I find my space, my home sweet home.

There’s something about crisp green leaves,

Wet after the rain, while the dew clings, not letting go.

With road passing through, steps to eternity,

Enthrall me in summer’s breath, the scent of the morning,

Let me stay in mother nature, her security.

*****

Tree branches entwining, limbs gripped with passion,

Used to the presence of parallel lovers.

They’re completely attached, unwilling to let go,

Nymphs holding fast, enraptured with each other,

With the road passing through, steps to eternity, 

Absorbing the thrill of the mid-summer fairy dance.

Let me stay in mother nature, her security.

*****

Some brilliant reckless person crafted this road,

Travelers speeding through trees, guarding the sacred path.

Some pause knowing they’ve discovered sanctuary,

Freedoms breeze, they’ll stop to admire the sentinels guarding.

With the road passing through, steps to eternity,

A place where verdant nature, holds a secret prosperity.

Let me stay in mother nature, her security.

*****

For hours I’ve wandered through lush trees,

Delicate roses growing, shadowed by dripping leaves.

Overcome am I, by epic beauty, of roses sweetly pink,

Crushing them in my hands, to absorb the memories.

With the road passing through, steps to eternity.

Inhaling the fragrance of aspiring life, in roses soft,

Let me stay in mother nature, her security. 

*****

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Finish Off Fridays/Saturday Mix: 25 Word Tale – True Leprechauns /Poem: Brevettes – “Illumination Lost” #amwriting #25WordTale #poetry #saturdaymix #finishofffridays


Thanks to Lorraine of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting FOF. Today’s prompt, a twenty-five word story on a leprechaun for St.Patrick’s Day/Weekend.

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Credit: Lorraine 2017

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He wasn’t wee, but tall. His eyes emeralds, auburn hair thick, and his smile knowing. His Irish accent had women pouncing; his treasure wasn’t gold. 

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Saturday Mix: Thanks to Lorraine from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Saturday Mix. Today’s Saturday Mix is a type of poetry called a Brevette.

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” ‘Created by Emily Romano, the brevette consists of a subject (noun), verb, and object (noun), in this exact order. The verb shows an ongoing action – so the letters in the verb should be spaced out. There are only three words in the poem.

Each of the three words may have any number of syllables, but it is desirable that the poem have balance in the choice of these words. Unlike haiku, there are no other rules to follow.'”

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Credit: Lorraine 2017

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Enchantress’

W A N D E R I N G

Thoughts.

——–

Branches

T R A N S L A T I N G

Leaves.

——-

Clouds

C O V E R I N G

Illumination.

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: A Force of Life #flashfiction #amwriting #nature


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

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Credit: Tim Livingston of TheForesterArtist

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It’s the lushest rainforest I’ve ever seen. If one could say Mother Nature had a life force it would be here, hidden within this vibrant foliage. For me green is the color of life and I think of the exotic creatures found here and I understand why environmentalists are vehemently protecting a forest full of wild animals and their habitats.

To imagine this brilliant life force gone would be painful. There is an ache in my heart picturing the dustlands of a destroyed forest, where nothing can regrow because of how horibly the soil has eroded, stripped of trees. Seeing this century old car buried randomly makes me curious of how the car ended up here; I imagine it’s a fabulous tale. But there’s no one here to tell that story, only me, and miles of greenery. Here in the womb of Mother Nature, one could disappear.

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

100 Word Wednesday: The Cost #amwriting #flashfiction #crime #100WordWednesday


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting #100WordWednesday.

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Credit: Toa Heftiba

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I’m seventeen and I wish I wasn’t old enough to understand what was happening through the trees.

There were five men laughing around a garbage can bonfire. The worst part was the two women crying and begging the men to stop as each man took turns with the women, raping them.

I knew I couldn’t intervene. I felt helpless but then I remembered my smartphone in my pocket. It had a camera with many megapixels and zoom.

Above the pandemonium no one heard me snap as many pictures as I could. I walked back to my house from the ravine and I called the police; they said I was a hero after.

The problem is some things in life you can’t unsee.

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Photo Challenge: Poem – Blank Verse – “The Nymphs’ Allure” #amwriting #poetry #mythology 


Thanks to NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s photo prompt.

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Credit: http://www.jwwaterhouse.com

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Come in, come play, the water’s warm and fine,

We’re all having fun, clothing  unnecessary.

Any nymph knows her body is pleasing.

But little we find young men who wander,

To visit us a while — let yourself rest.

Let your body be beguiled by us.

We’re girls full of laughter; blossoms —

To eat which are tasty and keep you near,

From leaving too soon; it’s a party here,

A never ending happy hour, wine flows —

From Dynosios cup; so drink up, sit back.

Time stands still and you’re forever a youth;

Caught in this moment, we’ll all feel —

Forever blissed; stay amongst us spirits,

Of the earth, of trees, grass, wood, and water.

We care for the forest, lush paths followed,

Hideaways, treasures, meant to last.

Gift of the gods, for us having beauty,

Like yours; but we offer you — explore.

Spend your eternity here, we see so few,

Such attractive men, so stay find pleasure,

Aid us keeping the world alive and safe.

For future generations, for our —

Children, and plenty of youthful men.

Your life could be dreamlike, could be blissful.

Come in, come play, the water’s warm and fine.

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.