Monday, January 31, 2022
885
Thursday, January 27, 2022
884
MAKE SOME MUSIC
I suppose on a sunny day
Buds glance a ray
Skies of azure
There be colour
However bright the pencil point
Words can anoint
A story told
In format bold
So wander not to far afield
Keep both eyes peeled
Voice those sad songs
To eager throngs
© gillena cox 2022
Tuesday, January 25, 2022
883
WHOLENESS
All the people i have met
In a lifespan designed
They have shifted sand
Beneath the toes of evenings
Relationships ebb leaving
Longing sighs and tender looks
Angry suns burnish cool skin
To an already cinnamon glow
In truth each day is a universe
In which we are tangled in the light
Of stars only wanting to be
The natural twinklers we are
© gillena cox 2022
Monday, January 24, 2022
882
❧✿❧A look through the window In wet weather
pinwheel jasminesshiver through gentle breezes -drizzle follows
Then in sunny weather like today, a mockingbird might skip along the cut lawn. Its scent drawing her in? Her eyes can see a pecking ground from afar.© gillena cox 2022
❧✿❧
Wednesday, January 19, 2022
881
The weight of words is surely
Heavily loaded unto those of us
Earning a light passage of seemingly
Shallow phrases wrought from
Afternoon tea and cookies
Unless we search deeper and
Research our terms keener
Useless reckoning will befall
Such poets of lazy mettle
Monday, January 17, 2022
880
MOI?
"Me? Why me of all people. Why do i have to leave my house to go on a picnic. The last time i did such a thing my children were toddlers. My husband was smitten with me and the Hollows was as green and eco friendly as God's Paradise. So why now. Why this. Do you owe me a favour i do not know about."
"And bring no book, for this one day We’ll give to idleness." He said.
And i muttered is he some kind of poet nut or some such sort?
© gillena cox 2022
Prosery 1/20/20: “The Rock cries out…”
Prosery - Bombarded
Prosery - Here’s the thing about existing
Thursday, January 13, 2022
879
MARKET PLACE TALES
Tattletale and Fish scale
Found themselves at the market place.
Tattletale was the one to speak,
There be herrings? let me sneak a peek.
Fish scale, no one wants to take home.
These days of the busy buyers aplomb.
The pumpkins were rough and pulpy and round.
Buyers all wanted a cut or a pound.
No one stopped to listen to Tattletale;
Always one for gossip and ale.
Fish scale decides to play it cool,
Laying on the surface of herring smooth.
I'll take the whole fish!
Was a buyers wish,
Who grabbed a cut of pumpkin for soup,
This left Tattletale in a bit of a loop.
Everyone so busy
No time to listen
To gossip or to tales,
Masked buyers at the market space,
For these be pandemic days.
© gillena cox 2022
REVISIT
3 poem tweets and giggles
worth reading
oompalapillar
Tuesday, January 11, 2022
878
gratitude 2020
gratitude 2019
Monday, January 10, 2022
Monday WRites 331
....present muse
...to my muse