Sweets and Treats Mini Contest: 5 Days Left!Hello Colourful Members!
Since the holidays are coming up, most of us enjoy baking or gathering goodies for this season! So what better way to host a contest about sweets and desserts. We hope you all will be able to participate and get a chance to win some awesome prizes! We wish you the best of luck!
Sweets & Treats
Candy Desserts Pastries - they must be edible
Allowed to submit two old or new entries in the Sweets and Treats Folder
Must be a member to participate
Only submit YOUR work from your gallery, not someone else's work
We would appreciate if you could mention our group in your Artist Comments
If your photograph does not contain this specific theme, your piece will be declined
Open on November 15th- December 15th and the top three winners will be announced on December 25th
**Remember we're Burst of Colours- the more colour, the better**
Cry for MeCry for what you've lost.Cry for Me5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Cry for being five years old,
On Daddy's shoulders,
On top of the world.
Cry for being ten,
For Daddy going to war,
And crackling phone calls.
Cry for thirteen,
Missing a Daddy
Who doesn't miss you.
Cry for the summer of fourteen,
Of a first kiss
Cry for your very first love,
With the girl who would grow up,
To be the best man you know.
Cry for promises broken,
Screaming and shouting,
And the worst mistake.
Cry for fifteen,
And the next love,
A boy with everything going for him.
Cry for that year,
Of ups and downs,
And knowing it will never fade.
Cry for the fallout,
And the boy who took his place,
And found one of his own.
Cry for those months,
On a yo-yo string,
And the inevitable second chance.
Cry for being 17 and heartbroken,
Because neither of you ever learned
To think before you act.
Cry for the loss of a beautiful boy,
And reconciling with his replacement,
Who became irreplacable.
Cry for the permanent love,
Of a man who shouldn't matter,
Already out of TimeTick tock tick tock,Already out of Time2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Says the black clock,
As I sit in the red chair,
At the dawn of yet another year,
Writing a letter via the ink of a pen,
My withered fingers delay,
Because the sharpness of my mind,
Has grown blunt with decay,
I look at the paper,
But I cannot read the words,
I put on my glasses,
And realize that I can no longer,
Tell the difference between adjectives and adverbs,
As I stare at the page,
I wonder why my thoughts,
Have grown muddled with age,
Instead of clear,
Like the accurate reflections of a sage,
Tick tock tick,
Says the black clock,
As I perfect the red words on the letter,
Trying to make it better,
With these clunky hands of mine,
That have grown heavy underneath,
The oppressive weight of time,
Tick tock tick tock,
Says the black clock,
As my red heart begins to fail,
I grit my teeth and write faster,
Because I know the boat of Chronus the Reaper,
Has already set sail,
Tick tock tick tock,
Says the black clock,
As my dry red eyes begin to dose,
In the Mouth of Madnessa terror within me dwells unspokenIn the Mouth of Madness5 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
a fatal fang embedded and broken
with words that pierce and cannot lie
still I bleed before I die
a rhythmic chant now rises up
shrieks drain into a chalice cup
filled with deadly dark intent
an everlasting soul's lament
black as bile my wound now sings
it's lips, the dark on devil's wings
my pain no longer held within
the mouth of madness speaks my sin
Ode to the SirenShe calls to me with song and my strong heart melts,Ode to the Siren2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Like iron cast into the forge,
Enthralled by her beauty I come forward,
Even though I know,
That she only seeks to gorge,
Upon my flesh,
Staring up into her eyes,
I know that smarter guys would despise,
My utter weakness to her spell,
Gnawing my neck down to the bone,
I know that she will drag me into the depths Hell,
But it is as if my legs are cast in stone,
I do not flee even though I see,
Imminent doom approaching,
As the reapers come for me,
Isn’t it tragic,
How I have fallen victim to her magic?
----Engraved into the walls of a vacant ship docked
within the harbor of Port Dag, the Kingdom of Nebo’s
only port city.
Sleep, My Darling.Sleep, my darling, and dream a pleasant dream.Sleep, My Darling.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Close those moonbeam eyes and rest your tired heart
Leave behind this world of absolute's and have to's
For one of what if's and maybe's.
Lay down your hope-filled head and melt into your cloud-soft pillow.
Curl up into those silken blankets,
Pull them up over your head to block out the world's calls.
Leave the moonlight on,
So the monsters in the closet can see.
Count the jumping, cottony sheep,
As I sing you a lullaby.
Listen closely to your bedtime story,
For you may be the princess, someday.
Sigh gently as you leap to the world of your own,
And don't let the bedbugs bite.
.:In The Mirror:.In the mirror she is the copy of him.:In The Mirror:.4 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
A cold hearted double faced asshole
A Fake. A Phony. A Liar.
With her nose high up in the air
Yet the thought of having the slightest resemblance
Makes her sick to her stomach
She refuses to accept that she is of him
Refuses to stoop that low
If he possess' a heart
It is to love himself and himself alone
Only a fool would believe
that he is capable of affection
And a fool she was.
Ice Queen BlueIt was long ago when I shut my eyesIce Queen Blue3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
No room for tears, no stomach for lies
I turned my back and cared no more
I walled myself up, hidden to the core
None could see me in my mist
I no longer fought, I did not resist
Some think I suffered beneath this rust
But you do not suffer if you do not trust
So go your way and leave me alone
I am weary of life and cold to the bone
Don't weep for me because I do not care
I was shaped this way by life unfair
The scars may not be physically seen
But they lie beneath what might have been
So just go away and let me sleep
Life has left me too cold too weep.
i may be a mess.her eyes are like murky hurricanes and her summers are filled with messages in bottles. her lips are quite like porcelain and her finger tips have gruesome memories. maybe her skin is tearing off and her feet seem to bleed when she steps awkwardly around your piercing words.i may be a mess.6 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
maybe stars just don't shine as bright as she does; although if you tell her that she might not believe you. she'll just say your a silly little child with no real sense of direction because you took the wrong path and found the wrong broken angel - you found the wrong star.
she strums an A chord, but it's a foul sound - you know the one. the one that plays you asleep into your beautiful nightmares. she watches as you dream with your eyes wide shut and your heart slowly opening. she's a dreamer, too, but she dreams in pools of melancholy and nostalgia.
she's a dreamer you dared to forget and the fallen star you seem to have misplaced. she's creeping around corners looking for an excuse to be held in your arms - for
My Ice Queen.You,My Ice Queen.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
like the snow fell,
fell down beside me,
fair and delicate,
And on the road
you lay scattered.
So I lifted you,
and soft and light like
snowflakes you were
Quiet and cold
in my arms ~
though through the
years you toughened -
and like ice
you were harsh in
droplets - tiny points
that pricked me,
And frost came to crisp me over.
And so when the
summer heat came
like the snow
My Ice Queen.
The ArrivalEnglish version:The Arrival4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Inside a lake,blurry,
sitting on a raft,
spoiling the spirit.
Everything looks familiar.
The blurry water.
The fish that jumped,scared,
in the water again.
Inside the water,it looks like something is visible.
I'm not sure of what it is.
But is visible.
And this is not familiar.
How can it be and it is visible?
It's a woman.
She rises through the water.
She reminds me of something.
She is coming close to me.
She is reaching out her hand.
Bowed,but with her eyes on me.
And that reminds me of you.
Bent but steady.
She touches me.
And the voice touches me,
It was always me.
And that's the familiar.
And that's the fear.
And that's everything.
Reminds me of me.
Reminds of you.
Nothing is alike though.
Lose YourselfWhat's the point in leaving footprintsLose Yourself5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
if no one's going to follow them?
And what's the point in screaming
if no one's going to hear you?
And what's the point in crying
if no one's going to wipe away the tears?
What's the point
in getting lost
if no one's going to notice you're missing?
if no one's going to come looking for you?
if no one's going to care?
Falling faster than your tears.
Pounding on the cement,
only sound louder is your heart.
Do all these houses look the same,
or have I been here before?
Feet scraping on gravel,
sound too loud to belong.
dancing a taunting waltz with the headlights.
Monsters creeping in alleyways.
No, just another lost soul.
I smile small, recieve a glare.
Do you know that sound?
It sets your hair on end,
clenches your stomach in it's claws,
the starting gun for your heart.
Tires, crunching ro
DefianceDefiance4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Quite a lovely cage you built for her, huh?"
Messirama strode slowly across the room, her arm crossed on the chest in a slightly contemptuous stance. "Now what? Are you planning to keep her in that room for the rest of the fucking time? Feed her like a bird?"
Apparently unconcerned about her rowdy attitude, Vehnas lazily raised his head from the book he was reading and glanced at the woman, which now stood before him.
"Oh dear, dear... holding a grudge, aren't we?" He addressed her casually, "I wonder what could that be for..."
She huffed at his mocking tone and leaned nonchalantly against the wooden bureau behind her, folding her arms tighter against her breast. "Really, as if you had to guess."
He turned his attention back to the book, the beads of his bracelets tingling lightly as he leafed through the pages. "Leave now, darling. As much as I enjoy having your gorgeous self around, I can see you're going to start talking soon, and it just detracts from your whole 'being
a little bita little bit of red in your cheeksa little bit5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you'll never know how much you mean to me
a little bit of blonde in your hair
you'll never know how much i'd like to be there
a little bit of a skip in your walk
you'll never know how my heart flutters when you talk
a little bit of warmth in your voice
you'll never understand how loving you was less than a choice
a little bit of sun on our skin
you'll never know how i could never love again
a little bit of a smile when we kiss
you'll never remember how much we felt bliss
a little bit of affection in your eyes
you'll never know what its like to see you kiss other guys
a little bit of the night in your arms
you'll never understand that without you my world would be more than harmed
a little bit of the night on my own
you'll never know what i feel like alone
a little bit of stars in the sky
you'll never know that i'll miss you, until i die
What it's all about.All we want is to be understood and loved for who we are.What it's all about.4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
But we can't ever be loved for that.
Because no one knows who we are.
And no one ever will.
No one could possibly know the depth of our thoughts
or the wickedness that lies quiet in all of us.
We can only be loved for the bits and pieces of ourselves that we decide to show to the people around us, hoping that we will also be loved for all the other little things that we'll uncover in the future.
Because that's what love is all about.
It's about accepting change and evolution,
about wanting to be part of this unique
and beautiful process.
Definitely MaybeMaybe shes out there, standing beneath the same moonDefinitely Maybe6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Maybe making promises with her ceiling as she prays in her room
Maybe were wishing upon the same shooting stars
Maybe not knowing that someday wed be each others
Maybe shes wondering who I am as I wonder where she is
Maybe when we meet tomorrow shell still be someones his
Maybe when I meet her for the second time, she wont remember my name
Maybe the world will spin a thousand times more before we meet again
Maybe the third time, our eyes will meet and everyone else will disappear
Maybe we still wont know the significance, at least for another year
Maybe well talk every night when wed have no other choice
And then maybe well talk because Id miss the sound of her voice
Maybe shell tell me to come over and Id bring her favourite flowers
Maybe Id tell her the story of my life, and wed laugh the night to morning hours
Maybe, instead of laughter
clothesI felt the scratching material running over my skin like hot sand in the Sahara. "I'll be back in a couple of hours.", I said stiffly, almost numb.clothes4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Fine.", he replied, his eyes focusing on the door as if there was a Hollywood movie playing on it.
I stepped outside the house, right into a puddle of mud. It was a cold and windy September day, no birds were singing and barely any cars passing by. I would just go to the woods, sit down on a bench, relax, maybe smoke a cigarette or two.
Step by step, my boots got wetter and wetter. So did my jacket. It was one of these old ones, those which they wore in the 80's movies I enjoyed so much. He had gotten it for my last birthday back in December of the last year - a very cold December. I remembered how the snowflakes wouldn't stop falling, flake by flake on the lifeless and grey ground, I remembered how he and I would run out the house, across the street right onto the field, we would build snowmen and have a snowball fight, we would giggle, l
I'm FineI'm fine.I'm Fine4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Clearly you see that I'm not.
But really I'm fine.
Always have been.
But no I'm not.
I'm not fine.
Saying your fine means nothing.
It is a lie.
But I say it anyways.
It's all I can say.
To keep them away.
Because telling them won't help.
Because they don't understand.
Explainations won't do.
So I say those two words.
Just to keep them satisfied.
While my mind scream "I'M NOT FINE".
My lips are in a straight line.
I show no signs of being "not fine".
But that's just a mask.
So really, I'm not fine.
But I'll keep saying it.
I'll keep saying it till you're satisfied.
Because it's my problem.
It's never your problem.
So you shouldn't have to worry.
But I want you to worry really.
But telling you that is selfish.
I can't be selfish.
Selfish is bad.
So if you ask,
Yes I am fine.
But no I am not fine.
I am far from it.
But I'll tell you that lie again.
So you don't make that face.
Even thought I'm not fi
China X Reader ~ Lost LoveChina X Reader ~ Lost Love3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
China X Reader
WARNING: INCLUDES SAD SCENES WHICH YOU MAY NEED TO GRAB A TISSUE FOR AND BAD LANGUAGE/OFFENSE AND HUMOR FROM MOCK THE WEEK 'UNLIKELY LETTERS FOR AN AGONY AUNT TO RECIEVE' APPEARING IN TIME SKIP, NEW TOPIC AND INTRO.
~*~*~*~ Intro. 'I want to trace my father, could you suggest a good marker pen?'
As you strolled silently through the beautiful and colourful Chinese gardens, you could smell the earth from the tip of your nose. Wang Yao's garden was beautifully decorated than any other countries garden you had visited. You had visited America's with a fountain, Francis with his over dose of roses, Russia with his bright sun-flowers and England with a whole mix. But Yao's garden, un-regrettably, had to the best of them all.
~*~*~*~ New topic. 'I have recently discovered the pleasures of butter in sex, I smear it on the door knob to stop the kids coming in.'
Instead of just flowers and fountains, China had large ponds scattered around his house a
The WatchmakerThe Watchmaker4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Thomas sat hunched over his worktable in the corner of the dark shop, tired green eyes peering alternatively through his mixed set of lenses and magnifying glasses. The slim silver tools in his thin fingers never once clinked together as he worked, turning over the dozens of tiny metal gears and springs laid out before him, checking each one studiously for the hundredth time that week.
He didn't know what he was looking for. He knew he'd find nothing. The pieces were perfect, crafted and meticulously cut from the finest metals. They gleamed in the light of the table's single candle, reflecting the shifting shadows that flicked across the room. He'd never seen anything like them in all his yearsmuch less held such things in his handsand Thomas' aged heart beat furiously as he gazed at them through the glass.
The Pale Gentleman hadn't been lying There was certainly something special about these parts
Elizabeth, the old watchmaker prayed silently, I hope
Good Morning, Mr. MagpieOne for sorrow,Good Morning, Mr. Magpie6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Two for a laugh
Three for the future
And four for the past
Five for true love
Six for hate
Seven for a saviour, five minutes too late
One for sorrow
Two for relief
Three for your happiness
And four for your grief
Five for a virtue
And six for a sin
Seven for an adversary wholl never give in
One for sorrow
Two for pride
Three for a cadaver
And four for a bride
Five for a journey
And six, you must wait
Seven for the devil, wholl fill you with hate
One for sorrow
Two for love
Three for Hell
And four up above
Five for sapphire
And six for red
Seven for two eyes, both blue and both dead
pears and nearspears and nears3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
monday afternoon and
my lover is studying;
i am wondering if he remembers that time when
we learnt together the geometric shapes -
circled are his lips when
the sun draws himself upon them;
i am jealous.
earth has his own anatomy -
them science people called him "pear";
maybe the fruit was before the planet
or maybe the planet grew out of it,
which makes us pearestrials, but
i wouldn't know;
i don't do science.
i don't even do words -
words are too academic sometimes;
it's propestorous (exclamation mark)
and my fingers are only made to waltz with yours;
i'm sorry when i stumble,
you know my forefinger is high heel sensitive;
there's too many is in the world.
monday's moving towards evening
my lover's still studying
earth is still a pear
there's Pretty Woman on tv
the food is not getting any w
beauty"you're beautiful."beauty5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"why don't you understand what i'm saying? you're beautiful."
"because girls tell me it all the time."
"yeah, but they don't mean it like i do."
"your face is beautiful, i'll give you that. sad puppy eyes, birds-in-flight lips, rocker-sloppy floppy hair. but your heart --"
"no, let me finish. your heart is so much more. you could fit the world inside there and feel it ache. that's what your pulse is. it's not blood, no ventricle contraction or atrium expansion, it's love. it's the ache of the world in your chest. that's why you're beautiful."
"why does it hurt so much?"
"because love hurts. and that's why we love. to hurt for others."
"to hurt for, or to just hurt others?"
"i don't want this."
"nobody does. everybody does."
"my heart isn't mine anymore, it's --"
"-- everybody else's. i know."
"what's wrong with me?"
"you're more beautiful than anyone in the world, that's what's wrong with you."
"that's a problem?
Italy X reader part 4Italy X reader part 43 years ago in Romance More Like This
Just as me and Feli. planned, I went to visit his house.
On the way there, we were talking about how we should go on a picnic with his family after.
"Ve~what should we bring to the picnic, bella?"
"Maybe a (fav.flavor) cake or ice cream or-r-r!" I said while studdering.
"Calm down, ________! We can bring all those things, maybe even make some of them!"
And with that, he pecked me on the cheek.
To be a nice person I returned one to him, too.
"Look it's mi casa!" screamed the italian *I guess he wanted to change the subject*
I stood and in amazement.
His house looked like a mansion!
Feli. pulled me into the house then scream out "Hey! everyone come meet _________!!!"
A small group of people came down to meet me.
"Everyone this is _________!"Feli said again.
"Hola! My name is Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, but you can just call me Antonio." said a young man that was standing in the group .* He must be spainish*
"and this is Lovino!"
draging out another person out of the group.
"Ciao." and th