Friday, December 2, 2016

326


[clip art from google dot com]

I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says “Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.” – Lewis Carroll

WINTER WONDROUS WARMTH
Twas such a wondrous time of sleep
Earth her blankets, white in heap
And when the night encroached on day
There lay he asleep, warm in the hay

Twas songs of angels, with riotous joy
Told everyone of, this darling little boy
Wise Kings three, and shepherds, went there
To wish him welcome, from far and from near.
WINTER WONDROUS WARMTH © gillena cox 2016

Blog hopping today at

Prompt Nights
Winter my dear would be cold without warm memories – [37]

❧✿❧

[video of choice today]

Thursday, December 1, 2016

325


[image from google dot com]

AND THE NEXT
Dreams are places waiting to explore,
Vast expansions of borders shifting
Shifting what never existed, only what is
For certain, a sphere, a realm remote

Reality becomes, on awakening,
That place to return to, only its not,
For where lies eternity, is where,
Crossroads of time would merge

Into a mist of hazy momentum, there,
Yielding walls, partition out evanescence
For surely, here time records breath
The next one, and the next, and awakening
AND THE NEXT © gillena cox 2016

Blog hopping today at
Imaginary Garden With Real Toads
Out of Standard - Future/Tense


Tuesday, November 29, 2016

324


[play doh art by Zuri & gramma Gillena Cox]

If we leave creation to the hands of a child, whorls of possibilities enfold, circles and swirls which life envisions, these are lines that can sparkle spiders, to the web of nursery rhymes, where juices and jelly beans are caught in the pattern to sunlight, crafting day to day additions to shapes and flavours, all of which are necessary to definitions of play and dough.

smiley faces -
just as wind lifts the curtain
one more dot added
© gillena cox 2016


Blog hopping at
Imaginary Garden With Real Toads
Tuesday Platform open mic

Monday, November 28, 2016

Monday WRites 85


[image from myway dot com]

COCONUT FUDGE
This poem is sweet
This poem is a candy
This poem is the sacrifice of a mother's hands
This poem is fudge

Thick as treacle, brown as chocolate
The smooth yummy-ness
Melts on your tongue, sweet.

White coconut meat, scrawled
Across tin grater, steady and firm,
Hands of a mother. Milk of the nut
Squeezed through a strainer

Bubble bubble what's the hurry?
Take your time, thicken
To just right consistency.
Beat beat, a rhythm from the ladle
Wooden and willing,
Thick enough is the treacle.

Spread in a shallow pan.
Buttered is better, pat tenderly.
Sweet as can be, mark out,
Then cut the cutest little cubes.

This poem is candy, children to delight.
This poem is coconut fudge, a bit of cocoa powder mixed in.
COCONUT FUDGE © gillena cox 2016

[image from myway dot com]

Process Note
The Mother's hands in this poem are not mine, but those of my mother, who made for me as a child (and my other siblings) delicious fudge and sugar cakes. I cannot make these sweets even if my life depended on it, Thanks Mom for these precious little gifts of delight.



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).
Welcome to Monday WRites #85, ❧✿❧ What's your mood like today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites



verses




Blog hopping at
Imaginary Garden With Real Toads
Weekend Mini Challenge: Cooking up a storm

Saturday, November 26, 2016

322


[image from google dot com]

STILETTO CORRIDORS
I
Cave dwelling
Around the fire the family eats
There's meat on the spit
Woman she, serves her brood
The men have put away theirs spears
Till the next hunt

II
Drawn to the light
At the tunnel's end
He wears the suit
The jacket and the pants
She has laundered them
With acceptance for such is love
She is, the good wife

III
Stiletto corridors
She tick tocks to
A new time clock
She wears the tight, tight skirts
She wears the pants too
Brings home the bacon
And she fries it
STILETTO CORRIDORS © gillena cox 2016


Written for Prompt Nights
When diving into the possibilities of Role Reversal – [36]


❧✿❧

[video choice today]

Friday, November 25, 2016

321

Unicorn and Phoenix by Carol Law Conklin Batik Artist used with special permission courtesy The imaginary Garden]


With her tiny pointing finger, she wonders at the moon, a child of my heart so small so cute, there is magic all around, for the moon is big and round, and grandma sings, a sweet smelling song. Plumerias white in the night, centers of yellow, like moon or like sun. Not every song, is lullaby in the night.
light of the moon -
heartbeats write the love songs
for a grandchild

© gillena cox 2016

Blog hopping today at
Artistic Interpretations with Margaret - Carol Law Conklin Batik Artist
Imaginary Garden With Real Toads
Margaret's prompt

Monday, November 21, 2016

Monday WRites 84


[Jesse tree image from google dot com]

Inside the void of waiting, a crystal shines brighter than any dazzle could dare, Its name is stellar, its colour is clear, its passion is potent as source, as life blood. Yet its size is miniscule, like the tiniest seed or grain. For all that it needs to nuture being, is its reality.
season of Advent -
again faces are turned to
journey and a star

© gillena cox 2016



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).
Welcome to Monday WRites #84, ❧✿❧ What's your mood like today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites



verses



Linked to

Carpe Diem Special
Japanese Poetry In The Lowlands #4 Mariƫtte Schrijver


Will link also to
Imaginary Garden With Real Toads
The Tuesday Platform