527

[image from Bing dot com]


SOAKED TO THE BONE
"Passing cloud" old wizened ones sighed.
Sun rays held hands,
Dancing through morning bird songs,

Some angels, held sway, in cloud puffs.
Jealous of the delight, of shards of light,
Kissing ocean ripples and window panes,
These sky babes,
Like spoilt children stamping feet
In playground squabbles,
Rained down upon noon time.

And, since it was The Dry Season,
Many an umbrella was left at home,
Resting weary Rainy Season ribs.
Many many pedestrians were soaked to the bones.
"Passing cloud" old wizened ones sighed.
SOAKED TO THE BONE © gillena cox 2018


Revisit
5 April 2015


Blog hopping today with imaginary garden. In April we write a poem every day

Take the Weather With You
Prompted by Paul John Dear; challenged: Pen me a weather related poem.

526

[ Yellow Poui from Pinterest]



CHORUSES
My lips quiver to monotones,
Day in, day out, they chant
Of Hail Mary's.
The surcease of doubt,
In the face of hope,
Like blooms of Poui hallelujah.
Greet thee Easter chords of my chant.
Then sing these choruses,
Then repeat your reply,
For this plan of creation,
It is His, not mine.
CHORUSES © gillena cox 2018


Revisit
4 April 2017
4 April 2015


Blog hopping today with imaginary garden. In April we write a poem every day

April Four - transformations
Prompted by Brendan; challenged: For today’s Poems in April challenge, write a poem about the vantages available to you. How many selves sing for you... Show us the panoply or use one persona to introduce us to the whole.

525

[image from Bing dot com]

WEDDING SONNET
Ballons are such joyous sacs.
Filled with awesome elation.
Even if you turn your backs,
You are steeped in jubilation.

All rise to greet her, new bride.
Bedecked in royal splendor she.
Going to be at her husband's side,
Tis her day, he waits patiently.

And so in this sacred place,
A vow of oneness blessed divine,
With ministers to plead each case,
Feast acclaim of bread and wine.

Now two are one in boundless time.
Symbol of rings spent to honour,
Must one to the other each a prime,
To voyage to journey set in favour.

Whence heaven with her bounteous smile,
Ride overhead, clouds of angels on high.

WEDDING SONNET © gillena cox 2018


Revisit
3 April 2017
3 April 2016


Blog hopping today with imaginary garden. In April we write a poem every day

Tuesday Platform: NaPoWriMo Style
Prompted by Rommy; its open mic

AND


Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Beginnings


Enjoy The Music

Monday WRites 148

[for today's mosaic, i used 5 internet images]

SECOND CHANCES
Paradise again in sight,
To approach gate where angels keep guard,
Get close enough to pick some fruit,
Lay in the splendor of grasses lush,
Picnic to sparkling wine, fruit of vine,
All this for price of Reedeming Blood,
The Stone rolled away to clear a path,
To call out Our Father,
A Second chance, again to be heirs.
SECOND CHANCES © gillena cox 2018



❧✿❧
HAPPY EASTER. 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 #148, ❧✿❧ What's your mood like today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites

ENJOY THE MUSIC



❧✿❧

Blog hopping today with imaginary garden. In April we write a poem every day

April Second
Prompted by Karin and challenged "second," in any of its forms, is your prompt for today

AND


Mosaic Monday # 79


❧✿❧

REVISIT
2 April 2017
2 April 2015

523

FIRST WOMAN-BLOOD
Knots and medals, songs and pledges to survival, all these tie in to Menarche Days. Here we are on Camp. "April Jubilee Friendship Camp Trinidad at Golden Groove, 1964" hosts Girl Guides from various countries and walks of life. We eat our slices of cantaloupes at breakfast. For me, it is the first time i am tasting this fruit. Bright, beautiful as morning sun rising, sweet and delicious.
However; later in the evening, embarrassment hones its way in, in a wet sticky way. I feel a bit left out of the bigger picture; and i silently, [in my mind] wag a finger of disapproval at my mother, because the other girls tell me, it was their mother, not their father, who had explained to them about The Menstrual Cycle.

camp fire songs
under a bright night's moon -
first woman-blood
FIRST WOMAN-BLOOD © gillena cox 2018


REVISIT
1 April 2016
1 April 2015 #39
1 April 2015 #40


Blog hopping today with imaginary garden. In April we write a poem every day

April One / One Love
Prompted by Marian and challenged to Let's write poems about being first, or on the subject of one--the power of one, one love, first in line, one is the loneliest number, we're number one--you got it. Go!

522

TREASURES
Precious fluid is ink scrawling in
conversations of preserving
in quiet time,
when sleep spreads a blanket of sky,
and stars twinkle, to rhythm of cobalt night,
then mostly,
communion of ink scrawlers start their trysts.

Precious are these phases of constructs,
building syllables, stacking words, weaving treasures,
when poetic muses hold their simultaneous assemblies.

Only at the level of similar thoughts
do these councils meet,
sometimes tapping letters; uppercase,
lowercase, hyphens and accents.

They weaves their wonders [each in his own space]
and,
store these treasures, knowing future seekers
someday will exclaim a find.
TREASURES © gillena cox 2018


Revisit
31 March 2016
31 March 2015


Blog Hopping with

Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Treasure
Sumana is prompting

Monday WRites 147

[Today's Mosaic revisits some of my past Hosanna images]


SINGING HOSANNA
As we sing our Hosannas,
We remember a time,
When a Saviour on a donkey,
Was held in esteem high;
Only later to be denied,
Yet later still,
His forgiveness we did secure.
So we sing our Hosannas,
A people redeemed,
By grace so given.
SINGING HOSANNA © gillena cox 2018

Hosanna

On Palm Sunday, we celebrate the first joy of the season of Lent remembering the triumphant into Jerusalem of Jesus the Messiah. But this is only the beginning of Holy Week, the greatest tragedy and sorrow of the year for Christians. A Happy Holy Week to all: Sunday, 25 March to Saturday, 31 March 2018.
❧✿❧
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 #147, ❧✿❧ What's your mood like today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites

ENJOY THE MUSIC



❧✿❧

Blog hopping with


#78

AND


Tuesday Platform


❧✿❧

REVISIT
26 March 2016
Holy Week 2017