Friday, January 15, 2016


image from google dot com

Where is this place called silence?
Where no bombs blast, and no mother's heart
Laments a son or daughter lost in the wink
Of a moon, hiding behind shadowed clouds?
Ants busy along a wall, caught in side-glimpses
Cause heads to turn
Stars shooting with lustrous tails,
Imprinted in inky black skies, enough
To turn a mermaid's soul green
Out of ear shot, these stars they twinkle,
Yet, Linked to heart and mind;
Is there ever a place called silence?
SILENCE © gillena cox 2016

Written for Sanaa's Prompt Nights -


Dried stalks, how they talk and talk
And the wind dances, thinking its their song
Then my feet, trample on fallen ones
In conversation, in response
RESPOND © gillena cox 2016

blog hopping today at
Artistic Interpretations with Margaret - Maria Wulf's Visual Poems II
Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

Margaret challenges us with a set of short video clips :listen to the sounds of what you don't see, live in the moment, feel the emotions (or memories). Write in any poetic form you choose. I chose the clip ;Cut corn stalks in the wind'