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Day 15 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/Tale Weavers: Poem – Italian Sonnets – “Unbirthday Hell En Medias Res” #poetry #NaPoWriMo #AtoZchallenge #taleweavers


Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to write poem in the middle of things en medias res. The A to Z Challenge GoodRead’s Quote is for the letter N. The Tale Weavers Prompt courtesy of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie is to write about an unbirthday. 

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Credit: Not on The HighStreet Enterprises – http://www.notonthehighstreet.com

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I grew up in this town, my poetry was born between the hill and the river, it took its voice from the rain, and like the timber, it steeped itself in the forests. — Pablo Neruda

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Serve me tea and cut the cake quickly please,

Ensure my tea is cold with no odd hares. 

Or rabbit fur, or door mouse flees their. 

My unbirthday, she is here — the tease

She comes most everyday to say ‘breathe!’ 

You’re not old yet, many unbirthdays left,

Hold your years close to your beating chest.

You look like twenty-five, oh please

Each and everyday there is chocolate cake, 

Loud parties; a mad hatter who is weird,

Yes, the craziesness gets to me some days.

The party is brilliant, but I always peer,

For an escape home en medias res. 

Alice is happy with one birthday day. 

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So back to the town, back to my hills, 

No more unbirthdays? Mind left reeling;

Alice’s leaving Wonderland? Sad feeling. 

Pictures on walls here are hung straight — be still, 

To think on leafy forests dear, woods filled. 

The voice of the rain as it falls and it glows, 

But I’m too drawn to rabbit holes at will. 

Back amidst glamorous parties thrown, 

Having left peace a mere second ago, 

The town brook,  seems a mellenia’s dream.

Same crew in Wonderland serving tea. 

Too hot, too cold, to much cake makes me grow, 

Back to unbirthday hell — un medias res. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Flash Fiction, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Sunday Photo Fiction: Wonderland 


Alicia Baker was going for her regular Sunday morning run into the river valley when she came upon a large white rabbit sitting still. The rabbit turned to look at her and stared at Alicia as he wiggled his nose. It was then she noticed a pocket watch clipped to his fur and if she was really honest, Alicia would tell you she thought the rabbit was inclining his head at her as if he wanted her to follow him. But Alicia would never admit to such imaginary notions. 

She picked up speed in her Lululemon running pants and top and started to run away from the rabbit. All was well until she stumbled onto a large hole in the ground. She stood at the prepice of the hole when that strange white rabbit with his pocket watch stood up and pushed her in the hole. 

Memories assaulted Alicia as she fell forever ending up in a familiar place she couldn’t quite identify. She saw the white rabbit again and angrily cried, “Wait.” But the rabbit kept pace ahead of her and as she followed it she heard a dreaded voice, a voice she hoped to never hear again. 

” Whose been painting my roses red?” 

Alicia now fully aware where she had fallen to, imagined roasting a rabbit over a spit. She ran her hands through her blond hair in frustration and remembering it was her unbirthday stomped off in search of a Mad Hatter, in need of cakes and tea. She’d done it again, she’d fallen into Wonderland.

  
Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting Sunday Photo Fiction.