Fits and starts– that’s what seems to be at the heart of my writing right now. Stuck, unstuck, stuck.
But each week, Friday Fictioneers pulls me out of my rut and hands me an option. Rochelle Wisoff-Fields does an epic job of herding this group. If you’d like to join us, check out her blog Addicted to Purple, where you can join in or read the 100+ stories (this week, I’m 107!) that are contributed each week.
As always, I welcome honest, constructive feedback; please leave a comment!
© Rachel Bjerke
The Shade of Our Years (98 words)
When I was young, the green– oh the green! It lit the world with possibility and hope.
We lay for hours upon the green, breathing in its freshness and beauty.
We made love on the green.
I read to you; you read to me,
On the green–
surrounded by a universe of plenty.
Clover was our blanket– the pot of gold within our reach.
Now, in the twilight of our years, green covers those memories and buries our love– in layers of green decay.
What is left, lies beneath the green, aching for light…
and a new color.
* * *
Help Me Reach My Goals! I’d love to see the Tales From the Motherland Facebook page reach 700 likes in 2015. Have you stopped by to spread some fairy dust? Follow me on Twitter, where I’m forced to be brief. Most importantly, if you like a post I’ve written, hit Like and leave a comment. I love to hear what readers think. Honest, positive or constructive feedback is always welcome. Click Follow; you’ll get each new post delivered by email, with no spam. If you see ads on this page, please let me know. They shouldn’t be there. ©2014 Please note, that all content and images on this site are copyrighted to Dawn Quyle Landau and Tales From the Motherland, unless specifically noted otherwise. If you want to share my work, please give proper credit. Plagiarism sucks.
TALES FROM THE MOTHERLAND 
Dear Dawn,
The beauty of this piece has left an ache in my heart. Perhaps it’s the fit of melancholia I’m having at the moment, having just spent an hour looking through family photos in pursuit of one. Oh the memories.
Wonderful writing.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Too often, I find, looking at old photos does that. I know exactly what you mean. Thanks for stopping by, Rochelle. I always appreciate your feetback.
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Sounds like a hole in one to me…. 😀 bad joke aside, this story contains a lot of emotion. Good job
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Bad joke aside, thanks! 😉
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Stories like this remind me of the fleeting days we call our life. Sometimes they seem to drag and other times they fly so fast one’s head spins. You caught that feeling for me. Thank you, Alicia
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Dawn, you were certainly “unstuck” on this one! It was amazing and beautiful and everything wonderful and green. 🙂
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Thanks! I felt like I couldn’t really find a flow… I really considered not submitting anything this week. I really appreciate the kind feedback; thanks!
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You deserved it!
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Very poetic, and romantic. I like it.
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Thanks Dawn. Struggled with this one, this week. Glad you liked it. 🙂
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This is beautiful, Dawn. There are so many layers to it: the nostalgia, the hope at the end, if it is indeed hope. I liked it.
-David
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There is hope at the end… I like to think there’s always some hope (though I know that’s a bit idealistic). Glad you enjoyed it David; this one was harder for me to figure out.
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Dawn, you never disappoint us – never! I certainly enjoy your sense of humor! Nan
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Dawn, I almost forgot to tell you that I liked your green story. Nan too
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Ok, now I’m even more confused… what else were you commenting on?? Thanks Nan.
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Is this referring to the “green story?” I didn’t use any humor, that I know of… But, how could I not appreciate such a kind comment? Thanks Nan!
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This is poetic in all the best senses. Good work. You paint a rainbow in shades of green.
MG
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Thanks Marie Gail; I appreciate your colorful feedback. 😉
D
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there is only one word for it, sweet
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One word in return: thanks!
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So very descriptive of the difference between youthful dreams and the reality of age. So very well written as always, Dawn. 🙂 — Suzanne
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Thank you Suzanne; you are always so kind in your feedback. 😀
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The narrator in this piece seems to me pulled between melancholy and nostalgia. I like the Irish symbolism that you have woven throughout. Perhaps St. Patrick’s spirit moved you with hints of clover and pots o’ gold. I also caught the link from your mood – feeling stuck and getting unstuck – in this poem. After all, isn’t the ultimate form of being stuck that of being buried – the anticipation of endless sleep? It is interesting that you counter the freshness and newness of Spring with aging and decay.
The beauty of this piece is that you found inspiration in your mood and found a way to capture it in words. There is a word for that ability — talent. Well done. – Mike
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Whatever I’m feeling each week, stuck or inspired, your comments always provide a wonderful boost of positive encouragement; thanks for that, Mike! I agree that this piece (which I stumbled on and struggled with) did pull from my mood and perhaps from my Irish heritage as well. 😉 I rarely spend more than a few minutes writing any of these FF stories, but this one definitely is reflective of the process this week, as well.
As always, thanks for your lovely words. YOU should be writing more!
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Yes, things change. Poignant and sweet with a ray of hope for a new color. Excellent job, Dawn.
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Thanks Cathy. I am hopelessly hopeful, if nothing else! Even when I find myself stuck. 😉
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Me too, dear friend. Me too!
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I like how you’ve focused on colour to represent the passing years and the changes in their relationship – very nice. I also think the ending works well. So sad that they let their love get buried and lost. It’s not hard for that to happen.
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Thanks Margaret. I think that the passage of time does a lot to a relationship… it’s hard work to come out in a good place, on the others side! I appreciate your feedback; thanks!
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Such poetic comparisons between aging and youth. I really enjoyed this.
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Thanks so much Susan. I really appreciate your kind feedback.
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How beautiful! That change from the green of hope to the green of decay is impressive.
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Thanks so much. I think that there is a duality to most things, and even the brightest, happy color, has its darker side… even a lush green. Thanks for stopping by Tales From the Motherland. I really appreciate you taking the time to read and comment.
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Great story. Your take – the sad decay that comes with passing time being still offset with some brighter hope, the ‘new colour’ – was lovely.
Cheers
KT
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Thanks KT. I think the two exist side by side, in so many cases. Life is filled with duality. Thanks for your kind feedback.
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This is just marvelous, I can so much agree that the green can also be depressive.. once the summer canopies will try to suffocate you with its massive green I forget how much I love the tender green at spring. Your use of it as a metaphor works so well…and then that new color in the end.. great progression to that point.
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Thanks so much Björn. Green is a color that elicits so much for me, living in a place where the deep shades of green mean lush, new growth, as well as decay and dark woods. Where there is dark, there can be light… and visa versa. I appreciate your thoughtful feedback.
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Lovely evocative story, though I’m not thrilled about the twilight of my years. Yeah, looking for the light and a new color here too!
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No doubt, the twilight of our years can also be the best, Perry… youth is so wasted on youth! 😉
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Oooo! Fascinating twist with the color, texture and mood. Such precision. Well done!
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Thanks so much Susan. I’m glad you enjoyed it!
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Such a beautiful piece filled with so many emotions. Lovely as ever, Dawn.
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Thanks so much, Loré. I appreciate your kind words… time and again. 🙂
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You are welcome, time and again. 😉
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