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FRAGRANT CONVERSATIONS
This poem is a flower -
Flirtatious as the skirts of dancers,
Furling in the Bele rituals;
Hedged near my front gate,
Crepe Jasmines, milk white;

This poem is a bud opened -
Perky yellow dabs, as sharp
As pin pricks, dotting her centers,
To sunlight, and nightfall
When she sounds the loudest,
Fragrant conversations with breezes;

This poem is a miracle -
Who designs the awe of blossoming,
Knowing when smiles should delight
Faces, with wonder and gratefulness,
Sadness with light and thankfulness;

This poem is a flower
This poem is a bud opened
This poem is a miracle.
FRAGRANT CONVERSATIONS © gillena cox 2016

[bele dancer from google dot com]

Written for
Prompt Nights – Nothing is more memorable than Scent – [14]

101

image from google dot com


ACCEPTANCE
This poem is an ugly duckling;
innocent, fluffy,
waddling in the wrong line up,
only to be shunned

Left alone, another lineup comes into view,
of waddling chicks just as soft and fluffy

This poem is a swan;
finding a place unknown, unheard of,
or a place embracing, calling, just needing an answer;
another line up, a leap of faith,
just a flap of little wings, and a waddle, closer to look

fall in line, a sense of well being ensues,
a natural line up, of similar, yet different waddling

This poem is ergo
inquiry, existence, nature, nudges,
dynamism, moving forward, not knowing why,
without an answer for every question asked,
seeking, journeying living breathing;
mystery and faith.
© gillena cox 2015



Written in response to the prompt today
Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Acceptance

Monday WRites 22

image from google dot com


You've heard about the Monday Blues ❧✿❧ well this is Monday WRites ( musing on the definition here of rite, as any customary observance or practice eg the rite of afternoon tea ).
Welcome to Monday WRites #22, ❧✿❧ whats your mood today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites



CANTALOUPE
This poem is a cantaloupe
Almost the colour of pumpkin, yet not quite
This poem has a skin rough like stony paths
Only not quite so gravelly
There are sunlight patterns on the wall, on the floor
On the tongue, a taste of delight after morning prayer

Still the news carry stories of heinous crimes
Switch on, switch off, the issues remain
People unkind to one another, greed, hatred, wars

This poem seeks a knife,
To peel off the rough skin, to scoop out the seeds
To slice the juicy, fragrant, delicious flesh
Place it in a bowl, then shout to the world
Come! partake of this! there is enough for everyone
Taste it! this poem, is, a cantaloupe.
© gillena cox 2015





GRAB MY BUTTON
<br /> <a href="http://myblog-verses.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0C9WPzL5kFEY1gEitLn4bC5inZjfq2beowWitvrD3zLruIRMxxj1RyrHw6Xcd6SlmEASrTd6rLFn4mfF8D8XC5Mz4ASE8iblAAmc3uaKNuHtYgvzIWajyH64D6kzlwugaU8wP610yKLRq/s320/button2Monday+WRites.jpg" alt="verses" /></a><br />

Will Link this to Tuesday Platform