Monthly Archives: July 2014

Haiku for a summer morning

Jane Dougherty Writes

Early morning cats
watch the swifts’ mad flight—sunrise
in their golden eyes

©John Firth ©John Firth

Summer gardening
lush green of fig and grape vine
tendrils in my hair.


Swifts—summer sound
Shrieking through the balmy air
Joyous melody.

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She watches the boat on the river

Jane Dougherty Writes

This is my promotion weekend and I’ve been having fun tweeting spoof endorsements of my books. On a more traditional note, here’s a poem from the final book of the series, Beyond the Realm of Night.


The wind on the river has blown you away
And your little white boat that pulled out from the trees
With its cargo of shadows and dreams left unsung
And the song that you sung was caught up by the breeze

Oh will you come back to me, love she calls
And bring back the piece of my heart you stole
For without you the day is as dull as the night
And without you the pattern will never be whole.

You turn and you wave but the light in your face
Shows her a sadness that no words could say.
I’ll come back when the sun lights the night sky, you call,

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A Poem by Author Lockie Young

Chris The Story Reading Ape's Blog

 Sand Swirls

Little grains of sand.

That’s what we are.

Floating in a sea of serendipity.

Settling to the edge, on the periphery.

Never knowing when is to be our destiny

To fall off the edge, or land in harmony.

Little grains of sand, falling through our hands.

Landing hard on firm ground

Or floating free in surf’s sound.

Little grains of sand, falling through our hands.

Little grains of sand.

That’s what we are.

Waiting for the hand of fate to brush us off

Her backside as she gets out of the water.

By Lockie Young


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Haiku My Heart: Nocturnal

Reading Pleasure

Done for Carpe Diem Haiku Shuukan prompt, Nocturnal. And also for Recuerda Mi Corazon

Credits: Nocturnal

dreaming of you

dancing on the moon

all night long


you and I

reflected on the moon

dancing shadows

Copyright © Celestine Nudanu 

I appreciate your patience with me as I catch up on your blogs. Thanks a million! Shalom.

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State of War

Poesy plus Polemics

"Encounter of the Worlds" Painting by Karel Appel “Encounter of the Worlds”
Painting by Karel Appel

hours fall heavily
in parables of flesh
breathing labored
and drawn from
black wells fouled
by wild suspicion

sighs rise and
converge in a
violent dirge
filled with echoes
of Banquo’s
dead conscience

this killing by kings
who kill kings
may redound to
their legends but
never to quietly
suffering subjects

war flows among
yearnings at times
a mere trickle
more often a flood
in whose wash swim
the corpses of angels

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The Troubles in my Life


Day in day out

my troubles comes

my troubles go

just like the wind blows

i seem to manufacture

my own misery

alcohol and drugs has

beaten my body down

my body can’t seem

to recover overnight

yet i won’t ever give

it a break

my problems won’t

seem to vanish in

a twinkling of an eye

it is remarkable how

my twisted thinking is

i wake up and pop a top

and jump on the train again

will i ever win?

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“My World” – poem

New love poem “My World” on blog!

I Love Romance Blog

My World

I love when we are close.

Touch is so necessary at times,

The world’s needs pressing in on us until it seems there’s no escape.


 I need your arms,

The feel of your skin on mine to ground me.


I need your lips,

The way you brush them over my forehead,


The way you love so completely,

not just with your body but with your soul as well.


The comfort of having you near is more than I can ever explain.

I’m not sure when I knew you were mine.

Sometimes I think it was that careful dance around each other that we had at first.

When I dared you to kiss me,

You did and I’ll never forget it.


I feel it every time our lips meet,

The way I can get so lost in you.

It seems I’ve always known you were my future.

Life has…

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Guest Poet – Jane Dougherty

12 Degrees & Skiving

Jane Dougherty from Jane Dougherty Writes has been kind enough to contribute this week as guest poet.*

Author of The Green Woman series, Jane’s poetry, very like her longer tales, is lyrical and filled with the dark folk tale and ‘other’ or ‘outsider’ imagery that I identify with {Steeleye Span and Cruel Sister – amongst many others – was the background soundtrack to my childhood and the antidote to anything pink or prim}.

Without further ado, here’s Jane’s poem.

Where the tide ebbs low

In the mud by the river
The kingcups grow
And the alders bow and the white gulls cry.
On the bank of the river rolling by
The tide runs high and the tide ebbs low.

In the reeds by the river
When the sun is low
Where the heron stands in the alders’ shade
The willow hangs over a secret glade
A rushy bank where…

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