My darling daughter – Verse Epistle

My darling curious quick witten daughter,
my love for you will never falter.
Life’s greatest joy is to be your father.

You are a wonder to my old eyes,
your lust for life always makes me smile.
Ever since you came to us under a full moonrise.

I will always be your steadfast rock.
Always protect you like a keen eyed hawk.
Always there if you need a hug or to talk.

I am forever proud and grateful,
I have a child so caring and merciful.
Thankful the universe entrusted me with a soul so beautiful.

My greatest wish for you is a life filled with love,
with friends and laughter and the freedom of,
letting dreams grow wings to fly the heavens like a dove.


A letter or perhaps a diary entry, I spent my lonely childhood dreaming of. Something to hold close to my heart, something that would tell me I was once loved and cherished.

I’m glad I finally found a way to write what that little girl so dearly needs!

Written for Exploring the poetic genre: “Verse Epistle” over at dVerse.


What did you think would happen to a child left on my doorstep?

Photo by Skitterphoto on

What did you think would happen to a child left on my doorstep?
Free to roam the the shelves.
Delve into the dusty archives.
A whole childhood to read whatever took her fancy.

She learned everything she knows from me.
I always accepted, comforted and nurtured her.
When no one else did.
She felt safe spending hours.
Within my booked lined walls.

Of course she’d find.
Fantastic stories to immerse in.
Hilarious verses to laugh with.
Poetry as steamy as any video.
More facts than you know.
Opposing ideas and new wisdom.
Philosophy and all the religions.
Mystical traditions founded in ancient history.

Curious children do that you see.
They search for and soak up stories and facts.

Of course all that.
Paper and ink.
Facts and fictions.
Millions of words.

Put her under my spell.
Made her seek my sanctuary.
Endeavour to write stories of her own.

Wondrous worlds of strange beauty.
The nature seen through loving eyes.
Sensual stanzas that arouses desire.
Horrifying tales of death and suffering.

Yes! I confess!
That bright discarded child.
I made her mine by love.
Of knowledge and words.

Now she lives in the apartment of the head librarian.
Spending days and nights with words.
I think she’s happy!


Written for today’s GloPoWriMo prompt, to write a non-apology. Very fun!
Also linking to OLN at dVerse.

Photo by Janko Ferlic on

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

Staring out a Windowpane

PHOTO PROMPT © Douglas M. MacIlroy

She stared out the windowpane.
The garden looked the same.
No help to an pandemic frame.

To witness the historic now.
While searching for how
To relieve suffering somehow.

Her reverie disturbed.
Flutter of wings is heard.
A landing blackbird.

In its birds eye gaze.
Reflection show all the ways.
Loving compassion leads out of this maze.

So she starts to write.
What she saw with her inner sight.
As she meditated on this long dark human night.

That every human need to reflect.
On everyone’s worth and need to love connect.
To responsibility for planet and all humans accept.


Inspired by the Friday Fictioneer photo, and my meditation found mantra from earlier today.

A prose poem story in 100 words.

Click on the frog for more stories.

Now I Can See…

Photo by Rakicevic Nenad on

Every person or incident is the Universal Teacher ~ ?

A continent in flames where not enough.
Can all continents in the grip of pandemic.

Wake us up?

Teach us we have one planet.
Show that we need each other to survive.

Behind the worry and panic.
After – every nation for itself.
Following the world closing in on itself.

There will be an opportunity for growth.
A chance for insights.
A possibility to evolve, as individuals and collectively as a species.

Learn how to prepare properly, crises and catastrophes are part of human life.
Realize that most value life, health and relationships higher than material possessions.
Accept we must care for our home. Our beautiful blue green planet.
Mother of us all.

As the dust settle,
my wisdom guided strength,
subtle like roots,

© RedCat

My opening quote, comes from this song. The sampling itself seem to be based upon – Rules for Being Human by Cherie Carter-Scott. And seem to exist in several versions. This is the one most closely resembling the one I learned, here you can read several others.

Much like this prose piece ending with an American sentence, resembles other poems by me.

“Barn’s burnt down, now I can see the moon.”
Mizuta Masahide

Written for Mish’s poetics prompt at dVerse.

Enlightening words from Masahide, 17th Century samurai, poet , mentored by Matsuo Basho. In Zen poetry, the moon often symbolizes the truth or ultimate awareness. The burning barn could be the hardship or catastrophic loss we must experience in order for our sky to clear, our minds to clear, creating a new view. Perhaps then and only then, will we be awakened.

What do you see? Something you haven’t before? Something you’ve forgotten? New perspectives, priorities or something much deeper. A revelation in thought? What does the moon represent to you in Masahide’s terse, epiphanous message? What does your burning barn look like? Have you experienced your own personal insight or enlightenment as the world deals with this ongoing crisis? Ponder these questions and pen us a poem.

Photo by Pixabay on

Novel Virus

CDC / Public domain

Can a novel virus teach
What climate emergency so far have not?
The interconnectedness of a global world
No country beyond its reach
Collective action the only sensible plot
Work together without accusing insults hurled

Can a novel virus show
What’s closest to our hearts
What we value most of all
Do we dare accept, have courage to know
Faithfully confess what we display in all our art
Happiness only ever lay in following loving soul calls

Can a novel virus reveal
How compassionate living will be
Only way out the materialistic maze
Can we make a New Green Deal
Accept responsibility humbly
Changing our planet wrecking, extreme storm inducing ways?


It would be easy right now to give in to hopelessness and despair. It hangs as a virulent miasma over the world. This new, unknown threat, has shook us to the core, in a way the rampantly accelerating environmental disaster has not. It has shown our mean, stupid side in different panicky behaviour, like avoiding all asians from the start, like stockpiling toiletpaper of all things, like shunning Corona beer. It also shows our denial, it’s only in Asia, not here, it’s only in Italy, not Scandinavia. Like the alps haven’t long been a favorite winter destination, like there’s not constant physical contact between people from different countries within many industries.

I think it scares us shitless, just because we know that we haven’t built a world that can handle any big upset. There is no marginals. Not enough time to react. In Sweden there is not enough intensive care units to handle a big outbreak. There might be shortages of testing equipment worldwide. Also we live with a financial system, aka the economy, that is one very skittish easily scared entity. Built upon something as unreasonable as everlasting growth…

The panic we try to hide is also the panic of loneliness, the fear of being sick, maybe dying, in a world locked in isolation. Humans are social creatures, dependent on interactions with others.

Personally I would advise wisdom instead of panic. If we truly want to stop Covid-19 from spreading the only way is to limit human physical interactions to a minimum for a while. Yes, that would be disruptive, but not as disruptive as most other scenarios.

Maybe it could also make us rediscover.
That consuming things is not what we need most. Flying all over to meet, instead of using technology we already possess, to meet virtually, is also often bad time and resource management. When the people we most often wanna meet are loved ones. Maybe that new plastic toy don’t have to be bought because the family have rediscovered how to play in the woodland.

Apparently we live in interesting times…

New Zealand Government / Public domain

Linked to earthweal weekly challenge: STORMS and the poem part also shared to At the Beginning of a Pandemic* … your next Wednesday Writing Prompt, hosted this week by Michael Dickel at The Poet By Day

Time Impermanence

Julo / Public domain

Mankind invented time
So we could measure and explore
Dissect the world until understanding
Except we couldn’t comprehend
Our home a finely tuned
Planet-wide interconnected chaos system
Didn’t want to know
Nature isn’t ruled by us
She moves and react after her laws
Not the ones stipulated
By on of her youngest offspring
Still ignorant of our place in creation

Now time is collapsing in on itself
Deep time
All the billion years since Big Bang
The five billion years of Earth
The thousand of years since the last Ice age
Which effects are still visible in my Nordic landscape
Still makes our shores rise a few millimeters each year
The planet still regaining a more rounded shape

We who haven’t been around
For more than a blink of Earth’s eyes
Are changing the planet
In scales that affect geological, deep time
Even if the layer we will leave in the earth’s strata
Will be minuscule in size
The change after that strata of human existence
Might show a planet gone wild due to our tinkering
A planet destroyed beyond
The narrow climate band that can sustain human life

What will we leave behind?
Will the planet still be blue-green harbour of myriad lifeforms?
Will the human race survive to evolve?


Posted as response to Poetics: Impermanence at dVerse and to weekly challenge: A Clockwork Green at earthweal.

nikoretro / CC BY-SA 2.0

Deadly Waters

Raphael Andres [CC BY 3.0]

With water to protect borders.
Just close the ports to stop migrants from coming.
They’ll drown.
But what value do we assign someone leaving failing states to seek a better life?

In-continent frozen waters.
European mountain winter, show paperless migrants from a wholly different clime.
Why all winter-snow bearing people through history found it wise to respect, fear and revere the Gods of Cold.


Wrote this after again reading about migrants dying to enter or cross Europe.
And that the UN has declared climate refugees can not be sent home – I wonder I anyone cares…

Apparently I where unclear in my previous post today – It rains! Right? – that was my first earthweal post this week and this will be my second. Last weeks challenge prompt Ghost made me write this – Restless rest.

Beira (Scottish myth)
Internet Archive Book Images [No restrictions]

Eden of havoc


You are here for judgment by the Gods,
You may put faith in us, But We do not bear responsibility for your actions.

The Rock cries out to us today,
You may stand upon me, But do not hide your face.
The Sea butts us about today,
You may swim within me, But do not deny your inaction.
The Wind whines to us today,
You may use my power, But do not avert your eyes.
The Fire roars around us today,
You may use my warmth, But do not harden your heart.

Mother Earth accuses us today,
You may be birthed by me, But do not expect a gentle Eden.

Humanity flails around, Still playing King of the hill, No Age of Aquarius in sight.
Siblings fighting over every toy, Wreaking havoc wherever we go.
Can we evolve, Grow up, Come together, Save ourselves?

144 words, without the title.
Written for Prosery 1/20/20: “The Rock cries out…”
This one is a prose poem I believe…

Prosery this week ask us to incorporate the following quote;

“The Rock cries out to us today, You may stand upon me, But do not hide your face.”

Maya Angelou, “On the Pulse of Morning” (excerpt) from On the Pulse of Morning. Copyright © 1993 by Maya Angelou. Used by permission of Random House, an imprint and division of Penguin Random House LLC. All rights reserved.
Source: The Complete Collected Poems of Maya Angelou (Random House Inc., 1994)

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