Midsummer Mischmasch: Unrequited Summer by Mandy Melanson
We had so many great entries for the Midsummer Mischmasch contest, our judges had a hard time choosing their favorites. Today’s special delivery comes from Mandy Melanson, whose Shakespearean poetry took 3rd place in our contest. Enjoy!
(PS Wondering who won? Buy a copy of our literary journal today to find out! )
Mandy Melanson is a single, stay-at- home mother of 3 home-schooled children. Her love of the written word began when her mother would read her bedtime stories. This love of fictional worlds has traveled with her throughout her life. She has been a writer since the age of 7 years old when she wrote her first short story “Jane the Tiger.” It was written on construction paper in crayon, but that was the moment she knew what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. Currently, she is studying English and aspires to become a state certified teacher who can ignite a fire in others for creative writing and language, while inspiring others through the worlds she creates on the page.
She has published her first short story, and her first poetry compilation “The Mind of the Muse” available on Amazon. She is currently working on two full length manuscripts. In the meantime, she posts her flash fiction and poetry on her blog and the Facebook writing groups RhetoricAskew where they are also working on their first group anthology, and Elements of Genre Writing. She loves to connect and share with other like-minded followers of fiction.
Beauty captivates, nary enduring.
Delicate onwendedness breaks resolve.
Unwilling to yield my heart’s true mooring;
further apart, as our world doth revolve.
The stars stell constant in opposition.
Eternal warmth to be Earth’s reception.
I shall reclaim my rightful position,
as I take her for my own possession.
Frigid nights taketh breath away.
December’s defenses, mustn’t ignore.
Alternate ends of one distressed cord, fray
the ends of bitter sanity no more.
Whilst secreting away thine own virtue,
favour from thee I dare to hope is true.
A captive I have taken. Withering
heat over all the world, I shall unfurl.
My choices; I find myself dithering.
Watching as beautiful floral vines curl,
a canvas painted through sunlight and rain,
I yearn for thy soft, gentle company.
Desires for white veils bound by love, restrained.
Foolishly, I wish to accompany
my love in this dance of varied seasons.
If I release the object I now crave,
I would abandon all sense and reason.
I must repent; in my shame I do pray
forgiveness from thee to honestly find.
I will see thee again in a year’s time.
©2016 Mandy Melanson
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