1425

[AI generated dragon; edited at Picsart]

Until another taught trends its way in, i leave this dream to awaken to sunlight: soft in the morning haze and torrid as hell at noontime. 

 When the darkness returns stark as the surety of orbiting planets, i sense you, i know you, creature of shadows. For i am the creature who smells your darkest thoughts. Knowing whether you be phantom of ghost. 

 Nurturing a young moon has its challenges, should she be bright as a carnival shimmer, or curved as a hosay crescent. There are questions to be pondered, you know.

© gillena cox 2026

Blog Hopping Today With
 Prosery: Of Jaguars and the Night

Challenge to use the line--“I am the creature who smells your darkest thoughts”
From “Jaguar Song.” by Arthue Sze

REVIST
20230720
 20200720

 20160720 

NOTE

To answer questions posed in comments i had edited this post to add noted and hyperlinks

Hosay is a solemn festival about 2 martyrs. observed by the muslims in T&T. The festival exyends to the streets with art  and music. Both muslims and non muslims look forward to the street art the drumming and food with family and friends. Moon sightings deceide the dates for the festival

HOSAY 2008
HOSAY 2015

1424

 Tower darkening on.

And now from heaven’s height, 

Night showering upon,

The sleepy village site.

To what questions.

The closed window shutters,

Tight and safe from,

The torrents.

The moon's hidden play.

A game of bright here,

And gone to coy behind,

A shadow of cloudy sphere.

Is the night her playground.

To hide and seek the poetry,

Of a writer's craft,

Or his fantasy.

© gillena cox 2026

The line "Tower darkening on. And now from heaven’s height," - is from  A Thunderstorm by Archibald Lampman (1861-1899)

Blog Hopping Today With
 Open Link Night #411

REVIST
20180716
 20160716

..... ........ 

1423

[AI generated]

 Night accompanies with a slice  of solace

A cup of charcoal sky simmers with a chameleon moon

How i luv your spooky accusations

Ghosts, goblins headless horsemen

Wandering through the heads of poets and dreamers

Night trails on the hem of my skirt

The lullabys of a doting mother

The bedtime stories children crave

Night carries it own agenda of wants and wishes

That nusiance no one appreciates is night

When the night is too long for a herd of cattle or sheep

Counted in infinite anguish

Night is the tortorous slave master

Admonishing his serfs to the toil of numbering

Oh night who has conceived thee

To darkness and the gesture of an afterthought of stars?

© gillena cox 2026

Blog Hopping Today With
 “My God, It’s Full of Stars”

REVIST
STARRY STARRY NIGHT
 SECRETS ALIVE IN THE NIGHT

STARS AT NIGHT - A FOLD

1422

[ image from Pinterest]

 Puff Of Dust

A sun shinning, 

as bright as a yolk

And honey 

sweet of the comb drips

Into this day walking 

the Farmer Gray

Such was the temper 

of this particular path

Suddenly rising 

a puff of dust

Result of the tractor's

rumbling wheels 

chug chugging.

© gillena cox 2026

Blog Hopping Today With
 Q 251 Light Burst of Air 

REVIST
20230713
20210713

20200713

1421

Can a poem stand on one leg

Sure it can if it were a heron

With tall words whose meaning

Spanned cultures and societies

When worded like butter spread

On bread slices for a yummy breakfast

When the honey sweet from the bee

Adds willingness to a teaspoon of medicine

Then the tranformation of images

To new ideas poems readers consciousness

Building castles no knight need to guard

The poet magically pulls the rabbit

Out from his hat with abra ca dabra

Words formed from syllables of dreams

No red wagons need have wheels

It's a poem wrought from a dream

And love can be courted yet not counted

For words are infinite to a poet's muse

The span of a butterfly's wing

The depth of a whale's dive

All of these measures a poem records

© gillena cox 2026

Blog Hopping Today With
MBT: Ars Poetica Revisited 

REVIST
20190626
20180626

20170626

1420

[images in this collage; courtesy dVerse Poets pub]

 Celebration: the bloom of fireworks sounding night sky,

Statements: louder that birds whistling-in the day,

And yet: a purple weed is bowing low,

In solemnity: of a life spanned that once was aglow,

You must have had: a yellow center imaging the sun,

That was when: life was full as pregnant moon,

Oh wait: are those sparks to light the dark,

Really: can the night ever lose her charcoal,

When: can the question of blooming be parallel to soul,

Maybe: when futures meet again

Revisiting the past: in prophecy of tomorrows.

© gillena cox 2026

Blog Hopping Today With
 Poetics: A Tale of Two Images 

  

REVIST
20210623
........

.........

1419

A two season clime, we look toward Rainy Season and Dry Season. And now-a-days, folks will tell you these seasons are less clearly defined, since climate change is now the norm.

Still, here in Trinidad and Tobago🇹🇹 solstices are defined by the sun's maximum tilt, marking the longest and shortest days of the year. Because the islands are close to the equator, daylight differences  are less extreme than in higher latitudes. The longest day of the year yields about 1 hour and 15 minutes more daylight than the shortest day.

And too, here, solstice is more so a nuance, and something, realized by those of scientific or meteological minds

coolness of morning -

through the opened window

bird songs and whistles

© gillena cox 2026

NOTE: I googled for info on the solstices as it would apply to Trinidad and Tobago

Blog Hopping Today With
  Haibun Monday 6-22-26: First Solstice  

  

REVIST
20230622
20200622

.20170622