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     [image Frederick Carl Frieseke (American, 1874 – 1939), The Bird Cage courtesy dVerse Poets Pub]

A Bird In A Cage

That song, that mesmerising song. Some things are just not good for an unsober head, carrying a mind of non direction, crazed in booze, and too bold women, and the faint perfume.

From its chalice steals, the sacred blend of dignity, divinity, deep serious contemplation and remorse, by morning glare. When did it occur to them to look for him, to ask about him.

Weren't they drinking buddies? Weren't buddies supposed to look after one another? It is a sad day went a friend goes missing, like a phantom,  out of the night. When a friend's wife is left alone; to listen to the song of a bird in a cage.  

© gillena cox

Blog Hopping Today With

  

 Prosery - Paul Laurence Dunbar 

Write a prose, using a line given from Dunbar's poem - Sympathy; the same poem credited for Maya Angelo' s poem title "I know why the cage bird sings"

REVIST
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[image courtesy dVerse poetry pub]

Fires ablaze, the winds rough enough to spread mayhem and catastrophe. People left homeless. Such is the mood of January in LA as a world watches and weeps at the plight of one another

Power shifts and power sits. With its quota of conspiracy theories on an important and significant day of memories

One significant question is posed: “where can we find light in this never-ending shade?”

In Trinidad and Tobago the  vibe is hot and busy.  Preparing for the street event of Carnival where a State of Emergency lurks in the shadows overseeing crime and criminal elements detrimental to life and peace. This truly is a world of chiaroscuro. © gillena cox 2025

BLOG HOPPING TODAY WITH 

Prosery: Finding the Light 

“where can we find light in this never-ending shade?”–From Amanda Gorman, “The Hill We Climb” is to be used in our prose or flash fiction write today

REVISIT TO READ

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[a jouvert band 2024 here in St James🇹🇹]

It is hot and bright after the jouvert mud mas, there is wild abandonment in the streets. This will shock only first-time observers.

This is sun season, dry season carnival season. This is February, with Valentine's Day easing in with roses and hopefully no thorns.

Soon The Wet Season to follow. But when the city lilacs release their sweet, wild perfume then bow down, heavy with rain; the yellow poui on the mountains will light up any overcast day.

gillenacox2024

[yellow poui on the mountain]

NOTE: 

Jouvert is the opening of the 2day adult masquerade through the streets. It is usually quite a dirty event. Traditionally the revellers are covered  or splashed in mud. It all starts as early as 3: 00AM.

Poui a flowering tree

BLOG HOPPING TODAY WITH

Prosery: City Lilacs 

ASKED TO USE THE LINES‘

…city lilacs release their sweet, wild perfume then bow down, heavy with rain.’ 

in a prose writing not more than 133 words

AND

Mosaic Monday#70

REVISIT TO READ

Monday WRites 429

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THIS IS MONDAY WRITES 430

HAPPY FEBRUARY TO ALL

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an image from Pinterest

 The Magic of My First Snow

Where was i? I was at my sister's home. I had flown across oceans so at that time,  I was on vacation in New York. So back then, I was where i am.

When the snow began, she called me to the door. The door was slightly ajar. And there it was. My very first time, my very first snowflakes

For me this was oh so amazing. I stood at the doorway spellbound.

© gillenacox 2023

BLOG HOPPING TODAY WITH

Prosery: Winter is coming

Prompt 

Today we are writing prose using the lines

“I was where I am

When the snow began”

From “The Dead of Winter” by Samuel Menashe

REVISIT TO READ

Monday WRites 422
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ENJOY THE MUSIC 

Our 2023 Season of 100 Days of Christmas

 hosted by our Radio Station Sweet 100.1 FM is in ongoing.

LISTEN

❧✿❧

 

THIS IS MONDAY WRITES 423

A Happy December to all

You've heard about the Monday Blues 

well this is Monday WRites  (musing on the definition here of rite, as any customary observance for eg the rite of afternoon tea).

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[Image courtesy dVerse Poets Pub]

A Secret Wish 

She; across the seas, had heard about this relative since she was knee high. They said he was a tyrant and a boisterious no good fellow. He valued only his opinions and thought that he alone should  have a voice.

She left him high and dry. Search high search low, he couldn't find her - his wife of  three years. Three years was more than enough time for her to admit she had made a huge mistake. She made good trusted friends, saved some money and found herself somewhere else to live.

Here she was in the big apple for the first time. It was November. And her curiosity proded,  to see this creature everyone wanted to stay away from. One of his wife's friends reluctantly agreed to take her there; but in her mind she was thinking, snow would be the easy way out.

© gillenacox 2023

BLOG HOPPING TODAY WITH

 November for Beginners 

Prompt -Use the lines in a  prose not more than 144 words

‘Snow would be the easy

way out’

 

REVISIT TO READ

Monday WRites 418
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20171106

ENJOY THE MUSIC 

Our 2023 Season of 100 Days of Christmas

 hosted by our Radio Station Sweet 100.1 FM is in ongoing.

LISTEN

❧✿❧

 

THIS IS MONDAY WRITES 419

HELLO! NOVEMBER

You've heard about the Monday Blues 

well this is Monday WRites  (musing on the definition here of rite, as any customary observance for eg the rite of afternoon tea).  

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#digitalart ©gillenacox composed@picsart

 An Inhertitance

Large pumpkins heavy like alien suns lay sprawled in the patch of garden. The old farm house had been neglected for too many moons. This was the perfect time to regain her inheritance. She had roamed the country far and wide here is where she belonged.

Halloween was fast approaching. She opened the creaking door of the wooden barn. This place needs a coat of paint she mused. She checked her carving knives. All that she needed was hère.

Pushing her hands in her pocket she pulled out the last stick of gum, carefully unwrapped it and stuck it in her mouth and began to chew. You cannot pluck moonlight to bring in your pocket, she mused. Mmn this taste like apple.

© gillena cox 2023

ENJOY THE MUSIC 

Our 2023 Season of 100 Days of Christmas hosted by our Radio Station Sweet 100.1 FM is in ongoing.

LISTEN

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BLOG HOPPING TODAY WITH

Prosery: The Voice of Helen Hoyt

THIS IS MONDAY WRITES 415

Happy October

Here in Trinidad and Tobago we are still experiencing a Heat Spell

You've heard about the Monday Blues 

well this is Monday WRites  (musing on the definition here of rite, as any customary observance for eg the rite of afternoon tea).  

 REVISIT TO READ

Monday WRites 414

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She wanted so badly to go mall shopping with her friends, but there was this inherent 'lack of fun' app installed in her mum, so there was no way she could go if her dad was not around to plead on her behalf. 

This was an important event. She had to buy a gift for her boy in Standard Five. He was only two years older than she was and he was such a hunk. All the girls swooned around him, but she had caught his eye.

She had to think of something and fast. Words swarmed like a buzz of bees in her mind. To be pretty for you I have dropped two seeds of turnsole in the dark of both eyes.

She started scribbling and pretty soon there was a poem almost by enchantment on the page. After she read the poem her mum smiled and nodded.

© gillena cox 2023

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REVISIT TO READ

Monday WRites 410
20170911
20150911

BLOG HOPPING TODAY WITH

Prosery: Through the eyes of Isabel Duarte Gray 

Challenge to use the line:“To be pretty for you I have dropped two seeds of turnsole in the dark of both eyes.” from the poem “Garden.” in a prose not more that 144words

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THIS IS MONDAY WRITES 411

A HAPPY SEPTEMBER TO ALL

You've heard about the Monday Blues 

well this is Monday WRites  (musing on the definition here of rite, as any customary observance for eg the rite of afternoon tea). 

 

❧✿❧

NOW FOR THE MONDAY WRITES LINKY

For every Monday in September the Word is REMEMBER Link up with one of your  posts where the word  REMEMBER is present or the theme REMEMBER is presented

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Barque of Frailty by Rishi Dastidar, 

Barque of frailty, full of reformed rakes and bookish hearts

Block of fealty, full of knees doffing and hats bending

Barker of fantasy, full of bodies’ memories and memory’s body

Baroque of felony, full of fire curves and wavering sin

Byzantine of fertility, full of ground awakenings and blue sighs

Burst of fragility, full of hairline universes and breaking beats

Bloom of futility, full of pause buttons and waiting rooms

Brioche of flexibility, full of lifted crusts and spongy beds

Bridle of fashionability, full of revolving time and entropy’s glitter

Bulb of formidability, full of electric light never off since 1901

Blush of facility, full of a click’s ease and railway charm

Burial of fallibility, full of resurrected promises and wave logic

Brick of feasibility, full of home lies and silent explosions

Buyer of falsibility, full of nothing much and everything everything. I found this poem  HERE

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,

dressed in my red tee

and denim shorts; i had to 

snap these lovely nuns

hot bright day the ice cream shop

near the park busy busy

 © gillena cox 2023

BLOG HOPPING TODAY WITH

Prosery:Meditation

Our challenge today is to use “In space in time I sit thousands of feet above the sea”

From May Sarton, “Meditation in Sunlight” in a short prose or flash fiction.

 SEPARATION: A CRUEL LESSON

It all seems like a dream. The years we were together. Breathing into each other's face. We were that close. You see one, you see the other.

When did the chasm create itself. Because neither one of us share a blame for creating it;  it just appeared, like magic. In space in time I sit thousands of feet above the sea; in deep concentration, meditating the chasm.

Some people say: angels appear in our lives to teach us certain lessons and they leave at an appointed time;  which is not the same as dying. But separation can be just as cruel.

© gillena cox 2023

AND

MosaicMonday No. 22 

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This is Monday WRites 386

You've heard about the Monday Blues 

well this is Monday WRites  (musing on the definition here of rite, as any customary observance for eg the rite of afternoon tea). 

❧✿❧

REVISIT

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Those mornings when the rain is hidden in forecast of the night passed; I go outside early to pull up a chair sit in my back yard and watch the daybreak into a splendid today. 

I sit in the coolness of the morning in the tender gray, I swim undisturbed. My thought freely connecting with bird songs; caws, whistles, sounds new and old.

Soaking in the aroma of flowers in the crispness of a new day before the butterflies come out to play.

© gillena cox 2022

REVISIT

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BLOG HOPPING TODAY WITH 

dVerse Prosery — On This Day: Happy December 5 Birthday Poets

Challenge to use the line "In the tender gray, I swim undisturbed" in a piece of prose.

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Monday WRites # 374

 HAPPY DECEMBER 

You've heard about the Monday Blues 

❧✿❧

well this is Monday WRites  (musing on the definition here of rite, as any customary observance for eg the rite of afternoon tea). 

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[image courtesy dVerse poetry]

WHAT MORE

Botanical gardens are a delight. I have visited  Trinidad's, Tobago's,  Grenada's, and Barbados's. I have also been to  The Kew Gardens in London. Too few places for my avid interest. I would say. Gardens are a source of pleasure; a restful roaming for the eyes and all the  other senses.

Were I a travelling person still, at every point of my jaunts I would ask to visit lovely large world renown gardens.

Yet, my garden at home remains humble. A few ixoras, bougainvilleas, caricatures, dinner plates, spider lilies, Caladium (which the rainy season excites), plumerias, pinwheel jasmines, crown of thorns, bachelor buttons,  chinese bamboo, and a lot of green and varieagated green plants.

I should be more brisk at tending my garden since i find flowers so delightful. But i am a lazy retiree. I remember in high school being a part of a rose garden planting project. That one is etched in my memory. What more does my garden need? Hmm in the words of  Katherine Riegel  I’d like, too, to plant the sweet alyssum that smells like honey and peace.

WHAT MORE © gillena cox 2022

 “I’d like, too, to plant the sweet alyssum that smells like honey and peace.” from the poem,

 “What I would like to grow in my Garden.” 

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Welcome to Monday WRites # 362

Wishing all a happy September 

You've heard about the Monday Blues ❧✿❧well this is  Monday WRites  (musing on the definition here of rite, as any customary observance for eg the rite of afternoon tea). 

Copy this code, pin my button to your blog
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BLOG HOPPING TODAY WITHProsery: When it comes to Katherine Riegel

REVISIT

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Seduction

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[image courtesy dVerse poery pub]  

Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings:—–by Oliver Wentdell Holmes Sr., from The Chambered Nautilus

LAZY DAYS AND MONDAYS

A song sings to the heart, from a deep place of lazy being. It gathers strength in its silence, reaching on unseen wings to a clever site of understanding.

 Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings, a song so clear and smart, that a mundane Monday understands the hearts yearning for more than its lazy care.

I get up in the rhythm of serious understanding and reverent obedience. I go to the washing machine. It is time to do the laundry. Two tubs are whirled and swooshed, and hung out to air dry.  Well done to me, lazy retirement days are sooo very embracing.

 © gillena cox 2022

BLOG HOPPING TODAY WITH

dVerse — Prosery Monday — A Voice that Sings

Prompted to: Write a piece of flash fiction or other prose up of up to or exactly 144 words, including the given line from the poem.

REVISIT

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Prosery August 2020
Prosery May 2022.

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 Welcome to Monday WRites # 359

A HAPPY AUGUST to all my visitors and friends

You've heard about the Monday Blues ❧✿❧well this is  Monday WRites  (musing on the definition here of rite, as any customary observance for eg the rite of afternoon tea). 

Copy this code, pin my button to your blog

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[image from google]

SHE MEANT TO KEEP IT

A single red rose, he had not even the  good sense to have it dethorned before delivery. This was his apology?

She had it sliced away leaving a scar deep within her heart. That was a scar she earned for her foolish trust. She meant to keep it.

 © gillena cox 2022

BLOG HOPPING TODAY WITH

Prosery: slices and scars

Challenged to write a prose piece in 144 words, including the line “she’d had it sliced away leaving a scar”

REVISIT
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20160718

 

 Welcome to Monday WRites # 356

July and the rains are still with us here in T&T🇹🇹

You've heard about the Monday Blues ❧✿❧well this is  Monday WRites  (musing on the definition here of rite, as any customary observance for eg the rite of afternoon tea). 

Copy this code, pin my button to your blog
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Hosanna: I used photos from the internet for my mosaic today 

Advent of Easter, the rituals of fasting, abstinence and more consious acts of charity, draw those faithful,  into another season of repentance and renewal.

Here in Trinidad and Tobago, the whether aggravates thirsty throats; is torrid, dry, likely to bush fires and Sahara Dust.

And yet in the mountains, savannahs, parks, the poui burst forth with its incandence of blooming, pinks and yellows, that no one can deny.

Talk what you please of future spring and sun-warm’d sweet tomorrow, here we gaze  struck in awe again and again in poui infloresence.

© gillena cox 2022

Welcome to Monday WRites # 344

You've heard about the Monday Blues ❧✿❧well this is  Monday WRites  (musing on the definition here of rite, as any customary observance for eg the rite of afternoon tea). 

A Blessed Holy Week to all

If you have a Monday post at your blog you can share at the linky. There is no prompt. All that's required is that your post is a Monday post

Copy this code, pin my button to your blog
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A Jigzone puzzle to fit online (6 pieces)

BLOG HOPPING TODAY WITH

Mosaic Monday #173: Cleaning out the left overs

AND

Prosery: When it comes to Christina Georgina Rossetti  

Challenge - to include the line  in prose: Talk what you please of future spring and sun-warm’d sweet tomorrow.” – from the poem A Daughter of Eve by Christina Rossetti.

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REVISIT 

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20150411
poui hallelujah
i hugged a tree

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