Tale Weaver 118 – 4th May – Sunrise


New day has arrived
The sun is rising up
Had waffles with syrup
Black coffee so I thrived
Don’t let dry wood get rived
As the horses gallop

New possibilities
New hope so we can cope
I like a darker taupe
I like this morning’s breeze
As well as ham and cheese
Don’t know my horoscope

Looking forward today
A date in a cafe*

(c) ladyleemanila 2017

* The HexSonnetta, created by Andrea Dietrich, consists of two six-line stanzas and a finishing rhyming couplet with the following set of rules:

Meter: Iambic Trimeter
Rhyme Scheme: a/bb/aa/b c/dd/cc/d ee


For: Tale Weaver 118 – 4th May – Sunrise

Tale Weaver #117: Observations 27.04.17


“Be safe, Ate (big sister) and send us some chocolates!” and they were all standing there – my parents, my siblings, cousins and friends, waving me goodbye in the busy Manila International Airport. It was buzzing with activity; people were coming and going, full of excitement and anticipation, the voice on the public address system announcing that flight 112 is now boarding at gate 10 or calling for someone to go to the nearest courtesy phone. My heart skipped a beat and with a heavy sigh and trepidation, I looked back one last time before I proceeded to the check-in counter. I was 22, armed with a degree in Chemistry, enthusiastic to see what’s on the other side of the world, eager to find some adventure – my very own Wonderland.


How was it possible that she ended up here? She was so careful, followed the rules and took no risks whatsoever.

Pauline was looking forward to her holiday to Istanbul with her friend Janina. They seldom see each other and this holiday was planned for a long time. Janina booked her flight from Manchester and agreed to fly to London first so she could spend some time with Pauline before their flight to Istanbul. While they were packing their bags, Janina suggested they mix their stuff and bags in case some bags were lost or delayed, they’ve got at least some clothes from the other bag. Pauline agreed and packed their stuff.

At Istanbul airport, Pauline was surprised when the Customs asked her to open her suitcase. They checked it and took out Janina’s jewellery box. They asked her a lot of questions and she said it wasn’t hers, it’s her friend’s. They found some drugs hidden in it. By that time, Janina was nowhere to be found. And Pauline was arrested for a crime she didn’t commit. How could she ended up in Istanbul prison? What kind of a friend was Janina? How could she ever get out of this nightmare?

She was about to board the plane, close to tears and confused. He had brought her to the airport and the goodbye was not easy. They were only friends, but it felt like so much more. She knew what she felt for him but she also knew it would not be possible. He had only just lost his wife 10 months ago and was still grieving. Although there was some kind of chemistry between them, it could just not be. Probably she made it all up. But what if there was more? What if there was love? Would it be possible? She would never find out if she would set foot on the plane which was due to take her back to the other side of this planet.

They met at a dance. It was for the monarch’s reception of all expats working in Bangkok. Jessamine was wearing a cream gown with orange bow at the waist. She looked tantalisingly beautiful. That was the first time George saw her. He was wearing a dark blue suit with his grandfather’s pocket watch inside his vest. They danced and talked most of the night and found a lot of things in common. They went to the garden and enjoyed the fragrant flowers, quite oblivious to the rest of the party.

They met two days after for a coffee and became friends. They enjoyed each other’s company. Jessamine works at the British Consulate and was posted in Bangkok for 6 months. George has his own business there. His wife died 10 months ago and was still grieving. But then, Jessamine was falling for George. She had to pinch herself to remind herself that what she was feeling might not be the same for him. She was culpable for letting herself fall for him. She closed her eyes, applied some pressure to the eyeballs that produced phosphenes. Such luminous image. She knew then that she had to let him take his time to grieve. Perhaps one day…


It was the day of the travel. All suitcases were packed. “Passports, tickets, money,” Dad double checked everything. He had a list of things to do before leaving the house – lock the doors, unplug everything, leave keys to the neighbour. He ticked them as he went through them. Off they drove to the airport. They parked their car in the long-term parking lot.

The queue was long, people were coming and going. “Mum, I’ve got to go to the loo,” said Jamie. Dad took him there so they lost their place. This checking in proved to be so stressful!


For: Tale Weaver #117: Observations 27.04.17

Tale Weaver 116 – The Moon

Tale Weaver 116 – The Moon

photo by Michael

sleeplessly embracing you
and I am a female rebel
bedding with you, sticking like glue
you’ve got me under your spell
you and me, no one can foretell
no need for each other to woo

butterflies as well as needles
hunger of the pine tree, that’s it
raspberries and fruits of brambles
we’ll take it easy, never quit
walking hand in hand by moonlit
telling each other sweet babbles

For: Tale Weaver 116 – The Moon

O is for Octameter

O is for Octameter


Octameter, created by Shelley A. Cephas, is a poem made up of 16 lines divided into two stanzas of 8 lines each. Each line has a syllable count of 5. The set rhyme scheme is: a/b/c/d/e/d/f/d g/h/c/g/i/g/d/d.


Happy Unbirthday!

To me with such cheer

You’re all invited

Come with a plus one

Here in our garden

We’ll have lots of fun

No need to bring gifts

We’ll have a good run

We’re having a grill

Sausages and fish

Salad, fruit and spud

Lots of drinks all chill

Live band if you like

Gives us all the thrill

Lucky with the sun

Come all, no question!

(c) ladyleemanila 2017

For: Tale Weaver #115: unbirthdays 13.04.17, #AtoZChallenge – 4-18-2017 – Letter O , eighteenth day of NaPoWriMo

2017 Badge  napo2017button1

Tale Weaver No 114 – April 6 – Taste

the memory of eating with my hand
of fish and I have to take the bones off
when I first tasted wheat beer, a good quaff
the first meal that I cooked – that was so grand

when the son first cooked, that wasn’t planned
he cooked a mean curry and boy, I coughed
the memory of eating with my hand
of fish and I have to take the bones off

when I cooked something with cream, it was bland
bacon and ham sandwich, the lot we troughed
and sometimes, Houston we have a lift-off
but we always go back to where we land
the memory of eating with my hand*

* Rondel – a French form consisting of 13 lines: two quatrains and a quintet, rhyming as follows: ABba abAB abbaA. The capital letters are the refrains, or repeats.

For: Tale Weaver No 114 – April 6 – Taste, twenty-seventh day of NaPoWriMo


Tale Weaver/Fairy Tale #113: the quest 30.03.17

Tale Weaver/Fairy Tale #113: the quest 30.03.17

A couple of quest tales from my archive.


It was a story of strength
A quest to an ancient ground
Where the spirit of darkness lived
A dragon guarded the treasure
Defiant resistance to the game
The sparks of amethyst laid
In front of the hearth
And so was Prinsesa Mayumi
Waited for her knight
Few men and knights tried
But to no avail, dragon won
From steely blue skies
A white charged horse
Descended from the clouds
Prinsipe Makisig to the rescue
And so he slayed the dragon
Saved the princess and they kissed
Took all the amethyst and treasure
And they wed to the delights of all


Life is precious, I can claim that
Take it as going to a combat
The endless quest or can I say struggle?
I know I should be grateful
Some rare threads of graceful living
In a beautiful beach basking
Brief erotic relationship
Travelling by plane or by ship
How come I feel empty inside?
When you left and I cried
I want to be fed in my roots
Express to me my attributes
I visualise my life as I speak
I can play hide and seek

For: Tale Weaver/Fairy Tale #113: the quest 30.03.17

At a crack of dawn

At a crack of dawn


Staggered out of bed at a crack of dawn
As he stretch his arm and have a huge yawn
Too much spirit, never again, he promise
As he could be a stubborn or annoying cuss
Awake at a strange place in a tilted angle
Ah, her soft voice stopped his babble
Then smile at the thought of last night
They had a good time, as he was her knight
Hampered by clothes astray in the room
He’s got to be there again and they resume
Instinct says he needs some fresh breeze
And can he have a cup of coffee, please?

For: Tale Weaver #111: the lighter side 16.03.17, Instinct

Other “instinct” posts: