Monday WRites 90

[animation from google dot com]

FIRST THINGS FIRST
When first i stared under the microscope,
Wonder of wonders, there loomed the hope,
In tiny things, fairy tales,
The invisibles, became real;
Laid out bare, in high school kaleidoscope.
FIRST THINGS FIRST © gillena cox 2017

<br /> <a href="http://myblog-verses.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdj6SWRyNup04Tu-DHdHku-eZ46dPvdR1behyQDeWRkQXoqB8Pr9TDH7LXreco7jHeqxnDlOzlpnWCxnnIcZ6yu9Mtgpe4qv8trNe-9jfOesQgdvblbagwRByQNI0sgZ26mwN4lVUk_NeL/s200/mw.jpeg" alt="verses" /></a><br />
FIRST MONDAY OF 2017 ❧✿❧ HAPPY NEW YEAR

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 #90, ❧✿❧ What's your mood like today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites





Linking to

Physics with Björn: Brownian Motion

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339

[Mark Webster - Abstract Geometric Futurist Mountain River Landscape Oil Painting
found through a google search]

GLASS CLIFF A MANTRA
The mountain loomed, huge in fantasy;
Real cartoon-shaped clouds just hung there;
Neither sitting or shifting;
Far away, above them all, were the frozen dreams,
Of a storybook girl;
She had to climb that mountain,
She had to reclaim them,
For had she not dreamed,
They would not have sprouted nylon wings,
Whereupon sunlight glinted, if they stayed within reach;
Glass cliff, she whispered, glass cliff, she chanted,
Glass cliff she shouted,
And in a magical, mystical moment
She scaled that mountain, with her hair pulled back in a bun,
Straight to the topmost shelf;
Stretched out her hand, and grabbed her volant prize
GLASS CLIFF A MANTRA © gillena cox

Written for

Words Count With Mama Zen
Challenged by Mama Zen to write a poem using using at least one of The Oxford Dictionaries 'words of the year' 2016 short list given

Sorry i went a little over the (70 words count)

Monday WRites 89

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SEASONS GREETINGS
Smothered in star-shine, i refuse to
Shake off the Christmas hype;
Slowly, i sink back into childhood days of
Santa; alleged fat guy in red suit going on
Sleigh rides, all over the globe;
Stopping at chimney-ed houses,
Stuffing stockings, unseen by circles of
Singing carolers; tis a
Season studded with Joy;
So what of houses without chimneys?
Santa!!!
Seasons greetings to all.
SEASONS GREETINGS © gillena cox 2016

<br /> <a href="http://myblog-verses.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdj6SWRyNup04Tu-DHdHku-eZ46dPvdR1behyQDeWRkQXoqB8Pr9TDH7LXreco7jHeqxnDlOzlpnWCxnnIcZ6yu9Mtgpe4qv8trNe-9jfOesQgdvblbagwRByQNI0sgZ26mwN4lVUk_NeL/s200/mw.jpeg" alt="verses" /></a><br />
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 #89, ❧✿❧ What's your mood like today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites






Will Link To

Tuesday Platform

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337

MERRY CHRISTMAS




COLLABORATING FOR CHRISTMAS
It was the day before Christmas, he was hungry, mighty hungry,
He stalked the pantry, the cupboards were empty,
He didn't want to sleep, he was too hungry for that
Guess what, no, not guest what? Guess what???

Shhhhhhhh!!!
The last festival he had eaten was, Halloween
No, not the last time he had eaten, the last festival!!!

For he was, The Eater Of Great Joy
But that, could never satisfy him.
Shudder, shudder!!!

He had heard about Santa.
He had heard about A Star.
Maybe he’s the magi
who never crossed the desert.

He felt so alone, so left back.
He waddled to the window,
For he thought he heard a flash
He opened his hungry mouth to taste stardust
Then he burped, and out flew Halloween
Spinning in reverse back to October.

Miracle of miracles, he felt his body shinning
He heard angels singing
He smelt a man in a red suit offering
Milk and cookies to him

Milk and cookies!!! are these eat-ables?
Yes! answered the dear old man and vanished
With a Ho Ho Ho

COLLABORATING FOR CHRISTMAS © gillena cox 2016

I am the prompter today at

We are collaborating for Christmas
In the above poem I have included two lines from Björn Rudberg
"Maybe he’s the magi
who never crossed the desert".

336

1 Day to Christmas

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"UNTITLED" (STAR)
In a corner of the world
where star dust leans in mounds
against an ebony sky line

A star is maturing fully
with points so sparkly sharp
the egos of kings to shatter

Yet three will remain intact
humbly mounting their camels
to travel wide and far

Creaky old knees to bend
in a manger alit
by thus pointed star
"UNTITLED" (STAR) © gillena cox 2016

Written for

A Skyflower Friday: Untitled
Kerry challenges us to choose a sculpture by Felix Gonzalez-Torres from his 'Untitled' series and write a new poem, with the same method of title. The content and style of the poem is open, but we should take our cue from "issues of identity, desire, originality, loss, the metaphor of journey"

I chose "Untitled"(A Corner of Baci)

Monday WRites 88

Joseph Mulamba-Mandangi, Nativity, 2001
source: Nativity paintings from around the world


AVE AVE AVE
“I am the handmaid of the Lord,” Luke 1:38

If you pause a while,
I’ll tell you a story,
Of the world’s greatest mother;

Conceived with child,
Only for heaven’s glory,
Espoused of God, the father;

“Yes,” without guile
Replied our Mary
Gentle maid, she won God’s favour;

Her faithful style,
We, daily remember,
And sing ave, ave, ave; of her.
AVE AVE AVE 2004 gillena cox



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 #88, ❧✿❧ What's your mood like today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites

<br /> <a href="http://myblog-verses.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdj6SWRyNup04Tu-DHdHku-eZ46dPvdR1behyQDeWRkQXoqB8Pr9TDH7LXreco7jHeqxnDlOzlpnWCxnnIcZ6yu9Mtgpe4qv8trNe-9jfOesQgdvblbagwRByQNI0sgZ26mwN4lVUk_NeL/s200/mw.jpeg" alt="verses" /></a><br />

Linking also to

Tuesday Platform


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334

❧✿❧ 7 Days To Christmas❧✿❧

[image from google dot com]

OF TWILIGHT AND FISHERS OF MEN
And, before that renowned midnight,
Of glorious angelic singing voices;
To the silence and shepherds afield;
Came the twilight finale, emerging stars;
Twinkling, day and night sparkling prophesy;
In tongues of scions, and stocks of Jesse;
Sumptuous in rough skins of wild honey,
In disturbed nests of locusts winged;
For nary any such appointment,
Again, ever shall be given for Eden's fall,
For these are, for certain, the last days.
OF TWILIGHT AND FISHERS OF MEN © gillena cox 2016

blog hopping today at

The Final Twilight ~ Micro Poetry
Kerry has challenged us to write a poem limit 25 lines...our frame of reference is 'The Final Twilight', quoted from Jorge Luis Borges ~ The Wolf.

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