Life —
keeps kicking me around,
pushing me down,
handling me pickles on a silver plate,
telling me:
“You’re always too late!”

But I can wait,
‘cuz like rubber
I just bounce back up,
filling this cup
drop by drop
till it’s all filled up.



It’s Quadrille Monday over at dVerse.  (A Quadrille is a poem of 44 words – not including the title.)  De is hosting today and she asked us to use the word bounce.


Connective Tissue



(photo by Sharon Knight @ sunearthsky.com  –  see notes below)

The universe throbs
sending impulses, one cell to the next
through billions and billions of bonds.

From lightning sky to tributaries,
from streaming tributaries to branches,
from xylem-brimmed branches to blood,
from arteried blood to dendrites.

Let’s join hands
and pass love letters in synapses,
till our hearts pulse as one,

from dendrites to blood,
blood to branches,
branches to tributaries,
tributaries to sky,

and let the whole of creation sing!





Mish is the host at dVerse today and she has introduced us to a most amazing artist, Sharon Knight. Today we are to choose ANY photo from Sharon Knight’s blog, Sunearthsky – Meditations from the Midwest.  allow it to take us in any direction and use the inspiration to write.  I chose the beautiful DENDRITES which you can see above.

Thank you, Mish, for the introduction. And, Sharon, thank you for sharing your beautiful photos and your life with us.



winter moon (fuyu no tsuki)

Winter in these parts is cold and dry. The sun may appear for a short journey low across the sky, but offers little in the way of real warmth. As the moon lazily waltzes over the night sky, she chuckles at the bitter landscape. No promise of warmth is offered from this indifferent reflector.

The ground becomes hard, the soil caked. The wild grasses, once emerald tall, crowned with plump seed-heads, turn to yellow-ochre straw and crumble in their brittleness. Many birds migrate to greener lands. But the Hadeda Ibis stays, continuing to probe the ground with its extended bill, looking for cricket larvae, creating dimples over the face of the land.

ibis endeavours
to break unforgiving earth
callous winter moon


summer moon (natsu no tsuki)

Through the sweltering summer days, the land gulps down the sultry showers. Then, in the steaming aftermath, most breathing creatures sit in shaded quiet, straining to catch a whispered breeze. If they move, they move labouriously, almost slo-mo swimming through the air.

The sun is relentless as it beats down, pounding upon heads. Even the shade, while a respite from the harsh light, is pummelled with stifling humidity. Everyone waits for the night, for a brief intermission. And when she comes, the moon, in all her hard coldness, gives her refrain sparingly.

still, the starling pants,
tarries for the first cool breath
the summer moon sighs



It’s Haibun Monday at dVerse and Victoria writes: “Today, I would like to see a brief non-fiction account of your experience related to Fuyu No Tsuki, the winter moon, followed by a Haiku that observes the standards of the form by including reference to a season.”

Unlike 90% of our brethren who dwell in the Northern Hemisphere, we “Southerners” are currently experiencing Summer.  I found it difficult to write a winter moon haibun, perspiration running down my back, sweat collecting over my brow.  I decided to pen a summer moon haibun as well, which feels more real to me.



The blood-stained stone
sits silently
midst shards of glass –
a cold testimony
to death
ripping through a father’s heart,
crushing a mother’s soul.


WHY ricochets off the walls:
WHY       WHY       WHY

Grace watches from above,
perched on ceilings,
dangling limbs from branches,
hovering overhead like a cloud

softly sprinkling drops of dew
which over time
evolve into a torrent of peace.

And in the fullness of time,

Never forget,
but fully forgive.


Paul’s Poetics prompt over at dVerse is “GRACE.”
My reading for today was from Ephesians and I summarised the passage like this:
“Let GRACE be on my tongue and every time I speak let it flow from my mouth and cover those who hear.”
But life has been challenging today.  And it is difficult to be gracious in the face of wrong.
It often takes time for grace through my life — like the working of yeast throughout the dough.




Like a spirited pup
awaiting liberation of the stick,
so this ancient heart
did leap about ungainly.

Frightening to witness the promise breathing,
To hold eternity in trembling hands!

Take me home, for I have seen light and glory.
Silence now this erratic beat.



It is a new year and time for Quadrilles (a poem in 44 words) over at dVerse.  Today Grace has given us the word “leap.”
The text for yesterday’s service was taken from Luke 2 and I am inspired to walk through 2018 with “Simeon” faith.
May this New Year be one of fulfilment and truth.



(with thanks to W S Merwin)

As the night falls
we say
thank you.
We stop,
alighting from parked cars —
we’re drawn out of bright rooms
(dinner still kissing our lips)
gazing at the sky
to say
thank you.

Through the hijack
and the burglary,
after the funeral
and the brain tumour
and countless doctors
in their sterile coats
we say
thank you.

Across miles
we say
thank you.
In alleys and doorways,
in taxis and lifts
we say
thank you.

In the newsnewsnews
of wars
and threats
and dictators
and notorious liars
we say
thank you.

Though the world groans
as the animals die,
as the forests fall,
as the rivers go still,
we say
thank you.

Faster and faster
we say
thank you.
With no one listening
we say
thank you.

Thank you
we say
and wave.
Though in the darkness
we cannot see
yet we hold out our hands
we say
thank you!


This is a “cover” of WS Merwin’s poem “Thanks.
Over at dVerse Bryan is doing a guest prompt and asking us to “cover” a poem by a poet we admire.
It was not easy to “cover” a poem (as singers cover songs).  I had to decide what my “voice” sounds like, what my words “look like” and then interpret the poem through my own life and experience.
It is still too close, I think, to the original to be completely mine.  But it is a good place to start, and it got me thinking and writing.
Try it!

reflect – refract – disperse


Accreditation. Good idea but terrible in practice. These people want a hundred million policies and then more policies on policies. And here I sit, the clock counting the minutes, throwing away the hours, as I rehash the old, reformat docs to pedefs, going possum-eyed and head getting stuffed full of cotton wool. I sit till I can’t sit no more. I type till all the letters trip over each other and I want to chuck the keyboard through the screen. I decide to reward frozen fingers with a cup of hot coffee. Dark mood, darker kitchen, I draw back the curtains. And there it is. Right smack in the front of a bulging charcoal cloud — the fattest most vibrant rainbow I have ever seen. It fills the kitchen with shimmering light, spilling blue on floor and throwing red on the walls. Suddenly my feet have wings and I dance all over the linoleum, arms flapping, a big silly grin slapped across my face. My heart sails into the sky doing loop-de-loops around the electric colours.

Heavy grey canvas
God takes his watercolours
And paints a warm smile





Accreditation is why you won’t see me much around here for a while.  Told a week ago I have four weeks to “get it all together.”  My brain is turning to mush.  My fingers don’t fall on the right keys anymore.  But this morning I got a burst of joy, and it carried me for the rest of the day.

Over at dVerse it was Haibun Monday. (I thought I couldn’t take time to join in). Grace challenged us to “Think about a moment of your typical day (first person singular). This can be your morning routine, commute, day in the office, a walk in the afternoon, household chores, grocery shopping, gardening etc. Here’s the challenge: write and find the “extra” in your ordinary day.”

Well, there you are.  🙂

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