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image first published HERE

The Wild Grasses

The wild grasses lean with the wind

Their pas de deux a rhythm of the mind

That synchronizes the ocean  breezes

Through seasons and transgresses

The limitations of mere mortals

The souls of passages and portals

Those pilgrims who must journey but

The wild grasses surrender and cut

Through the paces of the melody

That alludes to an inherent parody

The conscious human thinker craves

To imitate in desiring so he behaves

Though others of his kind call him crazy

The complete or adorable looney

Those wild grasses are caution free

The wild grasses grow then they rest

Their dance with the wind is the test

To grow again without question

The best or worst of a next generation

They ponder not of today or tomorrow

The coming of joy or of sorrow

page 13 Pink Crush © gillena cox 2011

published by authorhouse 

Now that my muse has kicked in; this post edited,  poem 2 added, Wednesday April 6th.

EAT

Eat greedily of children's tears

Eat wearily of soldier's boots

Eat heartily of sunflower's strewn

Eat of the mud of covetness

Eat and be nutured by today's pain

Eat, pray for forgiveness of corpses strewn

Eat now of divinity of love

Eat for the nourishment of earth's healing

Eat your fill of bird song

Eat the fruit of joy in a new day

Eat your fill of cotton candy cloud

Eat of hope in tomorrow

© gillena cox 2022

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A little repetition

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911

When wind is right for kite flying

And poui trees dress up for sight seeing 

Even back then in lock down days

Nature still held to her awesome ways 

No springtime for us

Even though we got the Sahara dust

Tis our Dry Season

© gillena cox 2022

 

Welcome to Monday WRites # 343

You've heard about the Monday Blues ❧✿❧well this is  Monday WRites  (musing on the definition here of rite, as any customary observance for eg the rite of afternoon tea). 

If you have a Monday post at your blog you can share at the linky. There is no prompt. All that's required is that your post is a Monday post

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A Jigzone puzzle to fit online (6 pieces)
❧✿❧Today's mosiac pink poui

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Mosaic Monday #172:Bolton Abbey

AND

Monday Quadrille 149 Tis The Season

A season is a division of the year based on changes in weather, ecology, and the number of daylight hours in a given region. On Earth, seasons are the result of Earth’s orbit around the Sun and Earth’s axial tilt relative to the ecliptic plane. — Wikipedia 

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910

image from the internet

THE MIC PUT DOWN

Our skies, yielding grief 

As a soca icon passes on;

 Bidding goodbye in disbelief 

All those songs rekindled; 

This March sky, yielding grief. 

Young and old and in between,

 Remembering a refrain or motif; 

He chose to render to his fans, 

While building in no way brief, 

A legacy, to culture and art form; 

Soca, this March, yielding grief. 

THE MIC PUT DOWN © gillena cox 

 #At the passing of soca idol Dexter “Blaxx” Stewart,   

Titan of Soca  READ MORE HERE

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OLN #313 Spring has sprung 

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NOTE
How to construct The Fold Poem HERE and HERE

ENJOY THE MUSIC:Blaxx - Hulk "2018 Soca" (Red Boyz Music)(Trinidad)

909

Sunflower art credit 

❧✿❧

 No bondage is worse than the hope of happiness.’– Carlos Fuentes, Diana: The Goddess Who Hunts Alone, Bloomsbury, 1995 

 HOPE BONDAGED

 Then let us never be free;

Of not knowing, yet hoping for,

Blue skies, even though every tree,

Is felled by an angry wind;

Too unkind.  Let us never be free,

Of the wish of sunflowers

 Blooming in every heart, key

To the door of peace and stability;

When greed ravishes the sea,

Big fish swallowing the small

In gulps, let us never be free.

© gillena cox 2022

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Poetics: Opening Sentences of Famous Novels

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succor of hope

NOTE
How to construct The Fold Poem HERE and HERE

908

Today's mosiac White Plumerias
 

Welcome to Monday WRites # 342

You've heard about the Monday Blues ❧✿❧well this is  Monday WRites  (musing on the definition here of rite, as any customary observance for eg the rite of afternoon tea). 

If you have a Monday post at your blog you can share at the linky. There is no prompt. All that's required is that your post is a Monday post

Copy this code, pin my button to your blog
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A Jigzone puzzle to fit online (6 pieces)
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Mosaic Monday #171:Leeds And Liverpool Canal

AND

Haibun Monday 3-28-22

Cherry Blossoms

Always, the falling blossoms of sakura holds me in awe. This awe is as a result of virtual viewing. To match this, i have read about this awesome phenomenon via the internet. 

My favourite reading, is a

fable about a girl named Sakura and a tree called Yohiro (hope), it tells the story of a true love that never ends.  read more here

 

Long story made short. A fairy turns Yohiro into a man giving his a destined span of life. He sees Sakura, helps her carry water to her house. They continue to meet, fall in love and Yohiro tells her the truth about himself.

At the appointed time he turns back into the lonely tree that he was originally. Sakura hugs the tree telling him she loved him. The fairy grants her the wish of merging them together and the tree blossomed for the first time and every spring thereafter.

cherry petals fall

friends and family gather -

miracle of love

© gillena cox 2022

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REVISIT

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DESTINED

There are lots of things to be done

Only on a sultry day like

 Today

When sunshine hiding behind clouds

So thick and fluffy like cotton

Candy

My mouth waters from desire

Not only for sky but for life 

Gifted 

Blessed grace to all of us folk

Awake this precious tomorrow

Again

I saw curved moon in morning light

And pondered waxing and waning

Habits

Let alone mood swings depression

Emotions of joy and delight

Ever

The cautions of life to carry

Continuing on a journey

Destined

To an everlasting sphere where 

Time and space need not have cause of

Worry

© gillena cox 2022

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Poetry Form: Synchronicity

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Sunday morning moringa
destined unions
hallowed is her name
tomorrow
gaping empty tomb
the cottage
clutching assuredly
...a destined maiden

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image credit

KIS KA DEE KIS KA DEE BIRD SONG I LOVE

 First light with pigeons cooing

Soon Kiskadees will add songs

To paint a morning so alluring

One can only whisper tiny prayers

Such is dawn with pigeons cooing

Little nuisance to start the day

Those pigeons and their crapping

What a mess they leave on eaves

I much prefer kiskadees singing

In azure skies their name

Morning's coming with pigeons cooing

© gillena cox 2022

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Colour Me Poetry 

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