Daily Haibun – August Days (2nd August)

August days. Hot and humid. Smelling of bone dry grass. Crickets playing. Gusty winds whipping trees around. Thunder rumbles. Lighting crackles. Sheets of rain.

Storm passes. Mist rises in dance. Pink and gold dusk clouds. Moon rises in deep blue. Orion marches across the sky.

First stirring of fall

Last days of sweet summer warmth

Harvest and school start

© RedCat

Today my Daily Haibun is written for Haibun Monday at dVerse.

Read other Haibun’s written for the monthly dVerse prompt by me here.

Read other Daily Haibun’s here.

Sweet Summer Nights – A Monotetra Poem

Sweet-smelling summer night in June
Night is full of enchanted tunes
Ground with sparkling dewdrops is strewn
Magic of moon, magic of moon

The wind silvery giggles carries
Hiding among the blue posies
A dancing frolic of fairies
Wings like daisies, wings like daisies

In the pale midsummer night sky
Pink tinted clouds swiftly scuds by
We soar together you and I
As swallows fly, as swallows fly

The moon is full and shining bright
Bathing us in her blessed light
As we share in earthly delights
Sweet summer night, sweet summer night


Written for Poetry Form: Monotetra at dVerse. It’s always a fun challenge to try out a new form.

 The monotetra is a poetic form developed by Michael Walker. Here are the basic rules:

*Comprised of quatrains (four-line stanzas) in tetrameter (four metrical feet) for a total of 8 syllables per line

*Each quatrain consists of mono-rhymed lines (so each line in the first stanza has the same type of rhyme, as does each line in the second stanza, etc.)

*The final line of each stanza repeats the same four syllables. This is what makes the monotetra so powerful as a poetic form – the last line contains two metrical feet, repeated.

*This poem can be as short as 1 or 2 quatrains and as long as a poet wishes.

Stanza Structure:

Line 1: 8 syllables; A1

Line 2: 8 syllables; A2

Line 3: 8 syllables; A3

Line 4: 4 syllables, repeated; A4, A4


Solitude and I (2020 Re-post)

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Abandoned and abused, I grew to fear you
But in truth, I where reared by you

Bullied as other, ostracized by my peers
Alone with daily jeers, leers and snears
Childhood and adolescence, year after year
Branding me as strange and queer

Yours the only company to keep me near
Convincing me I’m a mere shadow
Not really alive, not supposed to be here

Developed intimate knowledge of all your tiers
As loneliness you have tooth and claws that tear
Lead chains that trust steer
Forged by every untruth spear
Betrayal heart and soul sear
Invisible barriers separating, from those you hold dear

Dark lonely nights your visits I fear
Haunted hours filled with tears
Leaving me hollow and sheer
As pale dawn washes the heavens clear

After becoming a mother, I’ve started to befriend you, we’re
Old pals, whatever the history, that’s clear
Nowadays I even hold our moments dear
Filled with new knowledge, hope and trust
I’ll never again from my own side veer

All that I seek
I can find within my own heart soul sphere


Photo by James Wheeler on Pexels.com

Re-post comment:

Loneliness has been much on my mind and in my feelings the last couple of weeks. Both the kind is need and seek. And the kind that can make me feel wholly alone in a room full of people.

So this poem is this week’s archive find.


This piece where not something I wished to write, but perhaps needed to write, as whatever I thought about the subject solitude – that I express both it and loneliness quite often – got drowned out by this piece rhymes running in loops in my mind.

In the prompt Björn writes;
In today’s situation of social distancing, we all have taken a crash course in loneliness, and when learning to cope. Today I would like you to write about your own experience with how you find strength in solitude or how you still struggle with loneliness.

Flower to my eye – A Sonett


He was a man of luxurious means
Always able to indulge his fancies
Living life fit for the glossy magazines
He had no time for wind singing through trees

Away on one of his impulsive journeys
One day he met the girl of his dreams
Seeing her his restless soul appeased
Her warm smile like caressing sunbeams

Yet, he found her wants as elusive as moonbeams
She didn’t desire being a spoiled jetset wife
To her happiness from nature’s wonders stream
Irreconcilable differences lost him the love of his life

To never forget that money can’t happiness buy
He daily puts a flower next to his eye


Written for Poetics: The Proverbial at dVerse and inspired by the photo challenge at Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie.

The photo led me to thinking of two different proverbs.

Apple of my eye

“Flower of this purple dye,
Hit with Cupid’s archery,
Sink in apple of his eye”.

Shakespeare – A Midsummer Night’s Dream.


Stop and smell the roses

Photo by Thoa Ngo on Unsplash

Life Ebb And Flow – A Quadrille

Life ebb and flow,
Always heading towards that frightening unknowable goal
It streams that way whether we flounder or soar
That is why, the wise ones say
Make the most out of every day
Because you never know
What hazards in the streambed lays


Photo by Landsil on Unsplash

Written for tonight’s Quadrille prompt at dVerse. That fun little form with just 44 words, with a given prompt word. Not including the title. Tonight the given word is stream.

Read other Quadrilles by me here.

Lord Of Hope, Lady Of Love – A Chant

Photo by Jason Leung on Unsplash

Lord of hope
Help us cope
Love our light and darkness both

Lady of love
As stars above
Let us spread our love

From south to north
Bring spirits forth
Bless the fire in our hearths

From east to west
Bring us rest
Protect us in our life quest

Bring sun and rain
Heal our pain
Wash away fear’s chains

Let wild winds blow
Let the lonely know
There’s always love within your glow

Lord of hope
Help us cope
Love our light and darkness both

Lady of love
As stars above
Let us spread our love


Photo by Luca Bravo on Unsplash

Written for Meet the bar with Chant poetry at dVerse. Those of you who read me before know I love rhythm and repetition. And often write Pantoums and Triolets for example. 

I played around with several triplets before deciding on putting some of them together. I wanted this to be more rhythmically complex than previous chants I’ve written.
“Come Poets Hope” for example has the same rhythm throughout.

I imagine this being chanted by a whole coven. Either as a duet or trio. Perhaps even as a canon. Each stanza in itself works as a chant.

The Garden – A Prose Poem

Photo by Cosmic Timetraveler on Unsplash

For many years the garden lay neglected.
overgrown with sorrow weeds and thorny trauma brambles.
Creative stream choked off,
the source strangled by fear.
No longer filling the deep story pool.
Unable to attract sparkling dragonflies of fantasy,
buzzing idea bees or paradise birds flights of fancy.

The weeping willow shedding its leaves in grief.
Becoming naked skeleton of raking nightmare fingers.
The starving muse wilts and fades.
Retreating into dark amnesic mist under the onslaught of anxiety rain,
depressive storms.

A bolt of awakened lightning sheared through the bruised cloud cover.
Putting the strangling weeds in flames.
Rekindling the suffocated creative fire.
Birthing a fierce Phoenix from the flames.
Rousing the sleeping muse with a song of newfound life.
Hailing the first ray of kind sunlight.
Praising the smatter of nurturing rain.

Now the garden blooms and grows.
Tended by the muse and the soul Phoenix.
The brook babbles and laughs as it flows.
The air is filled with fragrance,
the sound of wings of every shape and size.
Safe in the knowledge their host will never again,
let anything her creativity compromise.


Photo by Jie on Unsplash

Written for Poetics: Garden(ing) at dVerse. As I took my evening walk, thinking about gardens and gardening. This is what came to mind. Following a thought about one of the first writing communities I found “Imaginary garden with real toads”. A place that made me feel welcome and a place who’s kind encouragement kept me writing through all my doubts, making me think that I could do this. I know many of you might have a hard time believing it. But I’ve been writing poetry for less than two years. I’m still finding my way and my voice.

This is not the first and probably won’t be the last time I’ve written something very personal to a prompt. My writing is both pent up creativity poured out, and a form of dealing with and working through everything that’s happened to me.

Photo by Jeff Finley on Unsplash

Chicago Juke – A Quadrille

Chicago Footwork

Up and down the city streets
The place is quivering with heat
Rising from the dusty concrete
Undulating to the juke’s syncopated beat
Everybody Chicago footworking their feet
A dance where struggle liberation meets
Echoing the racing heartbeats
As the vocals reverse and repeat


Written for tonight’s Quadrille prompt over at dVerse. The sweet little poem consists of just 44 words. Since our host urged us to: 

“Let’s get the hips a swaying to the rhythm //of words. Let your voices rise & SinG!” 

Quadrille 131 – with Brian Miller

I chose another meaning of the prompt word juke. That of the music genre Chicago Juke that is intimately connected with the dance form footwork

You can listen to the music and watch the dance in the links I’ve added.

Happy tenth anniversary!

Read other Quadrilles by me here.

Bangs and Works Volume 1

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