The Dance by Garth Brooks – Saturday Song

The Dance by Garth Brooks

I’m always very proud and a bit embarrassed whenever someone comments that one of my poems reminds them of a song. Proud because it feels like I’ve made it. Embarrassed because it feels like I’m not worthy of such comparisons. I’m working hard to do something about that last part.

That being said, my inspiration for this weekend’s song comes from Dwight at Roth poetry, who commented that my poem “When opportunity comes to call” made him think of “The Dance” by Garth Brooks

Listening to it, my pride and embarrassment got replaced by amazement. It is such a beautiful song. And here I want to use a Swedish word without a direct English translation. Finstämd which means sweet, touching, moving the heart and soul. (Finely attuned, finely-tuned, delicate and sensitive according to my dictionary.)

I teared up as I sat listening. Touched by the song and by being able to write something that reminded Dwight of it. 

I relate very much to the refrain. Yes, sometimes foreknowledge would have made it possible to avoid heartache and pain, but inevitably it would have meant missing moments that will forever shine like stars in our memory. And I for one prefer having the memories, having lived and loved. 

Listen and enjoy!


Click here to read about and listen to other Saturday Songs.


The Dance – Lyrics

Looking back on the memory of
The dance we shared ‘neath the stars above
For a moment all the world was right
How could I have known that you’d ever say goodbye

And now I’m glad I didn’t know
The way it all would end, the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance
I could have missed the pain
But I’d have had to miss the dance

Holding you, I held everything
For a moment wasn’t I the king
If I’d only known how the king would fall
Hey, who’s to say, you know I might have changed it all

And now I’m glad I didn’t know
The way it all would end, the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance
I could have missed the pain
But I’d have had to miss the dance

If our lives are better left to chance
Oh, our lives are better left to chance
Oh, our lives are better left to chance

I could have missed the pain
But I’d have had to miss the dance

Källa: Musixmatch

The Dance by Garth Brooks

The Cafe – Flash Fiction


The cafe began to feel like her only real home. A place that with or without known people made her feel less alone. A place where no one objected if her curious, quirky, whip-smart personality shone. She spent whole days sitting at a table. For the first time feeling she might be able to have friendships and camaraderie. At night she dreamt she’d stumble into a fable.

So what did the story teach? That her agile, perspicacious mind made her prone to the Jante law breach. That her fiery passion would make her for the unconventional way reach. 
She spent her days in her home away from home. Writing stories with elfs, fairies, unicorns and gnomes. Composing poetry that made her heart and soul the universe roam.

© RedCat


Wanted to write but lacked inspiration, so went on an internet trawl. Found this prompt to inspire me. The line given in this week’s First Line Friday at Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie.

The line being:

The cafe began to feel like her only real home.

Including I word I learned today, perspicacity /ˌpəːspɪˈkasɪti/ meaning the quality of having a ready insight into things; shrewdness.


Click here to read other stories by me.


What did you think would happen to a child left on my doorstep? (2020 Re-post)

Photo by Skitterphoto on Pexels.com

Re-post comment:

Wednesday and time to wander the archives. This is the second most read post from GloPoWriMo 2020.
It’s both a story and about me as a child. Books and pets where my only true companions.

Enjoy!



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!

© REDCAT

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

Photo by Janko Ferlic on Pexels.com

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

Fungi Dreams


The note said, find the white baby bella
Don’t be tempted to eat the magic shrooms, they’ll trip up you head
Avoid the white toadstools, they’ll poison you dead

The button maze, can you find your way
Deeper and deeper, Into mycel space
Be ready to both fear and wonder face

The fairy ring, at last
Join the pixies, dance and sing
Connection to nature’s wisdom, blessings bring

As you wake, out of a dream dream state
Remember the connections fungi make
Their call to action take

©RedCat

Written for Tuesday Poetics – Let’s have fun, guys! at dVerse. We’re to take fungi as our starting point for poetry. I haven’t read the book referenced in the prompt. But I’ve long been fascinated with fungi. Their abilities. To communicate. To have geographically vast networks. To both nourish and kill humans. Ability to give profound trips or maybe wake bloodlust as in the perception of viking eating fly agaric.

Baby bella, magic shrooms, toadstool, fairy ring are all names assosiated with different mushrooms.

Invisible Portal – Ekphrastic Challenge January 20

Kerfe Roig – Invisible Cities Portal 

See the shimmering rift
Sea of twinkling stars
Blooming fantasy’s gift
Awakening souls avatar

Travel through the portal
Enter unlimited possibilities space
Experience like an immortal
Every imaginable place

Creative heart’s vision
Ethereal timeless wisdom show
Embark on artistic mission
Lighted by muses crafted glow

Follow stories of the rainbow
Sail the word-stream on a moonbeam
Befriend the shadow, she inspiration bestow
Clear singing book-stream, a poet’s dream 

©RedCat

See artwork and read all poems at The Wombwell Rainbow.

Also shared on Open Link #282 – LIVE Edition.


Kerfe Roig

A resident of New York City, Kerfe Roig enjoys transforming words and images into something new.  Her poetry and art have been featured online by Right Hand PointingSilver Birch PressYellow Chair ReviewThe song is…Pure HaikuVisual VerseThe Light EkphrasticScribe BaseThe Zen Space, and The Wild Word, and published in Ella@100Incandescent MindPea River JournalFiction International: Fool, Noctua Review, The Raw Art Review, and several Nature Inspired anthologies. Follow her explorations on her blogs, https://methodtwomadness.wordpress.com/  (which she does with her friend Nina), and https://kblog.blog/, and see more of her work on her website http://kerferoig.com/

Coin – A Terzetto, Ekphrastic Challenge, January 18

Kerfe Roig – Intermediary

Breath freezes to ice
Burn scolding for every vice

Breath awakens buds bloom
Quickening soul seed in womb

Breath follow it’s way to grow
Learn life’s ebb and flow

Sight piercing dark arrow
Judging down to bone and marrow

Sight perceiving all pain
Healing without assigning blame

Sight without judging and blame
There’s no stigma or shame

Voice lashing all pray
Tender dreams slay

Voice stroking tears away
Loving confers every day

Voice chiming clear
Grateful for everything dear

Heart full of trembling fear
Nothing get touching near

Heart full of caring love
Nesting as a safe dove

Heart full of compassion
Guide you to find your passion

Kunning beyond time and space
Trauma mind and heart forever chase

Kunning beyond time and space
Ascending to glowing grace

Kunning beyond time and space
Transforming old trauma to creativity’s birthplace

Wisdom to turn a mind dark
Offences a shriveled heart mark

Wisdom older than Earth’s ages
Shining beacon in all life’s stages

Wisdom to take the reins
Reforging sword and shield from trauma chains

Magic to glamour and lure
Listen to inner saboteur

Magic to unravel mysteries
Find passion will soul please

Magic the mother’s boon
Found scy-clad beneath the moon

Together Seven flaming points
Interweave opposing viewpoints 

Together separate sides spawn
Bright champion for a new dawn

Imbued with both’s might
She stand ready to fight
Any who violate others rights

©RedCat


A terzetto is a composition for three voices. I would love to know if this serpentine formatting makes that clearly heard or if it just confuses the whole thing.

Kunning is an Faraoe word.

See all artwork and read all poems at The Wombwell Rainbow.


Kerfe Roig

A resident of New York City, Kerfe Roig enjoys transforming words and images into something new.  Her poetry and art have been featured online by Right Hand PointingSilver Birch PressYellow Chair ReviewThe song is…Pure HaikuVisual VerseThe Light EkphrasticScribe BaseThe Zen Space, and The Wild Word, and published in Ella@100Incandescent MindPea River JournalFiction International: Fool, Noctua Review, The Raw Art Review, and several Nature Inspired anthologies. Follow her explorations on her blogs, https://methodtwomadness.wordpress.com/  (which she does with her friend Nina), and https://kblog.blog/, and see more of her work on her website http://kerferoig.com/

Word – By Ulf Hässelbäck, Guest Poet

Pixabay

there’s a void where there once was vocabulary
there’s a patch worn through where there once were words

but I have hope

if in the beginning there was the word
and if despite the void that word was heard
then it matters little if my words are slurred
and their meaning blurry
for, you see

there is no hurry
no need to stress, scurry and scamper about
no need to stand on metaphorical rooftops and shout out
at the imaginary skyline

for there is still time
still time to be present in the present
leave the past that the demons sent you to
the wounds can heal if the bullets all went through
if some remain
you know what you are meant to do
what maybe
just maybe
a god sent you here to do

but, you say
if in the beginning there was no word?
not even a speck of dust to be disturbed
all silent and not even a nothing there to see?
surely
that deflates my analogy?

No it doesn’t

because, you see, it is all metaphor to me
I am not christian nor muslim nor buddhist nor pagan
but as my life is finite
there’s a place where it began
as to why I exist?

Because I can

and all the words in the world are trapped in
consciousness awareness perception
so we can´t have true conception of the
eternal infinite

but

there are always words
words to be
served savoured and heard

that is the beginning

that is the end

©Ulf Hässelbäck
Photo by Min An from Pexels

For the second time I’m happy and grateful to host Ulf Hässelbäck, who shares this poem from 2008.
RedCat

Also linking to Open Link #280 – LIVE! at dVerse.

Words dance – 2019 Re-post

For this the first Sunday in Advent I choose to re-post this lighthearted, fun word dance.

I also think it’s time to find some new words to dance with in this form.

Enjoy!


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.

©REDCAT

Photo by Matej from Pexels

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…
;-)


Originally posted Friday 29 November, 2019.

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