Words dance

I like words.
Love to move in dance.

Move words to dance in love.
I like!

Love to dance.
Move in words I like.

Like in dance.
I love to move words.

Words move love.
I like to dance in.

I like words to love.
Dance in, move.

Words in love dance.
I move to like.

Like I dance.
Words love to move in.

I love words.
To move like in dance.

I in words dance.
To move like love.


Written for today’s prompt at toads ~ Weekend Mini Challenge. We’re asked to read the poem  ‘The Uncertainty of the Poet’. And “study the structure and word patterns, and then write a similar poem, choosing your own words to noodle around with, restricting yourself to those words and trying them out in different combinations in couplets.”

This was really fun and both as easy as it looks at first and deceptively hard.
I played around with a couple of different word combination before finding my stride…


Thanksgiving day

Thanksgiving Prayer

Thanksgiving Day cometh different to us all.
Each according their own season.
Sometimes singing praise feels straight-forward,
sometimes the praise have to be a defiant trust,
that there is a future of hope, even though
it’s shrouded in mist, obscure, unknown.
To let us rest in the Hope of Grace.


Mind swirling, I should finish the poem I started earlier, from text that never got included in the prompts I participated in this week.
(After the rain, Life in words, Onyx darkness, Giant Hogweed, Longing, Ode to a Dancer and Monsters.)
But my mind won’t settle. Instead I contemplate Thanksgiving, run around preparing for this Sunday’s First of Advent – by hanging Advent stars and light around the house – and making lists for the marathon month to come. I’m also mentally preparing to be on stage in four dance-shows this weekend.

Saw a comment the other day about us not having Thanksgiving in Sweden.
I was brought up in the Swedish Protestant (meaning Lutheran) Church. Both because mother wanted it so. And because in the small town I grew up, singing – both as a soloist and in a choir – where done either in municipality or church management. I did both.
And I clearly remember one church holiday focused on thanksgiving.
So I wen’t googling…

Thanksgiving Day occurs on the second Sunday of October (between 8-14 October) for the purpose of giving thanks for the harvest and the bounty’s of the forests and fields. It falls when the seasons change, when there is no more hope of sustenance from farming or foraging until spring. And before Christmas when the last pigs on fattening gets slaughtered.
(On Christmas it’s all about hope, hope for the newborn baby, and hope that a clever farm-wife will stretch the winter stores until spring.)

Yes, I promise to one day explain how I can talk about things from both the Boomer and Silent generation perspective, while being from the last decade of generation X. :-)

Also posted to dVerse ~ OpenLinkNight #255



Waiting, longing for you.
Missing your presence.
Your touch, smell, taste.

Craving the way I feel when you’re close.
The way you make me come alive,
awaken my senses, my creativity.

My body remembers yours.
The total sensual abandon we shared.
Longing that nearly takes the shape of pain.

Waiting, longing for you!


Today’s prompt is Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Longing.
There is many forms of longing, much we humans yearn for.
Freedom, love, fame, food, material possessions, peace of mind, peace in the world…

I decided to share a piece written while waiting for a lover…

Giant hogweed

Wiki Commons

Taller than grown men
silent reminder
of human folly

One look at you
one whiff of scent
declares intent

This land your domain
roots spread foundation
seeds spread your vanguard

To combat your growth
we must don armour
One touch might burn us

Arm ourselves for
axes will fell your
sturdy stems like trunks

Poisonous sap flow
burns skin in sunlight
blisters and blackens

Down but dangerous
still lying in wait
Second growth or seeds

Wait for guerrilla
warfare without end
Generations feud

We teach our children
to heed the danger
to combat your spread

Write history books
declaring lack of
knowledge led us here

Still we change Nature
before learning of
her intricate ways


Written for Kim’s prompt at dVerse ~ Poetics: Sylvia and Ted. Where we’re asked to write about growing, multiplying, invasive species. As well as try to emulate style of one of the poets.

I decided upon the challenge to keep my line short, with five syllables in each like Sylvia Plath’s Mushroom. It took some editing, but eventually I got there. But boy, do my inner saboteurs have a field day every time I decide to say I actually can do something that connects with writing. Just as they did when I decided to make a new translation of one of Edith Södergran’s poems.
Even though I actually have paid bills working as a freelance translator.

As yesterday’s Haibun challenge showed me how much harder I have with counting syllables in English than my native Swedish. This time I put most words trough a syllable counter I found online.

Wikipedia informed me that this weed too have at least one song to it’s honor.

Ode to a dancer


Your movement is mesmerizing enchanting
Your body radiating exuberance
Your eyes sparkle with joy

Sharing the bliss of dance with us all
Teaching how to be in the moment of movement
A guiding star to follow

All these words and more I would pen for you
As many as it takes to show my gratitude
After all, the smile on your face, the energy you give

Have led me back to a path thought lost
Rekindled a passion smothered
Showed that honing your skill will always pay off

I thank the fates for putting you in my life

In gusting autumn winds
bare bowers sway like
arms of dancers.

Written for dVerse. First time trying this format. Hope it’s mostly right… Written on the fly, will fix formatting later.

Life in words

My Story by Karina llergo  (used with permission)

Tried to live life
devoid of a muse
That way lies darkness
dwindling until translucent
a faded photo of true self
The answer lies
within the ink of a pen
Trough it heart mind soul
flow onto paper
Words full of meaning
with symbols paint the image
the hand can’t sketch
As the words in poetry take flight
Heart swell with love
Mind fills with thanks
Soul shines with life


Written for today’s prompt at toads; Bits of Inspiration ~ My Story

The breathtaking image is by Karina llergo, funnily enough, tough there is so much movement here, so much that makes me think of my love for dance. My poetry took another direction. :-)

After the rain

After the Rain by Cyril Rolando

A walk in the clearing morning sun
To a site where recorded history begun
Grounded by what man once sown
I feel hope at the new dawn
The light have a new quality
Some things are now impossible to not see
An century old stone bridge in the sun gives rest
When the gravity of everything puts me to the test
Tears start to fall
Is it the rejection of it all
Did I expect or want more
Even though I said differently before
Sun in my eye and warm on closed lids
I examine if there are feelings hid
Sorrow wells in a pyroclastic flow
Scalding tears in it’s tow
Two things abruptly clears
Reasons for all these tears
First I’d had managed to fool myself
Feeling safe is not a need put on a shelf
Second something I didn’t know
A loss that leads to all this woe
I have forgotten how it feels
To know a chance of love for me is real
Aphrodite stayed true to her way
When she sent a messenger won’t stay
He were only ever a loan
To get a seed of hope in me sown
Reignite a heart forsaken
In a dream where nothing is forcibly taken
Every pleasure freely given
Actions by care and empathy driven
Words spoken with an honest tongue
Sharing feelings without fear of getting stung
To finally experience mutual trust
A frozen libido thaws releases lust
Thank the Goddess for this boon
Living fantasy beneath the sun and moon
A day spent in his embrace
Fortify me for what I have to face
When our dream fade I’m no longer dwindled
My being shot through with passions rekindled
All of that… and Insights given
He went back to the life he was living


I took one look at the prompt picture and went straight to my library of note books. There was one poem I started this summer, but never finished… And Cyril Rolando’s beautiful artwork immediately put me in a space to work on it again.


I’m in a debt of gratitude to Sunday Muse and Cyril Rolando for the inspiration to finish this.
Also posted to Poets United Pantry of Poetry and Prose #5

Musical inspiration while writing came from a new EP by Au5.

Onyx darkness

Nyx Goddess of Night

Leave any light on the endless shelves
Speak the pass phrase
Only those with flawless elocution
A mind open to betwixt and between
Shall pass the warden
Go through the Nyx-door
Plunge into onyx darkness
Within are nights that never die
Without the world spins on
Here only esthesis will guide you
Stay as long as it pleases thee.


Written for Get Listed! with a Mystery Guest at toads.
Really fun, and much harder to than one word prompts.

Website Built with WordPress.com.

Up ↑