Springtime

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Puffy grass like a goose down duvet

resplendent with daisies, yellow dandelions,

buttercups and a myriad of wildflowers

that flourish without care,

poppies that pop up everywhere,

sacred earth preserves their seeds

since the beginning of time,

all they need is rain and sunshine,

after a short period of rest of in Gaia’s belly,

a message of hope and prosperity

for mankind to understand the eternal cycle

to cherish and to protect it with care

for the next generations.

Happy Easter Everyone!

 

This is a re-post from last year. 🙂

Bewitched

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red hair photoshop

It was her sea-green eyes
that melted his heart
at first, but then
the strawberry lips,
curled into a smile,
the flaming locks
cascading down
her golden frock

On the night of the spring equinox
he knew he was possessed,
as shafts of silver moonlight
danced upon her face and dress,
her eyes beamed and a slender ivory-skinned arm
reached for his hand-
he blinked,
blaming the wayward breeze and the moon
that played tricks on his eyes

He wished she were here,
wished he could find her,
the maiden who posed
for the artist whose
lines and colours made her real.

Photo details: I couldn’t find a painting that represents the character in the poem. So, I found a photo of the lovely Isolda Dychauk as Lucrezia Borgia and photoshopped it. 🙂

Paws and Claws

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Video :  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PZoKYzVMC64

Blog:   https://cakeandquill.wordpress.com/2017/04/01/out-now-paws-and-claws/

“It’s the first of April, and unlike the rest of the world we’re absolutely serious. So, no, it’s not a joke – our latest anthology, Paws and Claws, is out and available. Filled with all sorts of creatures, furry, fluffy, slimy, scaled, winged, weird, it tells you stories to make you laugh, make you cry, and make you wonder. As announced, all proceeds will go to Bob’s House for Dogs, a small charity that offers hospice care for older dogs,helps making senior dogs ‘more adoptable’, and ultimately works to try and give more dogs who have found themselves without a home, a forever home.

Hopefully you’ll enjoy reading it as much as we enjoyed writing and compiling it! It’s on Amazon, in e-book as well as in paperback format. Perfect Easter present, isn’t it?

Get in the mood by watching the trailer!”

I have a story in there, my first ever ‘literally’ published work.

 
A Cake & Quill collection. Authors are: Tina Rath, Angelika Rust, Adam Oster, Jay Robbins, Yvonne Marjot, Tom Greenwood, Faye Kename, Paula Shene, Hannah Warren, Sue Moorhouse, Pat Black, Kate Murdoch, Karen Eisenbrey, Cindra Spencer, Sebnem Sanders.

FICTION — The Song of Spring

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My story, The Song of Spring was published by Twisted Sister Lit Magazine. The events are based on a true story, but all details are imaginary.

Source: FICTION — The Song of Spring

The Healer

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 A woman’s story for Women’s Day and Women’s History Month

Amber left the last town behind her, deciding village life would be better for her. All she wanted to do was to help people with her gift, but it always back-fired. After the gossip and slander, she had ended up as an outcast. The medical authorities criticized her, calling her a charlatan, a witch, and a quack with a sick mind. The people she healed were grateful and awarded her with donations though she never asked for a fee. Going from town to town, she sometimes stopped at fair grounds and practised her clairvoyance skills. She would sit in a stall and feel the people before they walked in. A single glance into their eyes told her their stories and their future, a future sometimes she felt she should not impart.

She arrived at a charming seaside village called Mermaid’s Cove and strolled down the narrow cobbled streets, looking around. Not too big, not too small, this is just fine. A two-storey stone house with an overgrown garden came into view. She felt sadness coming through its windows. The drapes drawn tight across. The front door looked forlorn, its paint chipped and splintered, colour faded. An estate agent’s sign caught her attention and she stepped in.

“I’m looking for a house to rent. The stone house around the corner, is it available? It looks deserted.”

“No, madam, that house is occupied. A lady lives there with her daughter. I have a small cottage by the woods if you’d like. It’s in perfect condition and has a lovely garden.”

When Amber saw the cottage of honey-coloured stone and a thatched roof, she fell in love and rented it. In the village, she bought a bicycle, some provisions, and returned to spend her first night in her new home. Before she went to sleep, thoughts crossed her mind. Never deal with people, again. A castaway in a sea-side village, that’s what I’m going to be.

The new day dawned with the sounds of nature. Birds chirping, a squirrel munching nuts on a tree by the open window. She stood and watched, inhaling the sweet aroma of the herbs and blossoms. Sitting in the garden with a cup of tea, she observed her new surroundings vibrant with the activity of the flora and the fauna.

Over the following days, Amber discovered herbs in the meadows and the forest she could make her potions from. She called all animals in distress to her garden. They came, with their injured limbs, wounds, bites, and many birds with broken wings. She healed them applying her lotions and treatments, gave them love and set them free once they recovered from their ailments.

The children of the village visited her garden and saw the animals recuperating. They called her Lady Healer, and brought their pets in need of attention. Amber told them stories about the animals and the therapeutic plants that helped them. The word spread with the wind and even the village Vet brought her cases he had difficulties dealing with. Sometimes she went along with him to farms in the neighbourhood and helped him diagnose the problems.

One day a woman came to her door. Amber took one look at her and knew she was the lady who owned the stone house in the village.

“Hi,” she said, “Can I help you?”

“I believe you can.”

“You’re in pain. Someone close to you is in distress.”

“Can you help, please?”

“I only deal with animals, not with people.”

“But you’re a healer, aren’t you?”

“That’s what people say. I try to help the animals in pain. People hurt me if I perform healing on them.”

“I understand how some people can be cruel and ungrateful. If I tell you I have spent a fortune trying to cure my daughter’s addiction, would you believe me?”

“I can see it, yet, like I said …”

“If I tell you she’s only twenty-eight, her teeth are falling from crack cocaine and she only weighs forty-five kilos, would you consider it? I’ve tried everything. Psychologists, psychiatrists, rehab, acupuncture, hypnotism … nothing worked. Meanwhile, I have sold and spent the funds from four properties. My house here is the last property I own, inherited from my parents. If I don’t give her money, she goes into prostitution. She’s had three abortions, and the last one was after five months of pregnancy. Murder, but that baby would never be normal. If I give her money, she indulges. Please help.”

Amber looked at the mother’s anguished face and pondered. “Does she want to be healed? If not, nothing will work.”

“She does, yet doesn’t want to go through any of the treatments again.”

Amber sighed, this was a test. “If she does, she must come here and tell me. I have one condition. No one must know.”

“You have my word. I’ll never tell anyone. Thank you.”

Jade, the young woman with a hazy, green gaze showed up at Amber’s doorstep the next morning. Her eyes spoke, yet Amber needed to hear it.

“Help me, please.”

“I need an assistant to look after my animals, convalescing. They need love and care. Can you do it, regularly, on my schedule?”

“I love animals.”

“Good. Follow me.”

Amber showed her the herbs and plants stacked in jars on the shelves in the kitchen, and instructed her about their therapeutic qualities. Marigold, coriander, lemon balm, mint, mullein, thyme, oregano, rosemary, lavender, chamomile, St John’s wort, capers, sage, nettles and wild mushrooms. Then, her herbal mixtures for different remedies. Afterwards, she made a list for Jade’s chores.

Each day before Jade left, Amber gave a her a cup of herb tea. A week later, Jade’s eyes looked brighter, her skin fresh and youthful. She was good with the animals, she spoke their language.

At the end of three months, Jade, completely rehabilitated, continued her education to become a veterinary physician, and helped Amber with the animals during her school-breaks.

Amber cycled down to the harbour, sat on a bench and watched the sea. Castaway on a fishing village to save a soul …

Anemone

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Photo source: http://www.flowermeaning.com/anemone-flower-meaning/

 

 

Daughters of the wind

purple and  pink

dew drops

reflecting the beauty within

spring is on its way

my heart is stuck in winter

dark, weary and uninspired

what will it take to move it again,

why the melancholia of purple

than the hope from pink?

my dreams have sunk

into the pools of depression

no sunshine seems to revive

why has everything gone wrong

when I was

ready to go?

Light and Dark

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light-and-dark

It was a time of ignorance

and a time of enlightenment

an era of awareness

and one of darkness

The enlightened sought

the light in the heavens and beyond

the ignorant worked in darkness

setting light to the treasures of the enlightened,

all buildings, books, works of art and heritage

were demolished under the axes of the demons of darkness

yet, everything remained in the collective memory of the Light-workers

The dark demons built high walls around the prisons

where the Light-workers were confined

Speaking was forbidden, even looking eye to eye

The prisoners who broke the law

had their tongues cut and eyes removed

The blinded and muted Light-workers

developed a communication skill

of transferring thoughts without speaking or eye-contact

Waves of thoughts travelled in the air

while the dark demons carried out their atrocities unaware

The frequencies of thoughts became so high and powerful,

deafening the dark demons who

failed to complete their mission of destruction,

as the wavelength of thoughts

damaged their sensory systems

Unable to move or act, they lay still on the ground

The Light-workers fed their minds with ideas and

knowledge  about the planet and the universe,

theories of law and justice for all,

science, art, history, philosophy, and

awareness of nature and the balance of creation

Dark-workers awoke with the beam of enlightenment

in their eyes.

They learned to communicate without speaking,

seeing beyond the perceived and feeling without using their senses.

Dark-workers became Light-workers

moving humanity into a new dimension

of enlightenment.

Still, some Dark-workers remained,

in the periphery of humanity,

scheming plans to carry out their dark intentions,

to make a revolution to change the world.

Light-workers ambushed them and built high walls around their towns

so that they would stay confined within their own surroundings

unable to infect their backward ideas into the enlightened zone.

The angels in the heavens watched the humans in dismay,

“When will they learn?” they asked their Leader, the wisest of All.

“Only when they discover grey, against the black and white.

It will take time, but I have hopes for my children.”

My Shadow and Me

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I like walking with my shadow ahead of me.

She is taller than me, slimmer than me.

Her neck is more slender, she has no face, just a silhouette.

I like walking with my shadow in front of me

Her graceful figure accompanies me during my stroll by the sea

I enjoy her company

I hadn’t seen her for a while, she is so full of life.

I must have caught the sun behind me at the right time.

Is she me or is she a reflection of me?

If the sun wasn’t at a certain angle,

I would have missed her.

She disappears in the shades,

then reappears when I’m back under the sun.

I can see her long legs,

even her feet below the Capri pants she’s wearing.

 

Will she be here tomorrow, or will she vanish forever?

I must catch her at the right time or I’ll never see her again.

Where do shadows go when the sun moves?

Do they travel to Shadowland?

If she’s a part of me, do I go, as well?

Will I see her tomorrow?

Will I be here tomorrow?

Or will I also disappear into the Land of the Shadows?

 

There are many other shadows

They reflect the forms they copy and repeat

They have no faces, just elongated outlines

that appear temporarily.

I’d like to walk again with my shadow before me

My shadow and I are the same

The Kiss

An old post for Valentine’s Day! 🙂

sebnemsanders

The-Kiss  

Gustav Klimt (July 14, 1862 – February 6, 1918)

Among the many pictures

etched in my memory,

not all of them speak to me,

tell me stories or inspire me

to write new ones

this one depicts an eternal moment

of an embrace and a kiss

between a man and a woman

wrapped in a shimmering blanket of gold,

embroidered with a kaleidoscope of beads

Like the hews of the once vibrant carpet at their feet,

the painter, the models and

the influential patchwork have faded into the past,

yet the painting remains

to remind us of that first moment of bliss

between a lover and his beloved

carrying the sparkle of love

into eternity forever.

 

 

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