Inside the Mind of Isadora


47 Comments

Friday Fictioneers – Bring on the Waves

Belinda was the singer in the group. Tonight, her timing was off.

Could it be too much tequila?

‘Mi Pueblo’ had the most delicious margarita’s. She had to have two.

Each failed attempt at singing left her in giggles. 

She’d needed this night out with friends.

The car accident had left her wheelchair bound.

She’d been depressed about it again. 

Thoughts poured into her head quicker than she could get them out sometimes.

Spontaneously, the raucous group decided on a beach open-air sing-a-long.

They raced to the edge of the ocean.

“Bring on the waves,” Belinda shouted.

2019©Isadora DeLaVega

 

Word Count: 100 words

Genre: Flash Fiction

Photo Prompt©LindaKreger

To join writer/artist Rochelle

and her Friday Fictioneers click here

Margarita: a beverage served with tequila and other tasty additions.

The glass rim is coated with salt.

 


10 Comments

Sunday Song – Caught Out In The Rain

She wanted him.

 More than he ever knew. 

Invisible to him,

she couldn’t let him know. 

 Within seconds, 

he could make her feel 

like a thousand years 

of wanting him,

of being with him,

of loving him, 

wasn’t enough.

Yet, 

She was willing to embrace,

all the fragments he gave her. 

Because, 

every second and every moment

together with him

 was a piece of his life for her.

2019©Isadora DeLaVega

 

Sunday Song – Caught Out In The Rain


8 Comments

Take my Hand and Walk with Me

 

While on a cruise for our 50th anniversary, we renewed our vows.

These were the words I spoke:

Take my hand and walk with me

 in quiet places; 

Where butterfly wings create a melodic song.

Sing and play in secret meadows; 

where grasses sway 

with soft summer breezes 

from dusk to dawn.

Share with me a simple life 

of placid days and starry nights; 

where we can lie on yielding grasses,

while waiting for the morning light.

Take my hand and dance with me, 

until stars twinkle brightly in your eyes.

 For simple pleasures love can hold; 

even when winter’s edge grows bold. 

2019©Isadora DeLaVega

~~~~~~~

These were the vows my husband spoke:

~~~~~~~

Without you,

Life is just existing

With you,

Life is worth living.

You put a name on the

Songs birds sing

And, you bring the smell of flowers

To a breezy spring

You are my sun,

You are my moon 

My hearts soar’s 

With loving wings.

2019©Al DeLaVega

There are so many things I could say about our special day: August 21,1965. We stood before God and said our vows. It was a celebration with family and friends. We were a perfect example of youth with all of the innocence that accompanies it.

Our lack of knowledge gave us freedom from moral wrongs. 

We knew one thing only: LOVE. 

We thought we were the perfect example of what a life of love should be. We were fearless about what the future would hold. 

We had a special bond that held us together: LOVE.

Did we expect to have troubles??? 

No.

But, trouble is an inevitable part of life. When trouble comes you simply need to hold your head high and face that trouble directly. 

There were many; they came often. 

You can’t be youthfully naive and not have trouble sitting at your table. 

We both felt strong and confident that we’d be able to conquer everything. And, we did.

Those of us who’ve had the joy of celebrating many years of marriage do so with a badge of honor. 

Conquering trials and tribulations along with creating joyful and loving moments together are part of how relationships bond together. 

What gives us the honor to celebrate so joyously?

Our commitment for a lifetime together. 

And, we’ve been. 

We celebrate another anniversary with our hearts filled with joyful LOVE.

Enjoy … Isadora
    2019©IsadoraDeLaVega


8 Comments

I am Unique

I am Unique

We look in the mirror; see flaws.

We don’t like what we see.

Our skin color is darker.

And, our countenance is mystifying. 

Trying to change into people,

we’re comparing ourselves to.

To create the person, hopefully, you’ll see.

But, anger and hatred is a major ruination.

When will they understand?

Inside, we are good people.

Just like them.

Why don’t they don’t see?

I can’t make them value me.

All I can do is show them.

What I feel and what I believe.

It’s up to them to realize my worth.

I am unique.

I am love.

2019©Isadora DeLaVega

~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~

Jamie @The Poet by Day hosts a Wednesday Writing Prompt

to join in click here

*****Mural is on the building side of MADEBY Gallery

at the Ringling School of Art & Design in Sarasota, Florida.

 


37 Comments

Friday Fictioneers – Ready or Not

 8 – 9 – 10

“Ready or not, here I come,” she shouted.

Rosie hated this game. She knew if she didn’t play along they’d ignore her.

Her eyes roamed the central plaza, but they were no where to be seen.

The pretzel vender grinned as she passed in her search. Rosie was sure he knew.

She was struck by the hands covering the eyes of the huge sculpture looming above her. ‘A bit like this game,’ she thought.

Swiftly, hands pulled at her scrawny arms. Before she could turn, her eyes were covered. She wailed.

Then, the sound of screeching tires.

2019©Isadora DeLaVega

 

Genre: Flash Fiction

Word Count: 100 Words

Photo Prompt-©Roger Bultot

To join Rochelle and her Friday Fictioneers challenge

to join in click here

To read more photo prompt stories click here

~~~~~~~~~

*****Hide-and-seek, or hide-and-go-seek, is a popular children’s game in which any number of players (ideally at least three)[1] conceal themselves in a set environment, to be found by one or more seekers.

The game is played by one player chosen (designated as being “it”) closing their eyes and counting to a predetermined number while the other players hide. For example, count to 100 in units of 5 or count to 20, one two three and keep counting up till it reaches twenty. After reaching this number, the player who is “it” calls “Ready or not, here I come!” and then attempts to locate all concealed players.


49 Comments

Friday Fictioneers – The Ordeal

She hated them. All of them! 

They hid behind their masks, worn as a disguise.

She knew what they had in mind. They couldn’t fool her.

With each spasm, an electrical jolt ran through her body.

How much more could she endure?

Aching, throbbing, electrifying pains on every inch of her skin.

She screamed. Her screams meant nothing. They only helped encourage their wretched abuse. 

The glint from their eyes, above their masks, along with encouraging words meant nothing to her during these agonizing bloody moments.

When she thought she could endure no more, “A son,” they said.

2019©Isadora DeLaVega

~~~~~~~~~

Genre: Flash Fiction

Word Count: 100 Words

Photo Prompt©DaleRogerson

 

To join Rochelle and her Friday Fictioneers challenge

click here

To read more stories click here


10 Comments

Serenity – A Walk through Life

Tree Path.web A Walk through Life ©IsadoraDeLaVega

Spend your brief moment according to nature’s law,

and serenely greet the journey’s end as an olive falls when it is ripe,

blessing the branch that bares it and giving thanks to the tree that gave it life.

quote from Marcus Aurelius [philosophers/resources]

Manhã de Carnaval – Al di Meola – Paco de Lucía – John McLaughlin

 


3 Comments

Sunday Song – Flight From The City

Although Mother’s Day was on May 12, 2019, my special poem for Mother’s 

‘Your Mother’s Always with You’ 

was added to the BeZine Project Special Mini Edition for Mother’s Day  on May 20, 2019.

This video is a testimony to the strength of a mother. She must have the fortitude and resilience to impart upon her child a confident character in order to let go of her child into the world of whatever may come their way. Yet, she must be there to let them gather strength once again from her quietly warm touch. 

A mother’s love is never-ending.

Isadora 

2019©Isadora De La Vega

‘Your Mother is always with You’

She’s the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street.

She’s the smell of certain foods you remember.

She’s the flowers that you pick, of the perfume that she wore.

She’s your breath in the air on a cold winter’s day.

She’s the sound of the rain that lulls you to sleep,

She’s in your laughter, crystallized in every tear,

She’s the place you came from, your first home.

She’s the map you follow with every step you take.

She’s your first love, your first friend, even your first enemy.

    Nothing on earth can separate you,

Not time … Not space … Not even death!

Isadora

2019©Isadora DeLaVega