Monday WRites 78

EVENING RAPPORT

WIND
Splashes of gold light fading day,
Where are all the bird songs going?
Feathered fun has left the wind,
To console silhouettes at shadow play;

MOON
Silence wind, tis time of slumber
When friend stars, in rust tipped humour,
Play at nighttime sparkle .

EVENING RAPPORT © gillena cox 2016
[inspired by 'Streamside exchange' by Nigerian poet John Pepper Clark]



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 #78, ❧✿❧ 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 />


Written in response to
A Splash of Rust & Gold ~ Micro Poetry

296

[image from google dot com]

ON A BROOMSTICK VIEWING
Face of reality torn,
From a book paged everyday drudgery,
The Phantom of the Opera sings;
To a night of masks,
From witches to fairies,
To bones macabre;
Let him write me a broomstick;
For to fly, far out -
Pumpkin viewing, carrying,
Light of star and moon.
ON A BROOMSTICK VIEWING © gillena cox 2016

Blog hopping at
Words Count With Mama Zen

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[my video choice today]

295

[image - The Owl And The Pussy Cat from yahoo dot com]

“Our language has wisely sensed the two sides of being alone. It has created the word “loneliness” to express the pain of being alone. And it has created the word “solitude” to express the glory of being alone.”
-– Paul Johannes Tillich


SOLITUDE
Deep in the chamber of solitude curled
A ring-gg ring-gg softly charms air furled
Yet not, do the tone to mind or ear reach
For far to low, chasm of solitude seeks
To court absolute attention to its bliss;
Thus being satiated in being alone, solitude
Is an amorous lover, jealous of intrusion
No telephone tones, nor voices calling
Can mar the perfect tide of flowing free
Thoughts, ideas, colours, on a clear sea
Calm waves ripple, in syllables uncharted
Traversing to an ocean wide and deep enough
To absorb, light, liquidity, and vastness
SOLITUDE © gillena cox 2016

Written for Sanaa's Prompt Night
Descent into the abyss of Solitude – [31]


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[my video choice for today Tu si 'na cosa grande ]

294

[sunset wallpaper from yahoo dot com]

GOLDEN TRANSITIONS
When golden clouds call, come
And you stand transfixed to some;

Glorious, inexplicable, ordinary
Eventide drama of a sky, so very

Coquettish in exiting, it leaves
A taste of yearning, and cleaves

To palate of somber silhouettes,
Waiting to embrace sleep pirouettes,

Maybe long after it has vanished,
A blend of wine to lips, a tryst

Instead, seductive souls do savour,
Insomniac sheep, naught to favour.
GOLDEN TRANSITIONS © gillena cox 2016


I'm blog hopping today at

The Tuesday Platform

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[My video choice of today - Мишель Легран Саксофон ~ Осенняя грусть]

Monday WRites 77

[image from google dot com]

HOLD PLEASE
Hold please!
Can, it take one more?
So the doors half-closing
Open one more,
Once squeezed inside,
I reflect on the faces
I noticed
From the outside;
Blank
Expressions
Fill the elevator,
Lucky some heart was
Warm enough to press
The hold button;
Phew!
It would have been
Waiting
Like eternity
For another lift
HOLD PLEASE © 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 #77, ❧✿❧ 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 to
Flash 55 Plus

292

[Flaming Poinciana, Flame tree,
Gulmohar, from google dot com]

PLAYING COLOURS AT POKER
I'll see you one red maple leaf
And raise you two thunder claps
Those angry wind songs are playing
Over The Atlantic

I'll see you one cold snap morning
And raise you two petals from
Flaming poinciana at Memorial Park
Where an angel respects our war memory

I'll see you one really long night
And raise you two parang tunes
Played on FM Sweet 100 days of Christmas
For anxious hearts already sway
To manger stories

I'll see you one crayon to colour autumn
And raise you two marac playing paranderos
To colour all paths to a season of joy
PLAYING COLOURS AT POKER © gillena cox 2016

Revisit
AUTUMN LEAVES
Where is everyone?
Leaves rest
On the park bench
To pattern...


Note
Here in Trinidad and Tobago, our seasons are 2; The Wet Season, and The dry Season, our clime does not display seasons of winter, summer, spring or fall


Photo-Glossary
[Memorial Park - Port of Spain, Trinidad]


[Trinidad lady paranderos playing marac and singing parang songs]


[Trinidad FM Sweet 100 radio station logo]



Written for and blog hopping today at
Prompt Nights –
Crunching, Crinkling Autumn swirling in the Breeze – [30]


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[my video choice for today is

time-out

won't take a minute
sharpening my pencil
how vast is our sky

pencil shavings curl
into ribbons of craft
delicate as a butterfly's wing

craft a paper boat
on a rainy day
turn it upside down for a hat

day broods a blank notepad
urging it to speak
its name or sing its song
© gillena cox 2016

in the meantime; enjoy!!!

Paper Windmill Jigsaw Puzzle