1328

 So This Is Sweet T&T

It's the month of November;

Shaking shak shak, playing mandolin and

guitar,

Frilly shirts swaying below

The smiles of young girls, 

Singing in school parang, contests.

Christmas trees; tinseled, baubled,

Spring up in banks, restuarants,

And such like places, blinking lights.

So this is sweet T&T;

Where the candy canes appear,

In sweet shops and parlours,

Because St Nicholas feast is near.

Buy a pack!

Hear the crinkle of celophane

Opening them.

Every child loves a candy cane;

Maybe its the shape,

Or maybe the stripes,

They love them.

So this is sweet T&T;

Soca, parang, and Christmas tunes

Play on the radio one hundred day to Christmas

Its all about, black cake and sorrel,

Ginger beer and ponche de creme,

Feasting and feteing;

A boy born in a manger.

Long before we were born.

© gillena cox 2025

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1337

[AI generated]

 Quadrille - Coax

Who coaxed the stars from my night sky

And left a blanket of charcoal cloud

Were not i

The one who sang aloud

Soca songs for party days

To liven mood swings oft

And psalms fit for church ways

Seemingly not enough. 

My stars!

© gillena cox 2025

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Challenge: to write a quadrille given word coax

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1336

 Present Day Shopper

Who goes to market to buy a fat pig

When children's rhymes are all but near extinct

Today our grocery stores are chuck fill

Enough lables, fill the basket with fig

Tap tapping on key boards no need of ink

Who goes to market to buy a fat pig

When children's rhymes are all but near extinct

What ever you do hold onto your wig

Don't let it perish in the kitchen sink

Nor let it be damaged in just a blink

Who goes to market to buy a fat pig

When children's rhymes are all but near extinct

Today our grocery stores are chuck fill

© gillena cox 2025

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Challenge: to write

A Chaucerian Roundel: 13 lines — 3 stanzas divided into 3 lines (tercet);  4 lines (quatrain);   6 lines (sestet),

usually 10 syllables per line as iambic pentameter; rhyme scheme: A B1 B2/a b A B1/a b b A B1 B2. 

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20171113
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1336

[crop of a AI generated Image]

 Need of Lighting

It's as if the stars feel,

There is no need of lighting,

They have below, their neons,

They have their red light spaces,

I used to look up in a sky,

Full of nighf stars, some twinkling 

But now not so.

The sky turns coal black 

I wait for a lucky dawn,

When i can see a twinkling,

When i can even count them.

Tsk tsk!

It's as if the stars feel,

There is no more,

Need of lighting.

© gillena cox 2025

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1335

  [image from google]

 November Letters

Was it yesterday? No, not yesterday. I learned to know the love of bare November days, before the coming of the snow, from letters.

Letters written in beautiful cursive hand, telling bleak tales, written when long nights, stretched to insomnia.

Insomnia, was never the writer's pleasure, rather instead, the stretch of words penned across oceans in relative conversation, with the art of anticipation to receive reciprocal replies, these were her November guests.

Those answers which warm the heart, like hot chocolate in which tiny mashmallows surf, on nights chilly like blizzard winds.

© gillena cox 2025

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NOTE: Todays poem is a proseey including lines given from 'My November Guest' by Robert Frost

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1334

 [image from google]

 Hands Engaged Love Language - A Choka

Coconut grated

On a tin grater, grated

Now water added

Coconut milk then squeezed 

Through fine cotton cloth

Sugar stirred into the milk

Boil, until thickened

Maybe chocolate added or

Or maybe ginger

Thicken enough to scoop out

 To a flat surface

 A large plate will surffice

Cut  squares evenly

For children cherished, this sweet

© gillena cox 2025

NOTE: Todays poem is a choka version, of the poem  i wrote, in response to yesterday's crafting prompt

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REVISIT TO READ

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1333

[image from google]

 Hands Emgaged Love Language

Coconut grated on a tin grater

Enough water added

Coconut milk squeezed 

Through fine cotton cloth

Sugar stirred into coconut milk

Boiled, until thickened and pastey

Maybe chocolate could be added

Or maybe ginger

Beat beat beat thicken some more

Thick enough to scoop out 

Onto a flat surface

Perhaps a large plate

Cut into squares when cool enough

A snack, a delight for children cherished

© gillena cox 2025

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20151104

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1332

[image courtesy dVerse Poetry Pub]

 Quadrille - Whirl

What a whirl of weird goings ons,

Badjohn talk,  terrorize the Caribbean,

And, as if that is not enough,

A whirligig of a hurricane with hit no miss

Words, words, watch your words

US, Venezuela, China, Russia

Let peace instead  whirl

Peace! whirl peace.

© gillena cox 2025

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REVISIT TO READ

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1331

[image from google]

So Be It

 How is it that a fruit will ripen hence 

With birds drawn to its presence with whistles

From afar and from near not for a pence

But in a form of mood that is skittles 

They know when and where to get there vititles

Thus freely taken as freely given. 

No worries these favoured feathered even

If day should be long or short appearing

Ah but we to fuss and panic is then

Made to show aging lines quick in coming 

© gillena cox 2025

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REVISIT TO READ

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20191030>

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1330

[AI generated, i used Bibg]

 Its alive, it moved

She poked the sand with a stick

Something like eyes stared

Lot of eyes, looking angry

She shivered, jumped back

In sheer surprise of this thing

Scowling in the sand

Had she known she would have left

Right there and then, but

Curiosity held her

Like butter on bread

Halloween night, time of fright

Fantasy holds fast

Imagination rambles

Blue crabs in dim light

Scuttled away in the night

© gillena cox 2025

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“It’s alive!” – Victor Frankenstein, Frankenstein (1931)

REVISIT TO READ

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20211028

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1329

[image composed with a little help from picsart]

My Haloween Haibun( end with 3 haiku)

I aim to write a Haloween story. It must be gruesome and chilling. Nevermore nevermore call me chicken. This is not a travelogue.  This is not a resurrection issue. This writer is evolving. So set your mind to do some reading, some thrilling, chilling reading.

he eats his bride

green monster Frankenstien -

stroke of midnight

headless horseman

to buy a swifter steed -

sells his head

wrapped in linens -

awaked he calls his dad

mummy dearest

© gillena cox 2025

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REVISIT TO READ

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1328

[image from the internet]

Ihis is what i hope to read at Saturday's live online

Sketching Salvation

REVISIT TO READ SKETCHING SALVATION. HERE

NOW LISTEN

© gillena cox 2025

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1327

 Play Mas

masqueraders fill the street 

the road is all yours 

that time of sunny year when

Whine and jab cohorts 

beads and buntings quivering 

bodies dancing free 

music is appropriate  

carnival time oui!

© gillena cox 2025

NOTE

'Play Mas' is my micro season as well as the poem title. I wrote 'Play Mas' using the Choka form, but starting with a 7 syllable line

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[image courtesy dVerse Poetry Pub]

With night comes 

The flicker of tiny flames

There used to be before

Climate change

And present day rules

Hand held spatklers

Sparkle continues 

Irregardless

In joy of family

Reunion

Food music chatter 

Who needs sparklers then

When the sparklers become

Themselves 

Divali night

© gillena cox 2025

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[image courtesy dVerse Poetry Pub]

 At Near Mudnight - A Fold

Riding at super speed, at near midnight,

Tree silhouettes stayed their stance,

I saw a moon oh so bright,

I wanted to just have it for myself,

You should hear my gallop at near midnight,

Of what, i have no idea,

My trusty steed took a fright, 

There before us, the grim reaper grinned,

Said i at this time of night,

Get thee hence! still, he did swipe,

Off rolled my poor head, at near midnight.

© gillena cox 2025

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to write a poem about some version of the headless horseman.

REVISIT TO READ

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1324

[imave courtesy dVerse Poetry Pub]

not even your colours can cheer me.

they invite me to your exhibition

but what will I do there.

without my hands upon

your summer face, i am a ship  

lost in tempest winds

© gillena cox 2025

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 We had to use these lines:What will I do there
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your summer face?”In response to today''s prompt - i wrote A  cherita

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1323

Memory is the happiness of being alone. ― Lois Lowry, Anastasia Krupnick

[image from google]

I Do Miss - Fold

The smell of freshly baked bread,

Still haunts me in a pleasant way,

And the comic books i read,

And swapped, those were fun,

I miss, smell of freshly baked bread

I think the most, from my growing up,

All these reveries carried in my head 

They keep me busy enough

I luv my aloneness but instead

Sometimes folks question my aloneness

Yes i do miss, smell of freshly baked bread

© gillena cox 2025

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REVISIT TO READ

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20181007
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1322

THIS HAPPENED TODAY 

in Cocorite and WestMoorings. Trinidad

[image from google]

MAKING MYTHS [8] LET GO

Anxious. For night, 

Angry is its might

October demons capture Wind

Twisting her so

She pull away

And in so doing

Oops! roofs are ripped away

Let go you demons

Let go of Wind

That she may finds butterflies

To scallop and sway

Oh but jealous of

Tonight's supermoon

The October demons

Make faces at the sun

Torturing Wind to daytime havock

© gillena cox 2025

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REVISIT TO READ

MAKING MYTHS [7]

20211007
20161007(1)
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1321

[image courtesy dVerse Poetry Pub]

Quadrille - Boo

 What a bootiful day,

The October moon must say,

She's larger than life,

And booting hidden stars of strife.

Since she's so big and bootiful,

There are books a plentiful,

To read as bedtime boosters,

So sleeptime will not be at all boorish.

© gillena cox 2025

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REVISIT TO READ

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1320

[AI generated using Bing]

Goddess - A Fold

I am goddess; if you agree,

How would your adoration then

Befit that i-creature in me?

Would you send supplication?

To this goddess, if you agree.

Heaven is her abode and destination.

Do you understand what you see?

Power and mercy are her instructions,

But only, if you realize the i in me,

Ponder this! smile but never smirk,

At this goddess she, if you agree.

© gillena cox 2025

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REVISIT TO READ

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1319

[this photo first posted HERE]

The ocean's song

In island crossings, we dare to listen

To the ripples of the vast ocean,

To the engine's roar across its surface,

To the rocks we engrave with our stares in passing.

Nothing from the distant mountains

Can tell us, not to journey bright;

But from the splash of a baby turtle,

Will the pattern of watery entertainment sing.

Our lifejackets securely donned,

We stare into the vastness of 

An ocean, a picture, a song of trust,

Ah! the wind will silently caress our cheek,

If we open windows to the view of her songs.

From jettied shore to rocky shore,

The songs of adventure in careful prattle,

Fill the pirogue of curious care,

From here we left by watery way,

Now we safely get there.

© gillena cox 2025

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REVISIT TO READ

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20200930
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1318

Response

A warm Caribbean morning progresses, with clear sky and pigeons in flock, out in the street. Here we have no Season of Autumn. Clouds are forming and patterning in creative shapes, left to the mind of onlookers to interpret. There will always be the storybook mind delighting with their imaginings. The rain drizzles and ceases. No one hears the breeze; still, a plumeria responds.

on the grey paved walk

a white flower has fallen -

its center yellow  

© gillena cox 2025

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REVISIT TO READ

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1317

[AI generated image]

 A Play of Lights - Rengay between Gillena Cox & David (ben Alexander) Bogomolny 

with my eyes i trace 

a pattern of stars at dawn -

praise for a new day/gc

tears blur one small boy’s efforts

to outline big sheriff’s badge/db

a yellow alert -

the way colours shape our

weather and warnings/gc

night rains streak the glass -

she runs the red turns too quick

on slick, empty road/db

office noises left behind

returning to home alone/gc

an owl keeps steady

while headlights veer and scatter 

through the storm-soaked dark/db

Collaboration Note: The Rengay is a short form created by Gary Gay

 'A Play of Lights' is a Rengay between Gillena Cox - St James, Trinidad & David (ben Alexander) Bogomolny  - Jerusalem, Israel.

Start date: September 15th 2025

End  date: September 17th 2025

Written: via email

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REVISIT TO READ

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20170925
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1316

[image - AI generated]

 The art of happiness - a quadtille

Feeling the need of some happiness?

Maybe because you are sad,

Or people in your space are sad.

Do something nice for someone!

Smile with someone!

Listen to Soca music!

Dance as you listen !

Say a prayer for world peace.

'Happiness matters',  speak it!

© gillena cox 2025

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REVISIT TO READ

20220923
20160923
20210923

1315

 Posey

Yellow ixoras you stay open,

Once bloomed, through day

And through night;

Sleepless under Caribbean skies,

In your sweet umbrella forms,

Put you in a posey,

What would you represent?

Loveliness, continuity, happiness,

hopeful, joy, alluring

Ay yes, 

I know, you would be enduring. 

© gillena cox 2025

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