Guarded By The Unicorn – A Trimetric Poem

In the pale midsummer night
Young lovers the forest adorn
Fiery passion shining bright
A love-star is born

Young lovers the forest adorn
Bathed in magic full moon light, guarded by the fierce unicorn
Champion that for true love fights

Fiery passion shining bright
Reflected in the spiral horn, shining beacon to every soul’s sight
As heart’s hope is reborn

A love-star is born
Manifestation of the Goddess might, true heart and soul love is sworn
In the pale midsummer night


Written for Poetry Form: Trimeric at dVerse. Trimetric is a new form for me but one I found satisfying the same way I do Pantoums or Triolets, so I’m sure I’ll write more.

Also shared to the Writers’ Pantry.

Today’s poetry form is Trimeric (Trimeric \tri-(meh)-rik\), which was invented by Charles A. Stone.

The rules are pretty simple:

1. Trimeric has 4 stanzas

2. The first stanza has 4 lines

3. The other three stanzas have 3 lines each

4. The first line of each stanza is a refrain of the corresponding line in the first stanza (so 2nd stanza starts with the second line, third stanza starts with the third line, etc.).

5. The sequence of lines, then, is abcd, b – -, c – -, d – -.

No other rules on line length, meter, or rhyme.


Quietly Contemplating Continuation

Photo by George Becker from Pexels

Quietly contemplating continuation
Which way will wisdom grow
Will writing veer life
Shall sonnets soul spark show

Release old rules too relied on
Prepare for passions power
Find a faint force of freedom
Soak in shimmering star showers

Play with your Phoenix power
Follow fantasies fever frisson
Trust in true talking hearts
Moon-madness magic mission


Mind off on other things, I’ve decided to take a step back and allow myself to relax, take stock of everything written last year. Contemplate where I want my creativity to go next.

I’ll still participate in a few prompts, but for the duration of January my focus will be on other things.

Photo by Phil Kallahar from Pexels

Let’s be Silly

Photo by Wellington Cunha on

The world is crying out
for levity and light
for laughter and hugs

So, let’s be silly
you and I
reaffirm our inner child

There’s still love and light in the world
still fantasy, magic, wonder and exploration
still hope for future happy days


Posted as response to Lighten up a bit! a dVerse, where today’s Quadrille word is “Silly”.

Have filled myself with joy and energy with dancing jive tonight.
Always puts a big smile on my face.

Read other Quadrilles here.

Photo by Snapwire on

May Sunday 2020

Photo by Bcny on

Puddle of Sunday calm
Gem of weekend charm
Dollop of soul felt balm
Light keep the lonely warm
Magic prayer within my palm
True essence life transform


Gave myself a long weekend of publishing, let the writing come on it’s own. Made some extra time and space to meditate. Grateful for a “normal” Sunday in unnormal times. And heading into the tenth week of social distancing, I really needed that. A hint of life going forward, not standing still, huddling. A hint of summer to come. A hint of normalcy.

Photo by Immortal Shots – Real Life on

White – Red – Black

Photography by Anatasiya Dobrovolskaya click HERE for Website

Bright lifeforce of the maiden
Crimson battlelust for a lost future
Weeping in dark despair for a dying Earth

Nurturing love of the mothers milk
Blood of birthing a new world
Ice fury of a heartbroken woman scorned

Immortal wisdom of the crone
Magic of history, blood and bone
Cold shadow of looming gravestone


Sunday Muse # 102

GloPoWriMo 2020

DAY 1 – Build a New Start
DAY 2 – Beloved Bookstore
DAY 3 – Sunshine and Hail
DAY 4 – Isolation Dating
DAY 5 –Staring out a Windowpane
DAY 6 – Casanova Comes Closer
DAY 7 – Swirling Colors of my Mind
DAY 8 – White – Red – Black
DAY 9 – Different World After
DAY 10 – Spring Hay(na)ku
DAY 11 – Love – Hay(na)ku
DAY 12 – Make Art – Triolet inspired
by Neil Gaiman and Chris Riddell
DAY 13 – What did you think would happen
to a child left on my doorstep?
DAY 14 – Ballad of the Lost Poet
DAY 15 – Writer’s class – Hay(na)ku
DAY 16 – What is a Nomad without a Tribe?
DAY 17 – Pale Spring, Here Again, Nature Awake
DAY 18 – Spring Day in the Garden
DAY 19 – Close Couplets
DAY 20 – Lost in Love’s First Flush
DAY 21 – She Tasted Like Memory
DAY 22 – Struggling Mind
DAY 23 – Written in the book of dust
DAY 24 – At the end of every week, Friday-Cozy!
DAY 25 – Slip, Crack, Shatter
DAY 26 – Humans Really Don’t Know
DAY 27 – April Rain
DAY 28 – Greeting the Watch Horse
DAY 29 – Letter of Hope
DAY 30 – Witches Walpurgis Night Preparation

Photo by Sunyu Kim on

Beloved Quadrille

Photo by Pixabay on

Guiding us to weigh each word
So our message can be heard

In only four and twoscore
No less, no more

Brightens dreary Monday nights
As chosen word appear to sight

Feel shared inspiration magic darkness fill
When poets gathers for their beloved Quadrille


Another prompt has its hundredth installment. This time dVerse’s Quadrille, a poem with 44 words not including title.

Since much feels blue or outright dreadful these days, I decided on some levity and honoring the form itself.

Read other of my Quadrilles here.

Photo by Pixabay on

Magnificent Magical Tree

© RedCat

Once there was a magnificent magical tree. It stood in lonesome majesty upon a hill with densely wooded slopes. The tree were widely known and talked about, even pictured in art. But none had ever visited the tree itself. For at the bottom the hill were protected by nasty long thorny brambles and an icy, frisky, current filled stream that acted as a natural mote.
Local legend held that the tree and hill belonged to a witch. Not that anyone had ever seen anything but bramble, rabbits, dear, lynxes, bats, owls and any number of birds moving upon the hill.

One night an unnatural stormed blew up, lashing the hill, and only the hill, with torrents of rain, thunderclaps that shook the earth, and spear upon spear of dazzling lightning strikes.

In the morning the tree stood bare, broken and burnt. Stretching gnarled twisted branches low over the hill. The stream had burst its banks and flooded part of the plain with broken pieces of forest and burnt animal carcasses.
When the water receded the earth laid bare, burnt, but infertile. Like the scorching of the hill had killed every living thing, down to the smallest microbes.

So it stands to this day. The once proud tree, brought to its knees. Bare skeleton, picked clean of all life. The hill and surrounding plain dusty and windblown. No greenery has ever crossed the threshold.

The sanctuary of the Witch, forever broken. All spells torn asunder.

My sanctuary, my spells, my tree, my forested sloped hill. All living things in my domain. Lost, dead. My only safe spaced, invaded, crushed, lying in ruin.

I recall the sudden storm. It’s unnatural ferocity. I could feel the ill will behind it. Knew who had decided to try to break me by taking away my safety, my sanity.
After that I only recall running, hiding, fighting for my life, losing my way and part of my mind as my fortress fell and burned.

But I didn’t die, just disappeared a while.
Now I’m back, without a place to call home.

© RedCat

Posted in response to Weekly Scribblings #7 This is a Tribute.

Sunshine seal my vow

John Bauer

Wandering through colonnades of majestic pine
Hidden shadowy underworld
Stabbed through with shafts of silvery shine
Ground-mist seething, furl and unfurl

Crescent moon upon my brow
To east where light return
Sunshine seal my solemn vow
Trust your guidance and wisdom to receive hearts yearn

Faint I feel the Goddess response
Live life guided by true hearts desire
Prepare for an upheaval, life renaissance
Follow the path that your muse inspire
Love, laugh, follow foolish ideas now and then
Rest assured you have the lionheart strength
Find those moments of zen
Have faith you know your souls wavelength


Wrote the first draft of this a few days ago. Since then I’ve wrestled with editing the piece. By know I don’t know if I doubt this piece because something is missing, or because there is some internal upheaval in my life right now. Usually I don’t have trouble – letting a piece go – and hitting the publish button, but this time I do.

So some feedback would be gladly accepted, be it good or bad.

I never knew, or dreamed, I would write poetry, so this is a learning experience to discover and hone my craft.

Inspiered by Kerry’s Skylover Wordlist for February
Also posted to Celebrating OLN from San Diego! at dVerse.

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