Word From The Sage
Ah, but the Starpainters are taking over now, you have nothing to worry about, said the wise old sage to the group huddled together in the dark cave, for months now.
He knew by instinct, and innate sage wisdom, the time to venture out had come. It was time to face the night sky, to smile with the moon, to slumber, be refreshed, rise and enter a new day
© gillena cox 2026
Life Lessons
Seconds, minutes, hours,
They dance their choreography,
Now you try it,
And; one, two, three,
Plié, relevé, plié.
Some of us capsize
At the last plié,
Some of us never rose
At the relevé,
Life is like that,
A strict harsh teacher,
Never stopping to cuddle,
Ever shouting the instructions,
To rise, drop, rise again.
At the relevé,
You should breathe,
That's you cuddling you,
Or you'll stay capsized,
On the floor.
The rhythm is:
One, two, three,
Plié, relevé, plié,
Gracefully, now.
gillena cox 2026
Xenolith
Xenolith
Where art thou, without a wit
Xenolith
Xenolith
I thought i heard a bird, a twit
Xenolith
Xenolith
Come now say you'd sit with it
Xenolith
Xenolith
A rock a sediment to wit
Oh Xenolith
Truly you are it ,
You are it.
gillena cox 2026
Buenos dias,
When did night creep in
Like a stallion's gallop,
Hope can swim too,
Even if butterflies are end product,
Run run skip hop jump,
The reason romance fails is,
The heart always never wins,
Where goes greed?
Tomorrow,
To another man's party.
© gillena cox 2026
Stone soup,
Ever the lie of travellers,
Hungry on the wellbeaten paths
The nerve of pages to hold solid
Ever existing, read and reread
Cooked in community
The commas between puns and similies
The question marks at the end
Of each ingredient lesson
The innate message carried
Cradeled as lullabyes
In the early evening;[
Stone soup,
Who can eat that.
Only the sharp minded
Spinning myths to a community of strangers
Hungry for the generousity of a blessing
Maybe stone soup can be shared to understanding
Maybe stone soup can be eaten to satisfaction
© gillena cox 2026
Here Comes The Bride
Time was when i sang in the senior choir at my church. The choir is still in existence, only i do not sing anymore.
In those days we had choir practise, at the old church weeknights. And on a Sunday morning we sang at Holy Mass.That was before Covid19.
We sang too, at funerals and at weddings. In those days, i loved weddings. Now too, i still love weddings.
happy bride and groom
yet some people sniffling -
weddings make me cry
© gillena cox 2026
Dense intense vibrant reds
Hold the garden inbreds
Very much like the crowd
At a football match loud
Enough to be seen yet and
Bold as the fervor of passion
Sharing the frenzy of the match
Less rowdy always sedately watch
© gillena cox 2026
He of the talent of words,
His is the greatest protest,
Please, give us your fervor
Of the fondest amor - love,
The steepest mountain climb,
The coldest winter morn,
In agreement of seasons
But no, it is never so,
So clever is he, protesting.
© gillena cox 2026
Daylong
wishing it was still yesterday
i closed tightly shut my today
in daydream
at times the dawn is late coming
with herald birds sweetly singing
it's daylight
wings flapping in pairs and in threes
flocks fly high above the tall trees
look! daymoon
lingering still amidst the clouds
sentient being yield to clouds
at daybreak
gratitude is all that we need
nourish our thoughts for this seed
through daylong.
© gillena cox 2026
Just Once
Raining - A Fold
It's raining it's raining i close the window
Well, because only that one was opened
Sweet and low
My eyes snapped a blossom
But before i close the window
I look up at the sky
There above not below
Crying its heartfelt rain
In the rainy season's sun glow
Steelpan music all day long
Irregardless it's raining, i close the window
Jumping In
To jump or rather not to jump,
I fancy my thoughts would
Contemplate, before words
Enter a blank page
Having had the mentorship of
The words, the punctuations
Then would bravely follow.
Comma is the contemplating sage
The jumps is an adventure after all
No Nada
Even if i'm sad
I will not cry
Enough is enough
My station is empty
Should morning evade birdsongs
I will not scowl
Nor shush the daymoon away
When it rains
I will not join in
With my lonely memories
Caring for yesteryears
Is it not the nature of life
To spin changes through
Ever occuring joy and sorrow
No i will not make a fuss
© gillena cox 2026
Retreat Salybia
Those day, singing in the senior choir we would during tbe Lenten Season, put aside a day, to go somewhere out of the city, somewhere remote, somewhere we wouldn't dare travel to everyday.
So there we are in the mini bus, some call them maxi taxis. We always prayed the rosary on the way. On our retreat day to Salybia, we leave St James around 6:00AM.
We pass through forested areas to get there.At the retreat site there is the sea in the background.
sandals in hand
we walk along the beach sand -
Lenten retreat
© gillena cox 2026
Treasure
“We salute you Gentle Rousseau you can hear us,
Through the noise of modern day styles,
Set to canvas enduring,
We meditate beside your palette of colours and textures,
Bearing in mind,
That greatness is recognised in your passing,
Leaving behind for us treasure
© gillena cox 2026
© gillena cox 2026
Althought shines the moon so bright
And night its questions held so tight
What matters most to each born star
Is how the gazers seem so near
When from its shimmer oceans speak
In dark stages to applause
How goes the muster of this mood
So somber and resilient
Two hearts in synchronicity
Watch for the favour of night
The twinkle of stars, beats of hearts
And naturally glowing sparks
© gillena cox 2026
Without Fantasies,
These i have loved:
The quiet dark anticipating dawn,
Unfolding in layers of whistles and songs of sky birds,
Dare of the tropical mockingbird that skips across my wall,
The shadows of banana leaves in upcoming light,
Without the fantasies,
They are just banana fronds dancing with the wind,
Radiant raindrops couching in cool flowers;
And flowers themselves, that sway through sunny hours,
Dreaming of moths that drink them under the moon
The stark white of plumerias against this background of clearing new day,
The coolness envelops my backyard,
Where a chair lay tumbled,
Maybe from a sprinting cat or maybe a strong gust,
Ah! day breaks:
The cloud palette is yellow, misty yellow.
All these have been my loves.
© gillena cox 2026
Note: The bold lines are from the second stanza of ‘The Great Lover’ by Rupert Brooke
© gillena cox 2026
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
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)
