Get out of bed

Day Ten…..

Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem of simultaneity – in which multiple things are happening at once…….

life goes on 2

She sobbed and sobbed, but no one heard,
choked up, and lost for words!
Her face pressed on the windowpane
her mind raced…would she be the same?
A bird sang in mellow tones,
the house creaked, and the trees groaned!
The postman made his daily rounds,
the cat purred in gentle sounds.
Wafts of lavender filled the breeze,
the wind mumbled, as it pleased.
Sun bounced from a mosaic jar,
messages of love flew from afar.
Particles danced, in iridescent light,
rumbling sounds roused her appetite!
The gardener cut the overgrown hedge.
On darkened sill, feelings edged.
From a distance, dogs were howling
and muffled sounds of children shouting.

Clouds hid the sun, and she exhaled,
a forlorn whimper still prevailed!
Remembrance was everywhere,
keepsakes of her despair.

Then she recalled what the “never minds” said
“life goes on….get out of bed!”

poetry month


Light needs shadows to contrast its form

“When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.”
― Kahlil GibranThe Prophet


Though shrouded in sadness,
hope is in sight.
In the midst
of oblivion,
we get caught in light!

The shadows may threaten
to darken your days.
Be still
your heart
and lift up your praise!

The path may take you,
to places
you fear,
enable the silence
of celestial spheres.

The miracle of beauty
brings colour to a rose
and living water,
ushers grace
where it flows!

Deep speaks to deep,
when transformed by light
and beneath the umbra,
each word
will rewrite!

Light needs shadows
to contrast its form,
without sorrow,
we cannot

Within a cocoon the worm
knows the long night,
till breathtaking beauty
bring forth
great delight!


lemonade sparkles

“The soil under the grass is dreaming of a young forest, and under the pavement the soil is dreaming of grass.”
― Wendell BerryGiven


lemonade sparkles
in my nebulous dreams,
flaxen daffodils
with glistening beams

viridescent trees
the cerulean skies,
while crimson poppies
with opaque butterflies

the mahogany earth
with bronze overtones,
a heaven inscribed
around silvery zones

at night the pearl moon
with a stygian night,
and the golden sun
reflects iridescent delight

the rubescent dawn
exhibits fields
of verdant clover,
a spiral of black birds
in psychedelic

far down by the caramel shore,
turquoise waters splash
their encore

deep under the hues
of a sapphire ocean
pink lobsters
the aquamarine motion

i am awoken by a
lilac slumber,
on clouds of wild flowers
imbued with
Earth’s umber


just when i think

Words mean more than what is set down on paper. It takes the human voice to infuse them with shades of deeper meaning.”
― Maya AngelouI Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

a word

just when i think
that the words are all said,
colours leak out
of me,
onto my bed

indigo, lavender and a reddish brown,
they won’t let me sleep
till i’ve scribbled them down

in the small hours
of an inconspicuous night,
relentless imaginings
compel me to write

messages overflow and swirl through the air,
surround me, inspire me
with their brazen flair

i try not to rhyme
but the words won’t comply,
they bombard me
with verses
in oversupply


Holy Ground

“You have traveled too fast over false ground;
Now your soul has come to take you back.”
― John O’DonohueAnam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom

holy ground

way past the asteroids
in realms where dreams explore,
creativity takes me,
out to holy shores

entwined in the magnificence
of a celestial glow,
in cosmic revelations
i participate in the show

when my timid voice falters
in caliginous space,
radiant light will lead me
back to love’s embrace

the wildness of this reverie
has a magical form,
in beauty and in holiness
way beyond the norm

so even when shadows
threaten to terrify,
darkness grows familiar,
my soul is glorified

The Eye of the Storm

Masses of birds can fly for miles within the eye of a hurricane, surrounded on all sides by powerful wind and thunderstorms, yet sheltered from them within the middle of the storm.
Flocks of birds showed up in radar images of Hurricane Irma’s eye, as the birds moved with the storm up the west coast of Florida.
the eye of the storm

the eye of the storm
is where i fly
on winged grace
in the azure sky

all around me
are chaotic streams
trying to pull me
to anxious extremes

safe and secure
in the arms of light
my innermost fight

guided by
a benevolent force
braced with love
to stay the course

relocated to
fragrant fields
faith and mercy
my eternal shield



“When we resist change, it’s called suffering. But when we can completely let go and not struggle against it, when we can embrace the groundlessness of our situation and relax into it’s dynamic quality, that’s called enlightenment”
― Pema Chödrön,


i left the earth
to see the sun
and moon
from a different view

i was groundless
and defeated
and my apprehension

the stars were out
my breath was mute
and time
became inert

i sanctioned
bitter wounds to heal,
that words
would cease to hurt

i blurted out
the damage
that had been
done to my soul

the catharsis
of immersed pain,
flung out
of control

in the
i’d created,
i understood my part

and in this timeless Universe, i cranked open my heart

it was a moment
when fear disrobed
and was exposed
to the light

of awareness
and i knew
i’d be alright