when nature entertains…

foreign names

let faith lead

My Love Of This Café- Friday Fictioneers 10/26

Friday fictioneers is up and running this week many thanks to our new host Rochelle, who has so kindly taken over from Madison Woods. Her photo this week sent my heart racing with smiles…I love cafés, and every little thing about them. So I tried to channel that into my fictional  story, and then added a poem as a bonus. As always comments and constructive crticisms are welcome, and please feel free to join in and participate. THANK YOU ALWAYS!

Image courtesy of Rochelle

Oh how I love nifty little cafés…the sights…the aromas…sizzling hot coffee…warm buttered croissants… delicately soft chocolate marble pound cakes…raspberry tarts…need I say more?

Every morning, I stop by just to take in the entirety of this particular café, soft music floating around in the air with the smells, the ever friendly servers, and then there’s one…one I really like…piercing brown eyes taking my brave soul captive…my intentions completely exposed…I can’t help myself around him…

More so, when he picks up his guitar and does an impromptu performance…my mind wanders straight into his arms, and all I can think of is him…sweetly serenading my lobes…as we sip coffee…legs wrapped around each other in suspension, after a long day of loving.

POEM- WHERE OUR SWEET LOVE WENT WRONG

Alone with my thoughts
I sit
Blindly staring out
This coffee house window

Painfully I wonder
Where our sugar and spice
Sweetly made crepess with sprinkles
On top love and contagious desire
Went wrong

This coffee house serves as
The only reminder of what once was
Quiet and lonely views
From (y)our favorite booth
Now responding to me in whispered echoes

Tears falling down the window
Of my broken soul

A New Beginning-Friday Fictioneers 10/19

Friday fictioneers courtesy of Madison Woods is on again, and this week’s photo is provided by Ron Pruitt. I have come up with a poem of about 40 words, I can’t bring myself to think at all, because I am battling a yucky cold.  As always feel free to join in and participate. THANK YOU!

Image courtesy of Ron Pruitt

A new journey soon begins
The final destination albeit unknown
His past and hurts, he now leaves behind
Fuzzy sights set on a future so bright
He hopes to God
On this move he is right
As he quietly boards the Jefferson lines

The Passage- Friday Fictioneers 10/12

Friday Fictioneers courtesy of Madison Woods is up and running again this week, and the week’s photo is courtesy of Jan Morrill. I have come up with a short story of a little over 100 words. Please feel free to participate as always…thank you!

Image courtesy of Jan Morrill

The swift steps were getting closer as he continued to run. His heart racing with every quickened pace…he knew they would eventually catch up to him, but if he could make it to the passage…it just might be his escape route…or his dying…he refused to finish the thought.

He had only stolen the bread because his pregnant wife was hungry…he didn’t mean to hurt anyone. He was wrong for stealing, but to pursue him in such rage; with axes and all manner of weapons while screaming “thief! Thief! Burn him!” was barbaric…

Tripping on nothing in particular…he fell to knees, tears streaming down his horror stricken face as the rowdy mob cornered him in the passage…

*Dedicated to the memory of #ALUU4

 

A Room For Mommy- Friday Fictioneers 10/05

It’s that time of the week again. Friday fictioneers by Madison Woods, and this week’s photo is courtesy of Raina Ng. I saw the prompt yesterday, and I thought oh wow! This is just lovely, and immediately wrote something…but then the dark side of creativity took over, and I don’t know that I can share that story.

Anyhow, my offering this week is a short story. Please feel free to comment, and offer constructive criticism. As always you are welcome to join and participate. Prompts like this help the creative juices flow. THANK YOU!!!

Image courtesy of Raina Ng

Enid looked at the magazine one last time, as she kissed mommy’s forehead…“I promise to buy this for you” she whispered, “just get well soon, please!”

Mommy could barely move. Her body frail from sickness and penury was feeble, and debilitated. However she managed to mumble incoherently.

Two days later, in her sleep she passed away in Enid’s tired arms.

That was 15 years ago.

Now, a successful surgeon, and cancer advocate, Enid looked at this room dedicated to mommy’s memory in her sprawling suburban home.

She was a long way from her lowly background. If only Mommy was here to see it all…the success…the room just like in that magazine…just as she had promised…

A cold breeze blew gently warming Enid’s heart. She smiled softly…

Enid could feel mommy’s presence!