Cat Games

She is bored.

It's wet outside.

Like me, she thinks

to relieve it with food,

but I don't inflict on her

the ill-health I risk for myself.

She prowls around my chair,

circles from it to the door,

rubs against me; soon

may even try a miaow.

There's one solution: 
I must be playmate.

Toys for dangling

Toy for chasing

Exercise: 55 words (excluding title)

Also linking to Monday Writes #125 and to Midweek Motif – Animals at Poets United

Thunder

rumbles

far off

I hope

for rain

far off

briefly

fading

I hope

the plants

will live

for rain

refrains

from fall

I had a fancy to try a trimeric with very short lines.

Linking to Gillena's Monday WRites

Sufficiency

Icy night,

although days 

from winter.

To hold 

warmth close …

but mind

must match.

I am 

who can 

companion me.

Heavy blanket, 

hot bottles, 

toy teddy –

warm enough.

Process notes:
An erasure poem – but  the source was my own first draft, which wasn't working, and I'm not going to share it with you. In fact I haven't kept it. Doing the erasure, I found myself in a game of keeping only two words per line. (Then I did rearrange some a little.) Finally worked on it a bit more, thanks to suggestions from the excellent Pearl Pirie, see Comments.

Linked to Gillena Cox's Monday WRites and also to the current Tuesday Platform at 'imaginary garden with real toads

Dark Night, Full Moon

A small full moon, high

in a blackly cloud-covered,

almost starless sky.

Only one point of light,

Mars, is visible with her –

bold, warm and bright.

It is enough. There is peace

inside the womb-dark,

a soft release.

The night makes no sound.

I enter sacred space.
The circle folds me round.

(But I couldn't get a good one that included Mars.)

Linked to Gillena's Monday WRites and to the Tuesday Platform for 24 May 2016 at 'imaginary garden with real toads'.

Ripping It Up

Hypnotised by his own music

dances to the beat

JIG jig  / JIG jig / JIG jig / THUMP!

and the guitar whines

and the guitar shrieks

and the guitar becomes

a deadly mosquito

cre-SCENdo-ing

to stab, to pierce.

I am all over the floor

destroyed

remade.

There is nowhere

left to go
and no need.

Day Two of facebook poetry chain. Linked to Gillena's Monday WRites and to The Tuesday Platform at 'imaginary garden with real toads'.

On Not Writing a Monday Poem

I wanted to write

a small, sweet Monday poem for Gillena

because she invited me to

and I like Gillena

but over the weekend

I wrote a big, exhausting

confessional poem

about hurt and healing —

about all the pieces of my life

carried in my hands,

about my quest
for balance and remaking.

After that I forgot

all about Gillena and Monday

and everything.

I was letting so much go.

This is Tuesday.

My friend Patsy

shouted me a massage

with lovely Sarah.

It was much needed.

‘You are doing a lot of detoxing,’

Sarah said. And I thought:

'I know. It’s because of Solstice.

'It’s because of what I consigned

to the Solstice fire.'
The days are still cold

but Winter is slowly leaving.

Linked to Monday WRites and to The Tuesday Platform at 'imaginary garden with real toads'.

Also posted in my facebook Notes.

A Monday Kind of Mind

A new beginning,

a starting over,

a striding forth —

but leaving reluctantly

Sunday’s lazy mood,

already a memory.

Order and organisation,

responsibility and work!

Squaring her shoulders,

she approaches Monday.

She faces Monday,

adjusting her mind.

Adjusting her mind,

she faces Monday.

She approaches Monday,

squaring her shoulders

for responsible work,

order and organisation.

Already a memory,

Sunday’s lazy mood

is leaving reluctantly.

She strides forth

and starts over —
a new beginning.

Written for Monday WRites #16

she cry fast like delirious

life is not still

we sing rust sky

as a sunup chant
goddess hair gorgeous but

stop her mad moan

what shadow and blood
the symphony is bitter sad

on honey skin in summer

Created at Magnetic Poetry, using the Original Kit (each word selected individually from those presented, and arranged by whim). I've been reading Diana: The Life of a Troubled Princess, by Sally Bedell Smith; I expect this influenced my subconscious. 

 Linked with Monday WRites15, and also to The Tuesday Platform at 'imaginary garden with real toads'.

Moon and Winter

Monday, moon day,

and full moon tomorrow.

First day of winter today:

the moon in June

here in this Hemisphere

ushering in the cold,

white cold

like Her white face.

As heat is red,

so cold is white --

but no, where I live

we never see snow

and seldom frost.

Only the sky at dusk

burns white, above the edge

of the dark mountain.

Only the heart grows cold,

and turns indoors.

The world becomes

danger, enemy; shut it out.

Huddle around

what heat you can make.

Close the curtains.

Ignore the moon.

Or come with me

up the slope,

high on the side of the mountain,

there to pause and gaze

into Her face, Her round face,

white or golden.

Bow. Or blow Her a kiss.

Her cold light will warm you.

Monday.

The rest of the world

sees it as work.

Me, I shall play on Monday.

And when night comes,

and tomorrow night,

I shall walk out
into the light of Her face.

Written for Monday WRites #14
Also shared with Tuesday Platform at 'Imaginary garden with real toads'

Love Forever True

He died on a Monday,

the third day of Spring --

for each of us

a new beginning.

Beginning anew

on an unknown journey,

each of us alone,

still we reach for connection.

We spring into day,

after the night of his illness.

On that Monday, he died

into new adventures —

new adventures into

freedom from restriction

(his illness). The night after,

he came back to visit

still reaching for connection —

a back-track, a pause

on that unknown journey.
Truly, it was love. Forever.

Written for Monday WRites #13 at Gillena's invitation. I had thought to do a first word acrostic, but my opening lines were so short that wasn't very workable, so I ended up playing about with a pattern of (almost) repeated lines instead.

Also shared with Tuesday Platform at 'imaginary garden with real toads'.