Wednesday, July 17, 2019

669


image credit
AMBROSIA NIGHTS
Nights were, when the calming scent of Ambrosia
Wrapped me like skin, cuddling like moon perimeters

Keeping me secured and enlightened stayed confined
My thoughts never drifted beyond the sound of breath

My heart was light with giggles and laughter, heady
As if consumed of wine in long stem glasses, cheers!

My wishes were pasted to eternity stretching into
Unknown places sensed in the sensuality of moment

Etched in the echoes of time silent and unwavering
You held me tenderly you were scented in Ambrosia
AMBROSIA NIGHTS © gillena cox 2019


Blog hopping today with

Poets United
Midweek Motif ~ Perfume


ENJOY THE MUSIC


REVISIT
17 July 2018
17 July 2017
17 July 2015

Monday, July 15, 2019

Monday WRites 214


[Today's mosaic 'Raindrops on Leaves']

RAINDROPS
raindrops
with fitted sense
they assembly themselves
see how they round out on the leaves
like that!
RAINDROPS © gillena cox 2019

You've heard about the Monday Blues ❧✿❧ well this is Monday WRites (musing on the definition here of rite, as any customary observance or practice eg the rite of afternoon tea). A Happy Monday to all
Welcome to Monday WRites #214 ❧✿❧ What's your mood like today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites.


verses

Copy this code, pin my button to your blog



Blog Hopping today with

Mosaic Monday #36 - Spokane City Parks

AND


Ruby Tuesday
Little Red Dots

AND

Quadrille #83 & 8th anniversary
where the challenge is a poem of exactly 44 words (not counting your title), with the given word – sun.

RAIN WITNESS
All and sundry, they pop up to say hello to raindrops.
Caladium of the broad speckled leaf,
Xythosoma of the single red sheath petal ,
Fever Few of white petals and golden center
as well curious unknown ones,
All witnesses at the altar of Rain.
RAIN WITNESS© gillena cox 2019

❧✿❧

REVISIT
17 July 2017


ENJOY THE MUSIC



Wednesday, July 10, 2019

667


Cinque Terre, Italy - by Kookay

SEASONS MAY
Now that the Poui have gone shy of blossoms,
Blue green outline of mountains hem the sky line.
Grey clouds will skirt their way into many a morning
There to stay weeping,
Hushing excited thrill of dawn birds,
Shooing them off to hiding places.
Seasons come and sometimes linger before they go,
Ah but morning breaks, regardless of the
Her sun, dipping into the horizon of hours,
No matter how low.
SEASONS MAY © gillena cox 2019

Blog hopping today with
Poets United

Midweek Motif ~ Weather


REVISIT
Whether Weather
Soaked to the bone
Onions

Monday, July 8, 2019

A MEETING WITH A GENIE (A tale, its fiction, not a poem)

A long long time ago, and far far away from home. A girl meets a genie. The genie offers her one wish, only she has to play strip poker with him, and this game has to be played in his bottle. How does a 20th century girl fit into a genie's bottle, you might ask. I have not the answer to riddles nor magic.

Okay so they make a date of it, this strip poker thing, this game, right there in the grey ambiance of a hustling Portobello Road. Then, he vanishes, as any good genie would.

She set about looking to buy herself a pack of playing cards. She knows the suits: diamonds(are a girl's best friend), hearts (oh the red queen of Alice's dream), spades (calling it as it is), clubs (ah yes, those meeting places and fun adults). She buys herself an attractive pack. Poker? poker? all the games she knows are go fish and old maid. Sadly sadly she must up her game plan.

A good distance behind the cell phone era, she calls her girl pal on the telephone. Ring ring.

"Yes i know the place, " answers girl pal. "There is a genie's bottle there?"

"Oh grown up! A crib is a space, is a bottle" she scolds girl pal dryly.

"So do you know how to play poker"

"Hear about the game lots, never played it i could ask my brother "

"O well guess i'll just have to be clumsy, play i wanted to win, and sulk while stripping. Oh and did i tell you? he is a wizard in the kitchen. Pots and pans dance to his every tune"

"Well then bon appetit, and go easy on the wine"

You had to go there didn't you, the easy bit i mean"

"Well ta taa, talk to you soon"
A MEETING WITH A GENIE © gillena cox 2019 (A tale, its fiction, not a poem)



image credit


Written for Poets United
Telling Tales with Magaly Guerrero: a Pantry of Prose, #5 ~ Away from Home


Monday WRites 213


WORTH READING
There's always a story worth reading
A tale that someone has told
A story waiting for the sharing
With pictures sometimes in tow
There is for sure a story worth reading
Sitting alone or in company of friend
Always it is worth the listening
As to all present a story is read
Imagine the fun if you were being
The star in that story as it unfolds
Surely there is a story worth reading
WORTH READING © gillena cox 2019

how to construct The Fold poem


Here in T&T, school's out until September, leaving time for holiday camps, travel to vist family and friends abroad, and good old fashioned reading books for fun.
You've heard about the Monday Blues ❧✿❧ well this is Monday WRites (musing on the definition here of rite, as any customary observance or practice eg the rite of afternoon tea). A Happy Monday to all
Welcome to Monday WRites #213, ❧✿❧ What's your mood like today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites.


verses

Copy this code, pin my button to your blog



Blog Hopping today with

Mosaic Monday #35 - Montana Freedom

AND


Blue Monday
:Graveyard Blues


❧✿❧

REVISIT
8 July 2016
8 July 2015


ENJOY THE MUSIC




Monday, July 1, 2019

Monday WRites 212


[all photos in today mosaic are oldies some you may have seen singly before]

WHETHER WEATHER
What's the weather like in your part of the world?
Weather you are in the throes of summer
Or whitewashed under winters's stole
The task is to weather those life storms
In gentle hope in your part of the world
Pray, plan, please our planet kindly
Submit to a higher wiser knowing spirit to hold
Us once more in tender embrace
We do not own this planet, we manage it, i'm told
Caregivers all: you and me, neighbours and friends
Steady, reins of stewardship, in your part of the world
WHETHER WEATHER © gillena cox 2019

how to construct The Fold poem


Hoping the weather is kind to you where ever you may be
You've heard about the Monday Blues ❧✿❧ well this is Monday WRites (musing on the definition here of rite, as any customary observance or practice eg the rite of afternoon tea). A Happy Monday to all
Welcome to Monday WRites #212, ❧✿❧ What's your mood like today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites.


verses

Copy this code, pin my button to your blog



Blog Hopping today with

Mosaic Monday #34 - Hail!

AND


Blue Monday: Hints of Blue


❧✿❧


ENJOY THE MUSIC




Wednesday, June 26, 2019

663


[image from Google dot com]

TO SCHOOL AND BACK
As a child i walked to school and back
Holding my younger sister's hand we went our way
Our school bags had straps, we sang songs of knapsacks
We walked in plain white sneakers called (crepesoles)
Laced up the front, we walked to school and back
We scrubbed and whitened with liquid white polish
Our (crepesoles); laces we washed then laced them back
Walking home from school, there were stop points
Mango trees, Tamarind trees, boys pelted stones, whack!
Fruit fell, we all, girls and boys scrambled a few
Though far, we walked all the same to school and back
TO SCHOOL AND BACK © gillena cox


Blog hopping today with

Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Walk



THIS POEM IS A DRY DAY, A LITTLE ADVENTURE, A BRIDGE
This poem is a dry day
This poem is a little adventure
This poem is a bridge

The mud, still squelching after the rain,
Leaves nothing to anyone's gain,
Least of all to a timid little girl,
Her hair forever sets in a stray curl,
This poem is a dry day.

They set out to go to a school friend's house,
Why does she have to be such a mouse?
We all walk in sapats with tyre straps,
Our wooden soles sounds a racket in laps,
This poem is a little adventure.

Oh come on we all walked across the plank
Why didn't you stay back if you're such a blank
Come on, the wooden plank is sturdy
Oh come on cross over cross over hurry
This poem is a bridge

This poem is a dry day, this poem is a little adventure, this poem is a bridge
THIS POEM IS A DRY DAY, A LITTLE ADVENTURE, A BRIDGE
© gillena cox


Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Bridge





DURABLY BAD
Plastic Bag looked might sad
We choked some whales a tad
Surely we are out
Without any doubt
They say we are just durably bad
DURABLY BAD © gillena cox


Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Plastic bag




REVISIT
26 June 2017