AUTUMNAL

A lonesome bird sings the evensonghis frantic wings beating towards home.I count my treasures in the darkwhere suggestible senses hold little sway.Moments tumbled through my fingers,flickering shadows danced by candlelight.Would that I could keep only joyful moments;somehow laughter and tears look alike in the lens of time.Could a rose be parted from her thorns and

A LULLABY NIGHT

I have sung all the lullabies I know. I have told and re-told his favorite stories. My voice is tired, my eyelids droop, and still, my toddler wiggles and squiggles in my arms. He would not sleep. I pray a silent prayer, he pokes my lips driving his little finger against my teeth. My disapproving

WHERE IS HOME? (a Haibun)

The other day, my nephew posted pictures of decorative structures that he and his friends have set up in my old hometown. While the change was aesthetically pleasing, something clicked inside me: Bayanan, my hometown, is gone. Bayanan has changed a lot in the years I have been away. The sleepy barrio is gone, replaced

SOLITUDE

Dance to the music playing in your soul Exult in the moment fading quickly Gather the memories like roses from a lover’s hands Harboring each flower and each thorn in the intimacy of solitude. ~~~~~~   Linking with Open Link Night #230

SANTA CLAUS OF THE STREETS

Two Sundays ago, my little son and I went for a walk to the city Green to watch the Christmas display. While admiring the gigantic Santa statue, two strangers approached us. The first man was somebody we met earlier on our way to the Green and who expressed pleasure at seeing us again. Meanwhile, I

SERENITY (WPC: Serene)

Laughter sparkles like glass bubbling with champagne until it shatters and dissolves into a pool of tears fragile is the moment quickly feelings turn serenity holds them all together like a mother’s arms holding her child close to her heart The photos may have nothing to do with the poem but somehow, they speak to

THANKSGIVING

Night Washed by Rain, glows in The street lights, Turns A dreary day to A magical moment. Darkness retreats before joy Hope sings to the rhythm of rain Blessed Silence calms the restless dreams When morning comes, my heart is new again. The horizon lights up in golden hues Shadows dissipate into nothing My eyes

MUSHROOMS

Mushrooms sprout like Bedouin tents in the cool of an autumn night in varied colors, in varied shapes much to a fairy’s delight. Under the dome of their mushroom home held aloft by one sturdy pole fairies lounge and rest their heads lulled to sleep by a hooting owl. When dawn comes, e’re the sun

FIRST FROST

first frost glittering in the early morning light awaited moment of a seasonal parade turns to tears in a heartbeat WPC:  Temporary Mundane Monday  Challenge #135

MORNING MOON

  Morning Moon holds  on to the glow given by distant Sun. Nestled in Autumn’s clear skies her contentment shines.