#RomanticTuesday #Love #Poetry – Amidst the Candlelight

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Amidst the Subtle Candlelight

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Hush

In the Restless Tide of Night

Brush

My cheek with Your Fervent Kiss’s Delight

Sigh

In Love’s most Passionate Devotion

Lie

Beside me in the Shifting Shadows Deep Ocean

Entrance

Me with Your Ardent Love’s Chivalry

Romance

Me Until Time Slips into Eternity

For Only Then

And Only There

Amidst the Blush of sweet Candlelight

Shall we Find the Pure Contentment

Of Delicate Night

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~Morgan~
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Beautiful Original Artwork by: Mark Spain

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#MusicandMuseMonday – When Fear Bows

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Whisper Memory that Breathes

through the Softest Echoes of Rhyme,

Hearts Singing like rustling leaves

Amidst the tempests of rancorous Time;

Hearken now to the Voice of of Calm

Tranquility Interposing the restless Sea,

Wordless caress of shapeless Balm

Soothing strife and calamity;

Touch the Hand of Possibility

Through the Hush that wordlessly Brings

Delicate Splendor of Intrepidity

Soaring High upon the Ethereal Wings

Of Chance
Of Courage
Of Belief that Sees

When Fear bows low
Hope’s Mystery Frees!

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The Music and Muse category by Morgan shares Poetry and the Music which Inspired it.

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~Morgan~

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Beautiful Original Music by Thomas Bergersen

 

 

Silent Cacophony – #Meditative #Poetry

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Wide Expanse,
Breaking Extremes
River of Tumbling Monotony,
Deluge of cacophony,
Through Silent Intrepidity,
Whisper in the Tranquil night
A Song to echo Infinity
While Sorrows stream from blackened Sight
A talisman of Surety;

Sing sweet Song
Wield your Harmony
Beyond the shores of Extremity
Into the Bliss of Infinity
As Night turns into golden day
And Light subdues her Amber rays
Sing lilting messenger of Gold
Into the masses
Into the wold
Of tempestuous struggles that fret and mire
Sing Sweet Song
and Never Tire!

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~Morgan~

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Beautiful Original Photography found on Pinterest.  Credit Gratefully Acknowledged to the Original Photographer.   Thank You ~

 

#FridayFantasy #Quiz – Which Fey are you?

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Ever wonder who you would be if you were a character in Dark Fey? I’ve just created a fun way for you to find out 😉

Just click this link to Discover Which Dark Fey You Are

Want to learn more about each character? Visit the Official Dark Fey Website

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~Morgan~

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#FridayFantasy – Shadows of Reality – #Relevant #Epic #Fantasy

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I woke up this morning to another truly lovely Review for Dar Fey. The Blessings continue to blossom, for which I am eternally grateful!
“The Reviled also called the Dark Ones have grown up and suffered some of the worst conditions. They have been kidnapped from their homes where they lived and were formerly a Fey of Light…… Although fantasy, this story dealt with a lot of the issues the world is facing today. I commend the author for shedding some light through her gifted and awe-inspired writing skills.”
#5Stars!
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~Morgan~

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The Whisper of the Breeze – #Spirituality & #Poetry

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The Whispers of the Breeze
Speaks Silence to my Heart,
In Shades of Indigo Brilliance
And Bright Luminous Mists of Tranquil Blue,
Speaking of Sweet Mystery,
Uttering Paradoxes, Timeless and True.
Unfettered upon this Whisper of Air,
Unchained from Grief, from Doubt, from Despair,
Into the Realms of Pearlescent Dreams,
Glittering Incomprehensibility Streams.

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~Morgan~
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Beautiful Photograph found at HDQwide.com. Credit Gratefully Acknowledged to the Original Photographer. Thank You~

 

The Tapestry of Hush- #Poetry

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Delicately imbued

Saffron tinges of Memory

Subdued

Essence of Harmony

Singing on the breeze

Whispers of Captivation

Melding as it Frees

Blithe Introspection

Enchanting through the Blush

Of Auburn Tresses Falling

Through the Tapestry

Of Hush.

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~Morgan~

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This poem was the result of reading another poets work (Roland of www.rolandsragbag.wordpress.com), seeing One word or in the case of his work one image that sparked my Inspiration (that being the word Saffron) and immediately opening a word.doc to capture the words and phrases that tumbled through my mind. whether the poem makes any sense or not, I shall not say, but it was a wonderful exercise of Creativity I encourage you to try.

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Beautiful Photograph found via Pinterest. Credit Gratefully Acknowledged to the original Photographer. Thank You~

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Dreams Breathe Soft – #Poetry

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Dreams Breathe Soft from

Long Far away

Away across the Tides that play

Dreaming of Whispers

Transitory and Calm

Fleeting and Shifting in the

Mercurial Balm

Dreams Breathe Soft from

Far Away Long

A Delicate, Mystical, Exotic Song

Whispering of Dreams

Tempestuous and Sweet

Secrets that Entice through

Ploys that Entreat

Dreams Breathe Soft from

Away Long gone

Waiting

Debating

Upon the Billowing Dawn

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~Morgan~

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Beautiful Photograph found on Pixabay.  Credit Gratefully Acknowledged to the original Photographer.  Thank You~

This Silence

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I have been quiet this week due to having just moved to my new home in Alexandria Virginia. I have been settling in as well as tackling the daunting task of learning a new job. I hope that you are all enjoying a fabulous May. Please know that I shall return as soon as possible, but as we are preparing to move again to a new condo across town at the end of May my return may be sporadic until we are completely resettled.

Thank you for keeping me in your thoughts and continuing to visit BnV for any of the guest bloggers I have scheduled during my hiatus. As ever I wish you all the best blessings and happiness.

~Morgan~

The Heartbeat – An #Insight to #Poetry

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Poetry is music, a song without instrumentation; a symphony of rhythm, meter, timing, flow and magic.  It is a conundrum.  The expression of an emotion through the use of language that seeks to instill emotion, but how does one create a concerto of syllables and verbs, adjectives, nouns and pronouns in order to adequately convey something that is often intangible.

Take love for example.  How does anyone truly express such an inexpressible concept?  A sensation so powerful it overrules all logical thought, yet so delicate it can be whispered in the softest tones and still be understood?  It is exceedingly blissful and agonizingly painful; a tempest of temptation temptingly tempestuous.

Some poets are born to spin emotion into lyrical gold.  Shakespeare, Poe, Blake, Dunn; they all had a unique style that reached hearts and minds within mere measures of words and are even today, hundreds of years after their lives, evoking emotion through the power of words.  We, as contemporary poets, all seek to emulate, in our own way, magic similar to theirs; we all strive to convey emotion in an enduring and poignant manner.

Poetry is music.  A Heartbeat; a pulse; a tempo to which the heart and mind dance.  For some, creating that music is easy; for others a struggle.  For me, it is magic that is indescribable; a romance between my hands that form the words and my spirit that feels them. I write with my eyes closed, waiting. Heart quiet in restful calm or pounding in passionate inspiration, and Spirit open, willing, questing, seeking, listening, as the words and images come tumbling down.  Down from Heaven.
Down from the Sweet, sparkling heavens;
Down from the clouds of thundering rain,
Down from the Starlight of glittering Refrain,
Down from the Breathless moon that Sighs,
Down from the Whispers of Silken skies.

I am there, an open vessel while my Spirit sings the Sweetest tune I have ever heard. Though I cannot physically hear it, though I cannot listen to the manifestation of music like I do when I connect to my playlists, I hear the serenade as clearly as that faltering music. The melody comes down.
Down from Heaven,
Down from the sweet, sparkling heavens,
Down from the clouds of Glittering glow,
Down from the bastion o’er the rushing flow.
Down like a Heralding triumphant horn,
Down from the Endless expanse of morn.

Eyes closed, waiting. Heart Quiet, listening. Spirit Willing, Questing. All for the lyrical Beauty that spills like an endlessly cascading fall of sparkling water from that inestimably breathtaking Source. I write, write as fast as I am able, unconcerned about spelling, punctuation, context, verbiage. I sit in Humble wonder as the Blessed words pour Down.
Down from Heaven.
Down from the Sweet, Sparkling heavens.
Down from the rainbow of Jubilant Praise,
Down like a star falling in radiant blaze,
Down like symphonies of ethereal balm
Down like thunderous, calamitous calm!

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~Morgan~

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Beautiful Original Artwork: heartbeat_by_moonbeam1212

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#GuestBloggers – How to #Edit #Fiction by Kathryn Wells

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Knowing what to do after you’ve *finally* finished the first draft of your manuscript and have mopped up all the blood, sweat and tears that went into it can be a bit of a mystery if you’re new to the game. You know editing comes into it, and you may have heard about beta readers, but what comes first, and more importantly, how do you go get started?

To help with the cacophony of questions littering your head, I’ve made a general guide to help you get going. This is very much based off my own experience, and is not an exhaustive list:

  1. After you’ve written that last word on your manuscript, put the whole thing away somewhere and leave it for a good amount of time (I personally leave it for about three months, but others leave it for longer) and get on with other things. Start a new project; finish any others lurking around; if you’re thinking about publication, research which avenue might be best for you and what that entails; basically, anything to keep your mind stimulated but doesn’t involve that first draft. This is to make sure that when you do eventually go back to it, you can view it with fresh eyes – meaning that plot holes, weak characters or lack of world building will jump out at you and therefore be easier to fix.
  1. Don’t focus on spelling or wording on this initial edit. Look at the big picture instead. Are there any holes in your plot? Do your characters feel flat or serve no purpose? Does the story start in the right place, or are the first few chapters unnecessary? What scenes work, and what don’t? If you’re finding it hard to tell if certain points of the story are unnecessary, try removing them and see if it affects the overall plot. If the plot still flows, then those scenes (however beautifully written they are/despite how much you personally love them) have to go. Nothing ruins a good book more that scenes that jar the pacing by adding nothing.
  1. Once you’ve fixed the big issues with your manuscript, you can either put it away again, or continue on to the next stage. Again, I personally leave it for a bit because I know I get far too close to my work.
  1. Now it’s time to really focus on your characters and world building. Your characters need to feel like real people – give goals and dreams, flaws and bad habits, and don’t hole them up into stereotypes. If they’re from very different backgrounds/circumstances to you, make sure you do your research – not only to make them realistic, but to avoid being insensitive to readers. (If you’re worried about your representation of people from different walks of life to you, you can always hire a sensitivity reader at a later stage.) When working on world building, think about the social structure of each place, use all five senses to describe things and make sure you don’t fall into the pit of info dumping. Also, in dialogues scenes, look out for ‘white room syndrome’, when no description about where or when the scene takes place is included.
  1. Next, we get in to the more technical aspects of writing. Tense, point of view and grammar. (If you feel your manuscript is shaping up nicely, you can start looking at spelling, over-use of words and continuity, but I would leave that until last.) It doesn’t matter what point of view you use, or what tense, as long as you keep them consistent throughout the manuscript – unless you have a very good reason not to, like an intentional stylistic change to illustrate a certain point. If you struggle with grammar, there are a lot of helpful books and forums, as well as YouTube guides. (I have a book on grammar that’s actually written for kids, but the language and examples are so clear that it’s the one I go to most.)
  1. The stages of editing can get a bit murky here – some writers have to repeat steps until they’re happy and end up with a good number of drafts, others breeze right through and end up with relatively few. However, whether you’ve done a lot of back and forth on your work or not, this part is important. Read your work aloud. I’ll say it again: READ YOUR WORK ALOUD. From start to finish, until you’re sick of the sound of your own voice. This is so you can clearly see problems with sentence structure, missing words, typos, continuity, repetitive description and all that jazz (as readers we’re always pleased to spot others’ mistakes, but are far less pleased as writers if someone kindly points them out in our own work).
  1. Finally, when you are happy with your manuscript and can’t find anything else to work on, it’s time to send your work to beta readers. These can be other writers, friends, family or simply people you know love to read. What is important to note, however, is that it’s far more helpful to send your work to readers who readily consume books in that genre than ones who have never read/rarely read within your genre, as the feedback you receive will be more relevant. When you do receive feedback, look for trends in what people are saying. If eight people say a scene isn’t working, then it’s probably wise to take another look and see if it truly does need revising. If one beta reader hates a character but the others love them/make no comment, then perhaps that’s just their personal taste. Consider all feedback, but remember that it is still your work, so you have the final decision on what to change.

So there you have it. Where you take your work from there is completely up to you. Whether you opt for traditional publishing, self-publishing or somewhere in-between (be absolutely sure you don’t head down the path of vanity publishing – an old but good rule on how to tell a vanity publisher from a real one is that money should always flow to the author, not away) make sure you do your research.

Kathryn is a children’s and YA author, and currently has her fantasy trilogy, Half-Wizard Thordric, published with Creativia Publishing. Her YA speculative fiction novel, The Origin Stone, will be published in March 2019 by Nuff Said Publishing.

An avid reader, she also writes poetry, book reviews and short stories. She loves animals and is a slave to a parrot and budgie, and currently lives on the Isle of Wight with her husband, a curious and eccentric being who never fails to provide her with inspiration. You can find her on twitter @KaptainKat90, or go directly to her website www.kathrynwells.co.uk.

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~Kathryn Wells~

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#GuestBloggers – Grandpappy’s Cows – Mary Deal

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Grandpappy’s Cows  by Mary Deal

Grammy and Grandpappy had fifteen youngins of their own, so I had a mess o’ cousins. Most of the boys looked the same, with straggly dirty blonde hair and mean squinty eyes. We girls was better. We looked different from one another by our hair color and sizes of our bosoms.

Grandpappy moved lots of us to a run-down trailer park near the railroad tracks. Him and Grammy lived in a doublewide next to the meadow ’cause they kept a milk cow. As neighbors moved out, more of our kin moved in. No matter the trailers was abandoned ’cause they was old, we was a family that stuck together. Pretty soon our kin took over every useable trailer in that danged weed-infested field. The poor folk thought we was rich.

Everyone who visited asked to go see the rest of them empty trailers. I sneaked and seen ’em already and they was empty, except for some mattresses the hobos left behind. When I asked why my uncles always brought their girlfriends around to inspect those old trailers when they went out on dates, Grandpappy said, “They just want to bless our new home.” Then he’d slap his knee and bellow till his eyes watered and he started to coughin’. He never let me go see with the other people and got downright nasty when I tried. “You stay put, li’l girlie,” he said. “There’s time enough to learn about life.”

My daddy was a jack-of-all-trades and him and Grandpappy joined some of them trailers so’s you could walk from one to another without goin’ outside. When friends come over for some honky-tonkin’, those old trailers would rock and once the rotted tires exploded on one of ’em.

Effie May was my closest cousin. She was older ’n me. The boys said she was built like a cow. Sometimes when they headed off to the trailers, they said they was gonna go milk the cows. Like it was a dirty joke or somethin’. Effie May hung out with the boys a lot. She said they was her kissin’ cousins.

One day, Effie May whispered to me, “They calm my yearnins, ya’ know?”

I didn’t know. I saw her and cousin Wilma Lou, who my momma told me to stay away from, go in and out of them abandoned trailers on the other side of the park with a bunch of boys time and again. Effie May was awful smart, said she knew how to be of service to folks. She always had money. But me? I didn’t want to be nobody’s servant. Me and my momma was close. I was blonde-headed like the rest of my kin, but my hair picked up some of my momma’s red. I liked her the most, better ’n Effie May, ’cause Momma explained things to me.

As we kids was growin’ up, I guess Grandpappy thought he still had to feed the whole brood. One day after Grammy gave away the old cow that dried up, he come home with another.

“I’m tired of sittin’ around all day shaking the cream to the top of that jar just to make butter,” Grammy said.

“Well, we cain’t afford the store-bought stuff yet either,” Grandpappy said.

Johnny Jeb was one cousin always up to no good. He used to squeeze the cow’s udder so we could drink when we got thirsty while we was playin’. He’d squirt us just to be mean. We was lucky Grandpappy never knowed what the soggy stains was on our clothes and why leaves stuck in our hair ’cause sometimes after getting pushed in, we swam in the creek with our clothes on and he couldn’t tell the difference.

“You grandkids are dirtier ’n my own ever was,” he would say. “And to think you live better off today.”

Some of my aunts and uncles took a broom to their kids for coming home dirty. My momma just smiled and poured water into the old tin tub, throwed me a bar of Grammy’s lye soap, and said, “You soak good now, Darlin’.”

Grandpappy couldn’t figure out why the cow didn’t give much milk. He was attached to Bossie, his latest cow, and instead of getting rid of her, he brung home another.

Johnny Jeb loved that. He taught cousin Bobby Zeke to squirt and they had milk fights in the meadow. When the rest of us got to laughin’, we all learned to squirt.

Grandpa got a third cow just so’s he could get enough milk together for all our families every day. Anyway, between the three, they kept the weeds down real good. But it stunk some and the boys was put to scrapin’ up the cow-pies and tossin’ ’em into an empty field. Us girls stayed away from them dung fights.

Later on, when I started thinkin’ about boys, I looked in the mirror to see what they was a-winkin’ at. My bosoms finally growed like Effie May’s. My kin said I wasn’t bad looking and my hair always shined like sunlight.

“Why’d you s’pose that is?” I asked my momma one day.

“Musta’ been all that fresh cream you got in your hair when you was a kid,” she said.

I never knew she knowed. I have a right smart image of my momma now that I know she let us kids enjoy the fun we had back then. I looked at her real hard ’cause I admired her more all of a sudden. Her brassy hair was so shiny.

My daddy said I matured real nice. He always paced around lookin’ at me like I was the chunk of gold that was gonna make him rich or somethin’. I wondered if him and Momma would let me go honky-tonkin’. Effie May said she could tell me how to take care of my yearnins.

 

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Find this hilarious story and others among myriad explanatory articles about writing, including examples, in Write It Right – Tips for Authors – The Big Book on Amazon. Here: https://tinyurl.com/y8m7fkkr

 

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Mary Deal is an Amazon best-selling and award-winning author of suspense/thrillers, a short story collection, writers’ references, and self-help. She is a Pushcart Prize nominee, Artist and Photographer, and former newspaper columnist and magazine editor. She is currently writing the third story in her Sara Mason Mystery Series. A long romance novel, which is a new genre for her is presently in process for publication.

She has traveled a great deal and has a lifetime of diverse experiences, all of which remain in memory as fodder for her fiction. A native of California’s Sacramento River Delta, where some of her stories are set, she has also lived in England, the Caribbean, Hawaii, and now resides in Scottsdale, Arizona. She is also an oil painter and photographer. Her art is used to create gorgeous personal and household products from her online galleries.

Find Her Online

Her Website: https://www.marydeal.com

Amazon Author Page: https://tinyurl.com/3z8pm31

Barnes & Noble: https://tinyurl.com/o7keqf7

FaceBook: https://www.facebook.com/mdeal

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Mary_Deal

Linked In: https://www.linkedin.com/in/marydeal

Google+: https://plus.google.com/u/0/105175192934570097998

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/MaryDeal

 

Her Art Galleries

 

Mary Deal Fine Art – https://www.marydealfineart.com

Island Image Gallery – https://www.islandimagegallery.com

Mary Deal Fine Art and Photography – https://www.facebook.com/MDealArt

LocalMe – https://www.redbubble.com/people/localme

Pinterest – https://www.pinterest.com/1deal

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~Mary Deal~

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