Walk in the shadow of the night – 100 Word Wednesday: Week 23

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Image Credit Jesse Williams

Walk in the shadow of the night in trance
Give me a chance to whisper like a wind
Like I was pinned within touch with romance
At the entrance of the diner with grin
Rancid water ridged with ripples
Touched by angels on the altar
Such a delight when I saw you
Who I knew was my knight
And a miracle so to speak
You kissed my cheek which made it right
Then you ignite like cliff-hanger
Like a myrrh of the night
Hand in hand we wander on the street
In your blue suit and my polka dot dress

(c) ladyleemanila 2017

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For: 100 Word Wednesday: Week 23, Wordle 303 Jun 10 by brenda warren

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Tweet! – Ladylee’s Photo Prompt #1

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Tweet
Birds feeding
On their way down south
From the window I see them
Birds
Silhouettes against heavens
Flock of birds flying
Sky circling
Tweet!*

(c) ladyleemanila 2017

* Oddquain is a short, usually unrhymed poem consisting of seventeen syllables distributed 1, 3, 5, 7, 1 in five lines, developed by Glenda L. Hand.

oddquain butterflies – a “merged mirror oddquain” where the two stanzas of a mirror oddquain are merged together, one of the middle 1 syllable lines is dropped, resulting in one nine line stanza of the form 1-3-5-7-1-7-5-3-1. Please note that a oddquain butterfly is not a “oddquain” because it doesn’t have five lines, but it is “butterfly” made up of two oddquains that were merged together into one poem.

For: Ladylee’s Photo Prompt #1

Puncture – Daily Prompt

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When we first got married, Him Indoors and I visited the Philippines. We flew to Bicol, one of the provinces in the north of the Philippines and on the way back, flights were cancelled. Instead of waiting for the next flight which could be the next day or the next week, things could be very flexible in the Philippines. Anyway, we decided to take the bus to Manila. Everyone seemed to have the same idea. The bus station was full of people, chickens, pigs, children, cargoes, you name it, they were there, chaos! We ended up being in a decrepit, no air-con bus. We had to stand the first couple of hours. Did I mention that the bus was so full, people were literally hugging each other, not forgetting all the chickens, pigs, baskets of fruits and vegetables, etc. There was a stop – wheel fell off. We waited 3 hours for the man to get nuts in another town. We stood by the side of the road in the middle of the night. People started getting out, so we were able to sit. Then we stopped the second time – puncture on one of the tyres. Another wait. After that, the driver raced another bus along the motorway with a horse and a cart in the slow lane. Never again, we promised. Such a bus experience!

For: Puncture

Other “puncture” posts:
https://andsoitisborn.wordpress.com/2016/08/19/the-way-it-ends/
https://curioushart.wordpress.com/2017/06/14/puncturing-the-ego/
https://megsdailymusings.wordpress.com/2017/06/14/heartbreaking-love-songs/
https://bysarahwhiley.wordpress.com/2017/06/14/the-bike-riding-face/
https://kijopoem.wordpress.com/2017/06/14/return-to-earth/

Rondelet of Love

Thirty one years
They are not perfect but they’re ours
Thirty one years
Gone through a lot of cheers and tears
Seen a lot of sunsets and stars
Together we write our memoirs
Thirty one years*

(c) ladyleemanila 2017

* The Rondelet is a French form consisting of a single septet with two rhymes and one refrain: AbAabbA. The capital letters are the refrains, or repeats. The refrain is written in tetra-syllabic or dimeter and the other lines are twice as long – octasyllabic or tetrameter.

My favourite place – FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2017 WEEK #25

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https://www.pexels.com/photo/architecture-bookcase-books-bookshelves-300412/

I love this place. It’s my favourite place when I want to be alone. There’s something about this library that makes me feel I’m in a trance. The mass of books with atlases, road maps, novels, plays, bits and pieces and news. These books are my friends and companions. They show me interesting things, talk to me and sometimes chant and rant after the first block of information. Like I need to know more, like looking for a treasure hunt, one bit of evidence at a time. And as I read them, I’m being relocated to a totally new world. Where am I again?

For: FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2017 WEEK #25

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