Somewhere – Stories by 5

Zephira draws up her mandolin. A few gentle strums of its strings lets loose the amora of fall leaves and vanilla. Her head lowers beyond sight. The air rushes by suddenly perishing dreams of Summer. Her words turn staccato like piano notes. I resist with all my might.

A distant cello joins in with her melody. The world bends to her. Maybe tomorrow, I’ll slip back to where I belong. The world is so small within the looking glass.

Moth Catches Flame

Fires dance in your eyes

My inner candle begins melting 

Promises of possibilities flutter about 

Whispers of thoughts 

Things I long for versus need 

Enticing moves stir images 

“What ever your desire” falls to ears 

No lips move, no sound travels 

But still my ears are full 

Gentle hands sweep through my dreams 

Reality never holds trust of fantasy 

Within the dreams I wander paths 

Where no footsteps are needed

Interface is between two faces 

Elegance replaces beauty 

The moth grabs the flame

Mist of Dreams

Mist of my dreams swirl

Spinning like a kaleidoscope 

Am I looking back

Like the stats in telescope

Or forward in Crystal ball

Happy blue skies pave paths

Tall trees throw twisted shadows 

Nothing is as it seems 

Everything is exactly as it appears 

Lines of sight tug gently 

Filaments of thoughts resist 

Delightful mess spills across fantasy 

Which parts will I miss?

Which parts to cling to? 

Time slides through hidden hourglass

Slowly I realize what never was

Has always been waiting with what was

Inside Thoughts

I wantto take your breath away.

I watchyou move completely 

My mind locked on every part

My eyes flash to keep up

Your body converts to road map

Some curves are far more dangerous 

At least in my view from here

You’re an addiction wanting to hook me

I linger on thoughts of being emerged

Photo Challenge -Tea leaves

I bask in her warmth.  My mind holds those moments that are special because they are our moments.   There is a certain calmness that stills my heart.  

The night drifts by.  Time is a ceiling fan counting by whoosh sounds.   Light stays at bay. 

My dreams morph.   Subtly I’m drawn away.  Her face warn and kind grows.   Her smile looks more relaxed.  I twist to better see whay keeps me whole.

The warmth returns. Strange white shiny walls curve up from below. I feel like am burning.  Parts of me break free and float off.  Her smile twists more profound.  

Being someone cup of tea is not always good

Drifting Away

I watch you drift 

Each passage leads you further 

You never look back 

Currents toy with your ambition

Eddies await to swirl your direction

On shore, any hope floats past you

Your empty hands only reach from afar 

Past the length of any arm 

Tomorrow you will out out again 

The tides await your efforts 

Again I’ll watch to see if you return 

We dance until the chord breaks 

The waves drowned the sound 

Until the horizon welcomes you 

 I’ll still be on the shore 

Waiting to see where you’ll go

Wordle – Fuzzy Thought

1. Cloud

2. Crumble

3. Flight
4. Ambedo ((n.) a kind of melancholic trance in which you become completely absorbed in vivid sensory details—raindrops skittering down a window, tall trees leaning in the wind, clouds of cream swirling in your coffee—which leads to a dawning awareness of the haunting fragility of life.)
5. Blackberry
6. Dazzle
7. Switch
8. Tide
9. Care
10. Voracious
11. Eminent ((adj.) high in station, rank, or repute; prominent; distinguished: conspicuous, signal, or noteworthy: lofty; high: prominent; projecting; protruding.)
12. Misbehave
Use at least 10 of the words to create a story or poem
The words can appear in an alternate form
Use the words in any order that you like.
Tag: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie and Wordle

My clouded mind crumbles.  Tides of care take flight and dazzle my ambedo mood. Voracious blackberries take eminent roles.  They misbehave in whispers leading me from my troubles.

Writing Prompt #189 Dreams Impossible

“There’s a yak.  The thing is huge, as tall as a windmill.  I’m asking it about the used bookstore down the street.  The one with the green exit doors.  So this is where it gets weird….” Larry pauses to recollect the thought. 

“Not weird at all.  You fell into a MC Esther print. Did you take the upstairs to the basement or fire escape to the roof?” Penny hates the dream game.

“I’m talking to the yak and this hand appears behind him.  It is closed like there’s something in the hand.  The wrist flicks up and marbles fly everywhere!”  Larry moves his hand to demonstrate. “Then this Viking goddess starts winding a old phonograph that plays a song about doing absurd things to achieve impossible things.  Oh, the goddess has only a head and arms.”

“How do you know she was a Viking goddess?  Maybe she was part of a dance troupe.  Would a Viking goddess have a record player?” Penny knows this is the way it goes every time.

“You’re right.   She would have done kind of stringed instrument… Wait, she’s a goddess.  They live forever.” Larry stumbles on reason.

“Good, you figured it out.  Don’t sleep again, please.”  Penny answers “I have tried the absurd and haven’t accheived  any impossible results.”

Written as part of a challenge details are available at https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/12/04/writing-prompt-189-bonus/

Voyage into the New World

I sail a black Sea

Stars burn as centuries

They hold  the sky in place

I ride stone waves of ancient seas

My path among the darkness

New lights shine in the distance

Waiting to see them is painful

Faith tells me they glow like Sun drops

High above the Valley is my new world

I pass through portals  of time 

Time fails to notice me

My sea parts smoothly

Here at the future

Quicksand

I’m sinking in your quagmire

Pretending it means something

Pretense that it mattered

I falter in the act of hope

An act of solo solidarity 

Me-and-my-shadow-esque

Solid ground gives after belief dies

Pillars of marble splinter to fill

When the glass has been taken

The Winoow is called a hole in the wall

My foundation was built on pixie dust 

Dreams live only where hope and belief dance

The record player is quiet

The band has the day off

I strive to build a bridge

You’ve burnt away the forest

An empty field is what  we share

The grass has been pastured

Stubble and rain of tears is left

The fragility of life is a measure

What we need and want

And what we do to keep it

The pixie dust has consumed me

Your quagmire turned quicksand