The Poets Symphony – Raw Earth Ink

When poet’s write a symphony
Notes and words find destiny
In lyrical poems, verses and melodies
Emotional word music journeys


Any other year
I’d invite to a soirée

Gather all my friends
Celebrate until the night ends

Honoring the drive to create
Sharing the dream to exhilarate

Entertain by dancing a silly caper
Show happiness – that my words are printed on paper


Since this is anything but a normal year, I raise my glass to you all, wishing your dreams come true!

I’m so happy and proud to reveal

Three poems by me in 

The Poets Symphony

“A really good poem is full of music.”
Eric Whitacre, American Composer and Conductor

Tune in to just a few lines from a song and one can easily be pulled back into a single moment in time, memories rising unbidden. New moments to be discovered, music weaves through our lives tying them all together.

Lovingly composed by thirty-one artists and writers from around the world, The Poets Symphony delivers the seduction of music in the form of poetry, lyrics, rhyme, digital art, photography and more.

From inspiration to nostalgic memory, love affairs to the musician himself, place the needle on the record and allow the music of life to flow through your soul.

You can find the paperback at lulu (recommended)Barnes & Noble, or Amazon. (Lulu has been shipping out books in about a week (or less) while Amazon is taking over a month to ship out book orders.)

You can also read it on your Kindle.

Featured post

Werewolf Dreams – A Sonnet


The full moon rises clear and night-day bright
Distracting him from wife and child
Shining beacon to the shapeshifter’s sight
A clarion call to break free and run wild

Follow the call of the silvery moon
Run swiftly through the woods on soft paws
Howl and sing loudly to her dancing tune
Hold warm blood and hard bones in his jaws

Feel the cool night wind caressing his back
Drink his fill in the sweet burbling stream
Tumble and play with his werewolf pack
Freedom a chained human can’t even dream

Such is the power when you feel other
Accept yourself, says our wise witch mother


This poem is dedicated to my oldest child. Who asked me today as I took pictures of the moon if I ever wrote about the moon and werewolves. I told him I’ve written plenty about the full moon and some pieces about wolves. But so far nothing about werewolves.

Mind still on yesterday’s turning prompt. I ended up with another Sonnet.

Shared to earthweal open link weekend #58.


Longing Dream – A Sonnet

Photo by Engin Akyurt from Pexels

Eyes meet for the first time, not behind screen
The busy central station fades away
Butterflies like an ingenue of eighteen
Your smile and look a hint of foreplay

Hands touch for the first time, skin on skin
Light dawns, hope rise, connection is real
Nervous faces melts into happy grins
Maybe there’s another who share how I feel

Lips meet for the first time, tender kisses
Breath catches, heart races, love and care flow
Each knowing what the other most misses
What’s needed for that radiant glow

The alarm clock abruptly rips the dream
A longing lonely soul sorrow screams


Written for MTB: Middles & Turns at dVerse.

I’ve written a few Sonnets before, Fall Maiden and Carrot.

But this is the first time I managed to incorporate a real volta, or turn in the last couplet.

Photo by Akshar Dave from Pexels

Bad day (2019 Re-post)

© RedCat

Bad day
You know it by the thousand mile stare
The one I get caught in when not actively concentration on anything
Alone, looking at the world through glass
Days that quantum physics assert the worlds just an illusion
Nothing really reaches me
Yet, I feel perpetual sorrow
Aching loneliness

Bad night
You know it by the introvert behavior
The one I show when feeling unsafe, unconnected, unloved
Seemingly at ease, but constant vigilant
Nights when the dark is comforting and hiding creeping menace
Nothing really catches my attention
Diversions only a source of stress
I walk to and fro without aim or results

© RedCat

Re-post comment:
Plagued by the black dog of depression. I nearly convinced myself to skip Wandering the Archives Wednesday.
Until I realized that’s how it always goes. I tell myself really unkind things. And go further into darkness.

So here’s a poem about just how bad such days are.

If you’re suffering. Know you’re not alone. That there is no shame!

Everyone is worthy of LOVE!!! ❤️

Black Dog of Depression

What a Whirlwind Romance

“I am thy fool in the morning, thou art my slave in the night.”

– Paul Dunbar, The Paradox

Every morning I purr and prance
Pets and scratches our romance
Each day my presence let you know
Together our life paths go

One of us a sensual dancer
The other a hopeless romancer
Together we’re an odd pair
One in fur, one in underwear

As night falls on the land
We’re both waiting for that caressing hand
Closeness is what we both crave
I’m so delighted you choose to be my slave

Your radiant beauty enchants
My sensuous touch leads to trance
What a whirlwind romance


Written for Poetics: Beyond Meaning or The Resolution of Opposites over at dVerse.
And inspired by the photo prompt at The Sunday Muse.

I Wanna Go – A Quadrille

Photo by Evgeny Tchebotarev from Pexels

I wanna go over the rainbow
Fly the heavens where soul stars glow
Visit fairy where dreams grow

I wanna dance the mambo
Sparkle and shimmer in disco
Twirl and spin in tango

I wanna go where music flow
Where happy faces shine aglow


Today it’s Quadrille Monday over at dVerse. In which we write poems of precisely 44 words, including one word we’re provided. Today’s word is GO

For some time all my mind could come up with “Wake me up before you go-go”.
Then “I want to go home”. I have a head full of lyrics from a life singing. After playing both songs I tried to share my (and everyone else) longing for life to yet again contain those things we did so easily before the pandemic. 

I have truly fallen for this dVerse creation. I find myself writing Quadrilles any odd time.
Read some of them here.

Wake me up before you go-go – Wham
I want to go home – Jonny Cash

Flower, Dance, Love

Be an uncrushed flower.

Be an uncrushed flower
Radiating true passions colourful power
Let love, truth and trust fear and doubt devour
Invoke creativity’s cleaning shower

An inner star shining through entrance
Nature’s cycles intuition enhance
Burst into constellations of dance
Follow the music to a state of trance

Love can be a monster, or not
Learn to love yourself first, whatever you’ve been taught
Relearn where validation is sought
Forgive all the unkind self degrading thoughts

Dance with joy like there’s no tomorrow
Flourish like a flower not knowing sorrow
Love freely all colours of the rainbow
Live compassionately in the firebrand’s glow 


Burst into constellations of dance.

Written for Weekly Scribblings #57: Let Us Write (together).

A big Thank you to Magaly Guerrero or sharing and allowing us to use her blackout poems. 

Love can be a monster, or not.

She-wolf (2020 Re-post)

Recently I had reason to go through a lot of last year’s writing. Some pieces made me happy, others sad. I saw clear themes to my writing. And how month by month I learn and grow in the craft.

Since giving myself credit for my accomplishments are one of those things I struggled with. I decided to set myself the task to each week dive into the archives and re-blog a poem from last year.

So welcome to Wandering the Archives Wednesday.

This poem I wrote during the big fires in Australia last January. Truth be told. I don’t think even the pandemic have changed our behaviour vis-á-vis Nature.

She arrives in dreams
The white she-wolf
Nipping and yipping
Around the Soul
Until it’s fully awake
Conscious of the surrounding Wildwood

One eye shines with sky-wisdom
The other, by now ferocious ruby red
Colour of mega-fires
Shade of blood for all the fallen animal-kin

Her howl echoes
A billion souls burnt

Call that reverberate to the bone
Dream-sound break the hush
Stir archetypes awake

Nature are poisoned
Out of balance
A continent burning

The wild howl will break sleep
Until the fallen are remembered


Written for Sunday Muse #90 and Sunday’s Whirligig 248 and earthweal open link weekend #2.
Also posted to Writers’ Pantry #2: Storms and Stones and Warmth.

THIS WEEK’S WHIRLIGIG WORDS come from “To the New Year” by W.S. Merwin: touch, sound, dove, tips, know, hopes, calls, age, hush, hears, stir, possible.

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