Monday WRites 60

Photo taken at The Indian Caribbean Museum; Waterloo, Trinidad; March 2012

DHOTIS AND ORHNIS
Fatel Razak rode the waves of hope and recovery
To sun baked days, in fields of King Sugar and Rum
Bare footed, bison and man, worked a path roughly
Strewn, with a music; orientally, ornately, flavoured
Yards of cloth carried waves of hope and recovery
Kholed eyes of women sought wrapped men in dhotis
Humbling themselves, to tread new mud, in a country
Squelched between their toes, their grip of a culture
Of homeland old, to eschew on the way to posterity
The rotis and chokas strengthened their tired bones
And daily they aspired on waves of hope and recovery
DHOTIS AND ORHNIS © gillena cox 2016

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Form - The FOLD

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1. Today is a holiday in Trinidad and Tobago
Happy Indian Arrival Day 2016
2. Fatel Razack was the first ship to bring indentured labourers from India to Trinidad
3. The dhoti Unstitched cloths, wrapped around the waist and the legs and knotted at the waist worn by men.
4. The Orhni A veil worn by women



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 #60, ❧✿❧ Whats your mood like today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites





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Will link also to The Tuesday Platform - Open Mic

Monday WRites 59

HIBISCUS
[version Sunday 29th May 2016]
She decorates hedges with delight
Pesky little girls, stick their tongues out
She however never ever, gets in a fight
Under skies, where bloom cumulus clouds
And a house where dogs bark, hedges with delight
Looping butterflies in passing may rest
Swaying in furls, what a pleasurable sight
Then off they go, on their journeying
All is profusion, in her blooming might
Wings dancing to the beat of a breeze
Left behind now, familiar, hedges with delight

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HIBISCUS
[version Monday WRites 59]
She decorates hedges with delight
Pesky little girls, stick their tongues out
But they never ever, get in a fight
Under skies, where bloom cumulus clouds
A house where dogs bark, hedges with delight
Looping butterflies in passing may rest
Swaying in furls, what a pleasurable sight
Then off they go, on their journeying
All is profusion, in her blooming might
Wings dancing to the beat of a breeze
Left behind, familiar, hedges with delight
HIBISCUS © 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 #59, ❧✿❧ Whats your mood like today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites




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<br /> <a href="http://myblog-verses.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0C9WPzL5kFEY1gEitLn4bC5inZjfq2beowWitvrD3zLruIRMxxj1RyrHw6Xcd6SlmEASrTd6rLFn4mfF8D8XC5Mz4ASE8iblAAmc3uaKNuHtYgvzIWajyH64D6kzlwugaU8wP610yKLRq/s320/button2Monday+WRites.jpg" alt="verses" /></a><br />

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Monday WRites 59; edited to link up to Bjorns prompt
The Butterfly Effect

235

[Trinidadian Leroi Clarke
mural from google dot com]

LOVE OF BEAUTY IS TASTE. THE
CREATION OF BEAUTY IS ART
To channel soul in colours - Love
Stemming tides of
Fanciful exposure, all for the sake of beauty
Can trees twitter? and birds sprout? is
This a mindful state to endure? this taste.
Strongly measured, in strokes and dabs. The
Spell which strangles reality in creation
And in processing, what of
New challenges, new ways in stating beauty
Cognizant of what is,
The 'already there', if only in the mind of Art
LOVE OF BEAUTY IS TASTE. THE CREATION OF BEAUTY IS ART © gillena cox 2016

This is my first attempt at line end acrostic, hope you enjoy this

Written for Prompt Nights -Love of beauty is taste. The creation of beauty is Art – [15]


AND

Linking to The Tuesday Platform

Monday WRites 58

[image from google dot com]

TWITTERED IN
Today i awake to twittering birds
Taste of night still clings to my tongue
Void of awakening fills my empty words
Sights from faraway spheres to inform
Hence, today i awake to twittering birds;
Still i hold the grey of tumbling thoughts
From sleep-drome where nothing girds
Fancy flights of wings effortless in form
Words tell tales in seconds and thirds
Thirsty my lips from wandering in awe
Whence, today i awake to twittering birds
TWITTERED IN © 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 #58, ❧✿❧ Whats your mood like today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites





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<br /> <a href="http://myblog-verses.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0C9WPzL5kFEY1gEitLn4bC5inZjfq2beowWitvrD3zLruIRMxxj1RyrHw6Xcd6SlmEASrTd6rLFn4mfF8D8XC5Mz4ASE8iblAAmc3uaKNuHtYgvzIWajyH64D6kzlwugaU8wP610yKLRq/s320/button2Monday+WRites.jpg" alt="verses" /></a><br />

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233

one feather a 2009 haiga

SOUNDING TIME
Every sound, universal in language;
Harmony of heartbeats, weathered
In time's eternal reality, wrought
Of hammer and anvil, carved
Rock, crafted stone;

Every sound, universal, a language;
Answers to river, flowing around
Hope, in path of time journeying,
Where destiny takes to flight,
Twittering birds

Every sound, universal in language;
Sketching hues, golden in sunsets;
Silver clouds, for morning dawns
Magnificent, in feathered callings;
Melody, for colour.
SOUNDING TIME © gillena cox 2016

Written for Sumana's
mid week motif ~ birds

Monday WRites 57

[image from google dot com]

NEW
What's new? we often ask, when filling gaps;
Expecting in turn, differences, between
Sunsets and sunrises, of yesterday's lapse;
Indeed, life shifts in particles, minute dust,
Ever in motion, thoughts unwind, filling gaps
Words speak, layering over creation's plans;
Nothing is new? only freshly served? perhaps!
Daily bread, consuming hunger, rewarding then
Task of nature, in bountiful kneading, overlaps
Giants are slumping, babies are crying, tis so
Will it ever stop? courage, when filling gaps.
NEW © 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 #57, ❧✿❧ Hope you like the new write animation [from google dot com] ❧✿❧Whats your mood like today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites




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231

HALLOWED IS HER NAME
And the maiden shall conceive and bear a son; Is 7:14

Angel of God descends from on high
Proclaiming a destiny, already realised
Her Yes prophesied, maiden meek and mild
She to carry the Jesus child

And a sword shall pierce your soul; Lu 2:35

Sorrow her anguish, potion of her cup
Yes! in pure kneading, bane of her bread
Foot of his cross, her heart there bleeding
Mother of nations to Heaven uplifting

O death, where is thy sting? 1 Cor 15: 55-57

To Death Land he descended anointed Christ
Son of Mary, destined to rise
A gaping hole his tomb a sign
Resurrection day cannot be denied
HALLOWED IS HER NAME © gillena cox 2016


written for Brendan MacOdrum's prompt

Sunday Mini-Challenge: Harrows and Hallows
Challenge: write about something that is both harrowing and hallowed.