Scribblings and scrawls of a hopeless romantic soul


Gods and Goddesses

Writers Quote Wednesday: Are You a Poet?

Featured quote for Writer's Quote Wednesday

We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.

-John Keating, Dead Poets Society

Are You a Poet?

Yes, I’d be happy to say that I am. 😊

Dropping in for a quick sip of hot mochachino at Go Dog Go Café, D of Inside the Mind of Davy D, asks us this all-time high question.

I remember having this conversation before (right, D?) and my opinion remains unchanged. I still believe that the title “poet” can be claimed as much as it can be bestowed. Those great poets that we look up to started off as beginners, writing and re-writing their hearts out, until their words made its mark. They were romantics and they were mad before they were labeled poets. Same goes for most of us here. I think it all boils down to the heart of of the person who claims to be one. So long as poetry plays a big part in our lives, so long as it runs in our bloodlines— regardless if it’s an excellent piece or a work in progress (I refuse to call them bad poems), infamous or not, published or simply etched on a crumpled paper— then by all means let’s call ourselves poets.

And since this originally was a post for WQW, here’s a quote I found from the 1989 movie, Dead Poets Society, which pinpoints the core of a poet’s heart. Passion.

So long as there is passion, this world will never run out of poets. Would you agree?

Have a lovely day, everyone. 💕

First Dance


First Dance
A Mythic Fiction

Cybele, the goddess of nature, came in the earliest crack of dawn. Soft gust of wind kissed on her cheeks, flirted with her long drape, and tousled her golden curls.

“Oh! Good morning, Boreas! You’re awfully playful today.” She said in between chuckle, whisking the wind away.

“All for you, Cybele,” Boreas, the god of wind, replied and with all the pride and air he could muster, gave a ceremonial bow, “May I have the honor to be your first dance?”

“You’ve always knew for whom my first dance is,” she softly whispered. With that, Cybele started moving slowly, her long dress flew gracefully with every bend and every curve as she performed her morning mantra.

Flourish my children, spread your verdant greens
Bloom, oh sweet buds, show those smiles to me
Creatures in the wild, live and run freely
Breath with pride my mountains and rivers in between

With one final pose, she pointed her toes and lifted her foot to an arabesque.

“What a pleasure it is,” Boreas exclaimed, “to hear your prayers, dear Cybele. You are as refined as a queen and as graceful as a swan.”

“Thank you, Boreas! But you still won’t get your dance.”

Word Count: 200

© 2016 Maria. All Rights Reserved.

Written for Sunday Photo Fiction’s prompt.

Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly writing challenge hosted by Alastair Forbes where a photo is used as a prompt for a piece of fiction using around 200 words. The piece doesn’t have to center around exactly what the photo is, it can be just used as a basis for a story. Thank you, Al!

*Cybele is known as the mistress of wild nature and  goddess of fertility. She personified the earth and its abundant benefits, and was regarded as the Great Mother and unceasing producer of all plant life. She was also believed to exercise unbounded sway over the animal world including wild animals, especially the lion.

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