Autumn Legacy

Autumn Legacy
Form: Raven’s Rovi Sonnet 70

My autumn lady come take up my hand
As we let go of summer and its light
With the crops all gathered in from the land

The summer has provided for us well
Now our legacy shines in red and gold
Before the long days within winter’s spell
The time is all ours for love to behold

Let us make the stories for them to tell
As echoed desires from a time long past
For now, the days are equal to the night
Our destiny has come to here unfold
In the mystic ways that were always planned

Gone are our days of loving wild and fast
Now we lean back into golden repast


Oh, My Love by Nizar Qabbani

Nizar Qabbani 1923-1998

Oh, My Love

Oh, my love
If you were at the level of my madness,
You would cast away your jewelry,
Sell all your bracelets,
And sleep in my eyes

Nizar Qabbani
Born: 21 March 1923, Damascus, Syria
Nationality: Syrian
Died: 30 April 1998, London, UK

Qabbani was a diplomat, poet, writer, and publisher. His poetry is best known for combining simplicity and elegance to explore the themes of love, eroticism, feminism, Arab nationalism, and religion. Qabbani is among the most revered and respected contemporary poets from the Arab world and is considered Syria’s national poet

Never Trust a Stranger by Kim Wilde

Kim Wilde

Never Trust a Stranger
Album: Close
Date: 1988
Genre: Pop
Artist: Kim Wilde

Kim Wilde is a pop singer and television presenter. She first saw success in 1981 with the single “Kids in America” which reached No. 2 in the UK. Kim Wilde received the Brit Award for Best British Female solo artist in 1983. Between the years 1981 and 1996, she had 25 singles charting within Top 50 on the UK Singles Chart

Moon Phase for today: Jun 09, 2023

Moon Phases for today Moongiant

The Moon’s current phase for today and tonight is a Waning Gibbous. During this phase the Moon can be seen in the early morning daylight hours on the western horizon.This is the first phase afterthe Full Moonoccurs. It lasts roughly 7 days with the Moon’s illumination growing smaller each day until the Moon becomes a Last Quarter Moon with an illumination of 50%. The average Moon rise for this phase is between 9pm and Midnight depending on the age of the phase. The moon rises later and later each night setting after sunrise in the morning.

Today’s Waning Gibbous Phase

The Waning Gibbous on June 9 has an illumination of 65%. This is the percentage of the Moon illuminated by the Sun. The illumination is constantly changing and can vary up to 10% a day. On June 9 the Moon is 20.72 days…

View original post 109 more words

Smear (YDWP)

Inspired by and written for Your Daily Word Prompt – my thanks to Sheryl

Form: Bina

sunlight captures the streaks on the glass
vinegar and newspaper to make it shine

early summer days the sun comes to shine
and the top of the pond shimmers like glass

wiping smears from the glass I can see my pond shine


Doggo’s Delight (Simply 6 Minutes)

Inspired by and written for Simply 6 Minutes – thank you, Christine

Form: Four Kings Sonnet

The knitting needles were clicking all night
Insomnia making while drinking tea
With a loyal doggo for company
The TV flickers with non-stop blue light
The news is all wrong and nothing feels right
Flicking a button something else to see
Some old soap or a documentary
On just another insomniac night

On the morning walk doggo looks a sight
A special gift for being friends with me
Keeping me from my darkest fears that be
But his face is not of purest delight
I can but hope my doggo forgives me

Time: 6 minutes 20 seconds
Word Count: 122


Variations on a Hungarian Folksong (The Peacock) by Zoltán Kodály

Zoltán Kodály 1882-1967

Variations on a Hungarian Folksong (The Peacock)

Zoltán Kodály
Born: 16 December 1882, Kecskemét, Hungary
Nationality: Hungarian
Died: 6 March 1967, Budapest, Hungary

Kodály was a composer, ethnomusicologist, linguist, pedagogue, and philosopher. He Is internationally known as the creator of the Kodály method of music education

Masters of War by Bob Dylan

Bob Dylan

Masters of War
Album: The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan
Date: 1963
Genre: Folk
Artist: Bob Dylan

Bob Dylan is a singer-songwriter and is regarded as one of the best songwriters of all time. A major figure of popular culture for over 60 years Bod Dylan is most celebrated for his work from the 1960s with songs such as “Blowin’ in the Wind” and “The Times They Are a-Changin’” which became anthems for anti-war and civil rights movements.

Name of Horses by Donald Hall

Donald Hall 1928-2018

Name of Horses

All winter your brute shoulders strained against collars, padding
and steerhide over the ash hames, to haul
sledges of cordwood for drying through spring and summer,
for the Glenwood stove next winter, and for the simmering range.

In April you pulled cartloads of manure to spread on the fields,
dark manure of Holsteins, and knobs of your own clustered with oats.
All summer you mowed the grass in meadow and hayfield, the mowing machine
clacketing beside you, while the sun walked high in the morning;

and after noon’s heat, you pulled a clawed rake through the same acres,
gathering stacks, and dragged the wagon from stack to stack,
and the built hayrack back, uphill to the chaffy barn,
three loads of hay a day from standing grass in the morning.

Sundays you trotted the two miles to church with the light load
a leather quartertop buggy, and grazed in the sound of hymns.
Generation on generation, your neck rubbed the windowsill
of the stall, smoothing the wood as the sea smooths glass.

When you were old and lame, when your shoulders hurt bending to graze,
one October the man, who fed you and kept you, and harnessed you every morning,
led you through corn stubble to sandy ground above Eagle Pond,
and dug a hole beside you where you stood shuddering in your skin,

and lay the shotgun’s muzzle in the boneless hollow behind your ear,
and fired the slug into your brain, and felled you into your grave,
shoveling sand to cover you, setting goldenrod upright above you,
where by next summer a dent in the ground made your monument.

For a hundred and fifty years, in the Pasture of dead horses,
roots of pine trees pushed through the pale curves of your ribs,
yellow blossoms flourished above you in autumn, and in winter
frost heaved your bones in the ground – old toilers, soil makers:

O Roger, Mackerel, Riley, Ned, Nellie, Chester, Lady Ghost.

Donald Hall
Born: 20 September 1928, Connecticut, USA
Nationality: American
Died: 23 June 2018, New Hampshire, USA

Hall was a poet, writer, editor, and literary critic. The author of over 50 books across varying genres he was a graduate of Phillips Exeter Academy, Harvard, and Oxford. He was the first poetry editor for The Paris Review and was known for interviewing poets and writers about their craft.

Baby, Don’t Cry

Baby, Don’t Cry
Form: Ivorian Sonnet 95

From outside our bedroom, I heard her cry
As I sat beside her, I asked her why

While I laid my hand softly on her arm
And her body racked out another sob
What had caused my darling this painful harm

In a gulp of breath, her mother had called
How she had failed to live up to their dreams
My heart is breaking I was so appalled
My rage withheld, as I wiped her tear streams

She repeated the words that made me scald
And I let my chest absorb her sad screams
For in this moment that hate cannot rob
Our love; it hurts the same to hear the lie
But in our love, we ease the hurt and harm


Without a Muse (Weekly Prompts Colour Challenge)

Inspired by and written for Weekly Prompts Colour Challenge – thank you Sue and GC

Form: Sonnet Reversii

Heartbreak hotel where my soul sings the Blues
Blues the music to bring me some solace
Solace found in a glass without a muse
Muse, please return to me in this place
Place me in the middle of all those songs
Songs that sting my eyes with the empty tears
Tears cried when nothing is right in the wrong
Wrong place to be to face all the dark fears
Fears that never help to turn on the light
Light locked out of my darkened mind and room
Room to think and room to cry out tonight
Tonight, without you I see only gloom
Gloomy dreams that bring my soul to its ache
Ache, and ache some more, in this my heartbreak


Pietà by Annibale Carracci

Pietà by Annibale Carracci

Oil on canvas
National Museum of Capodimonte, Naples, Italy

One of Carracci’s later works, “Pietà” was created whilst the artist was undertaking a project at the Farnese Gallery in Rome, both under the commission of Cardinal Farnese. Carracci presents the moment that Mary holds her crucified son and on the right angels are mourning Christ’s passing.

Annibale Carracci 1560-1609

Annibale Carracci
Baroque, Mannerism
Born: 3 November 1560, Bologna, Italy
Nationality: Italian
Died: 15 July 1609, Rome, Italy

Carracci was a painter and instructor active in Bologna and then Rome. He was one of the progenitors of a leading strand of Baroque art that borrowed from the styles of both north and south Bologna adding a vital dynamism

Our Struggle is Real

Emanuel Xavier 1970-

Xavier is a Latinx poet, author, spoken word artist, editor, and LGBT+ activist from the Bushwick area of Brooklyn. Once an underage hustler and drug dealer, through surviving hate crime, Xavier emerged from the East Village, Manhattan art scene, the ball culture scene and Nuyorican movement as a successful poet, writer, and advocate for gay youth and Latinx gay literature.

Born in Brooklyn, New York, Xavier’s father abandoned his Ecuadorian mother when he found out she was pregnant. Xavier was also a victim of child abuse by a relative. He grew up in Bushwick during the 1970s when it was mainly an immigrant community. He attended a white elementary school in Queens where he was subject to racism. Xavier was kicked out by his mother at age 16 when he came out as gay and survived as an underage hustler. With strict rules, he returned home and graduated from Grover Cleveland High School before attending St John’s University for several years receiving an associate degree in communications. Xavier worked at an LGBTQ bookstore, A Different Light, where he found his passion for writing and turned his life around.

In 1997 Xavier self-published the chapbook “Pier Queen” and in 1998, with his friend, Willi Ninja, he created the House of Xavier and the Glam Slam, an annual art event held at the Nuyorican Poets Café. The fusion of ball culture and poetry slam featured categories such as Best Erotic Poem in Sexy Underwear or Lingerie, Best Love Poem in Fire Engine Red, and Best Verbal Vogue. In 1999 Xavier’s semi-autobiographical novel “Christ Like” was published by Painted Leaf Press. Despite a limited run, it was nominated for a Lambda Literary award in the Small Press category and was reprinted in 2009 by Rebel Satori Press as a revised 10th-anniversary edition.

Xavier hosted the Lambada Literary Awards in 2001. He was one of the leading forces behind “Words of Comfort,” a poetry benefit held after 9/11. Xavier’s poem “September Song” was included as part of the National September 11 Memorial and Museum website and later appeared in his 2002 poetry collection “Americano”

In the 2000s Xavier appeared twice on Russell Simmons Presents Def Poetry on HBO, he also guest hosted IN The Life on PBS with Laverne Cox. Xavier also appeared in the Wolfgang Busch documentary How Do I Look and co-starred in the film The Ski Trip aired on LOGO. In 2005 Xavier edited the anthology “Bullets & Butterflies: Queer Spoken Word Poetry” and earned a second Lambda Literary Award in the Anthologies category. In 2008 he edited “Mariposas: A Modern Anthology of Queer Latino Poetry.”

In 2017 PEN America invited Xavier to read his poem “Americano” at the Writer’s Resist rally in protest of the Trump administration. Also that year a weeklong exhibit celebrating the 20th anniversary of his collection “Pier Queen” was held.

Xavier was part of the Saks Fifth Avenue Stonewall Inn Gives It Back Initiative in 2019 for the 50th anniversary of the Stonewall Inn riots. Xavier was invited to share his poetry at the United Nations in 2018 as part of The International Symposium on Cultural Diplomacy. He shared a poem about gun control and after the criticism that followed, he was uninvited back as a speaker.

Xavier was attacked by about 20 men in Bushwick, Brooklyn in October 2005. Among the rumours about the attack, some suggested it stemmed from his giving permission to the Latin Kings gang to publish his poem on the subject of police brutality “Waiting for God.” Xavier was diagnosed with an acoustic neuroma following the attack and underwent surgery. The tumour was benign but he suffered partial facial paralysis for a time. In 2015 the neuroma returned and Xavier underwent successful radiosurgery.

The Death of Art by Emanuel Xavier

“Reading well is one of the great pleasures that solitude can afford you.”
-critic Harold Bloom, who first called slam poetry “the death of art.”

I am not a poet. I want to be rich and buy things for my family.
Besides, I am sort of popular and can honestly say I’ve had a great sex life.

I am not a poet. Georgia O’ Keefe paintings do absolutely nothing for me. I do not feel oppressed or depressed and no longer have anything to say about the President.

I am not a poet. I do not like being called an “activist” because it takes away from those that are out on the streets protesting and fighting for our rights.

I am not a poet. I eat poultry and fish and suck way too much dick to be considered a vegetarian.

I am not a poet. I would most likely give my ass up in prison before trying to save it with poetry . . . and I’d like it! Heck, I’d probably be inspired.

I am not a poet. I may value peace but I will not simply use a pen to unleash my anger. I would fuck somebody up if I had to.

I am not a poet. I may have been abused and had a difficult life but I don’t want pity. I believe laughter and love heals.

I am not a poet. I am not dying. I write a lot about AIDS and how it has affected my life but, despite the rumours, I am not positive. Believe it or not, weight loss amongst sexually active gay men could still be a choice.

I am not a poet. I do not get Kerouac or honestly care much for Bukowski.

I am not a poet. I don’t spend my weekends reading and writing. I like to go out and party. I like to have a few cocktails but I do not have a drinking problem regardless of what borough, city or state I may wake up in.

I am not a poet. I don’t need drugs to open up my imagination. I’ve been a dealer and had a really bad habit but that was long before I started writing.

I am not a poet. I can seriously only tolerate about half an hour of spoken word before I start tuning out and thinking about my grocery list or what my cats are up to.

I am not a poet. I only do poetry events if I know there will be cute guys there and I always carry business cards.

I am not a poet according to the scholars and academics and Harold Bloom. I only write to masturbate my mind. After all, fucking yourself is one of the great pleasures that solitude can afford you.

I am not a poet. I am only trying to get attention and convince myself that poetry can save lives when my words simply and proudly contribute to “the death of art.”

Crystals – Citrine

A mineral class of quartz, citrine takes its colour from traces of iron. In its natural form, it has a cloudy or smoky look and is associated with prosperity, joy, and energy.


Citrine is known as the sunshine stone and is often used to shake maudlin moods. In an almost instant effect on our well-being, it empowers both the health and wealth of the mind, body, and spirit.

When our personal vibes are low and sluggish Citrine’s energy acts as a pick-me-up and is used to alleviate fatigue, without setting our natural energy into overdrive Citrine is also used to stimulate a healthy digestive system and some allergies that trigger skin irritation.

Citrine is closely connected to the Solar Plexus Chakra, a chakra that helps us to stay grounded. As such citrine is a powerful tool to ward off negativity and to rebalance ourselves when life is challenging and it feels like we are losing our grip

Affirmation: My mind, body, and spirit are cleansed of negativity and charged with positivity

In love and light
Raven )O(

Breakfast Table

Breakfast Table
Form: Casbairdne

Sitting out at the sunrise
They chatter before first light
And I’ve no doubt they’ll go on
With their natter till the night

Sparrows and blue tits in trees
All sharing their own review
As they sit in my garden
Their chirping becomes my cue

They have made their presence felt
It’s time to bring seeds and nuts
A well-laid breakfast table
A birds’ bounty and no buts

The ravens shimmer in black
Standing back to stay aloof
Their craven heads help up high
Their beauty alone pure proof

Bacon placed upon their plate
And leftovers from my tea
My birds chat on in delight
Before flying away free


To the Triad

A Garret Poet

To the Triad
Form: Italian Sonnet

Thou touched this heart of mine with moonlit song
as I redeemed my soul in love divine,
and sipped thy blood that is the blesséd wine
my pledge, renewed, to serve thee stays strong.
Oh Goddess, Queen of dark and light, I pray
for eyes to see and strength to understand
the path I follow, guided by thy hand,
in thy embrace my spirit comes thy way.
And when I falter, falling on the ground
I hear thy voice calling, yet I know not when
I feel thy love that lifts me up again
to fill my heart with joy and hope profound.
The Goddess, Maiden, Mother of the skies
and Crone of Wisdom, can thee hear my sighs?


Men Loved Wholly Beyond Wisdom by Louise Bogan

Louise Bogan 1897-1970

Men Loved Wholly Beyond Wisdom

Men loved wholly beyond wisdom
Have the staff without the banner.
Like a fire in a dry thicket
Rising within women’s eyes
Is the love men must return.
Heart, so subtle now, and trembling,
What a marvel to be wise.,
To love never in this manner!
To be quiet in the fern
Like a thing gone dead and still,
Listening to the prisoned cricket
Shake its terrible dissembling
Music in the granite hill

Louise Bogan
Born: 11 August 1897, Maine, USA
Nationality: American
Died: 4 February 1970, New York, USA

Bogan was a poet. Appointed the Poet Laureate to the Library of Congress in 1945. she was the first woman to hold the office. Bogan wrote poetry, friction, and criticism and was a regular poetry reviewer for “The New Yorker.”

Tarantella by David Popper

David Popper 1843-1913


David Popper
Born: 16 June 1843, Prague, Czechia
Nationality: Bohemian
Died: 7 August 1913, Baden bei Wien, Austria

Popper was a cellist and composer. Born in Prague he studied music at the Prague Conservatory under Julius Goltermann. Popper made his first tour in 1863 and in Germany, he was praised by Hans von Bülow, who recommended him as Chamber Virtuoso in the Court of Prince von Hohenzollern-Hechinger in Löwenberg

Curry and Jazz

Curry and Jazz
Form: Free Verse

Golden liquor shimmers in the late morning sun
a whiskey before noon
perhaps it’s too soon
but whose to judge but me
as I ponder another evening meal for one
the warm feeling slips through my throat
a subtle reminder of other nights
of cooking lamb curry
eaten by candlelight
soft jazz setting a rhythm
enticing and inviting her and me to our bed
and a warm feeling slipping slowly through my throat
diced lamb and sliced onions
simmer in the slow cooker
spices scenting the air
lingering in my throat –
I’ll freeze the other half


Ticket to Some Place (Weekend Writing Prompt)

Inspired by and written for Weekend Writing Prompt – Thank you, Sammi

Form: Free Verse

automated reactions
the nervous twitch
sparks electric through my nerves
yet hands and words
like wheels spinning
without revelation of feelings
and emotions
making jokes at my own expense
my lips on autopilot
before my thoughts jam the cogs
matter over mind
say never mind it doesn’t matter
as pain erupts in varying explosions
my soul is stranded
on the platform of Heartbreak Station
checking the time for
the next clockwork train
to any destination
anywhere and nowhere in particular
away from here
I no longer care
a ticket to a new destination
some place
away from you

Word Count: 99


Establish (RDP)

Inspired by and written for Ragtag Daily Prompt – my thanks to Sgeoil

Definition: Establish – v. set up on a firm or permanent basis; achieve permanent acceptance or recognition for

Form: Dodoitsu

reputation a base line
building solid foundations
credibility matters
when making a name


Hobbit Hole Witterings – What’s Happening

At the time of writing, we are heading into another bank holiday, so May is nearly over and we will soon be in June. Where do the days go?

The news from the Hobbit Hole desk is despite a massive tech failure that has sent me scatty, I have still been working on a chapbook of poems dedicated to Gabbie. Well, working on means twiddling my thumbs with my pinkies while awaiting the arrival of the proof copy. Am I nervous – no, not really, that would be silly as my old self was a published author.

It has taken a long time to actually grab my balls and do it as Jezzie with so many things having to take priority. Now most of the baggage I didn’t need or want on my life voyage has been gotten rid of so to speak I have been able to focus and get on with writing.

So in the next few days, it should land through the letter box and I can get redlining ready for final copy and release. Watch this space as they say.

Meme of the Week

I love this one. Nailed, nailed, and nailed again. I honestly think it is 50/50 as sometimes I write out my personal screwed-up thinking, other times my writing sets off my screwed-up thinking, and if that all happens at the same time I am not just screwed, I am fucked, and its time to bugger off into nature for a bit.

Old Billy Presents….

Move over thou dankish pox-marked lout, call thyself a writer. Pah! Honestly, good gentlefolk, the idiot thinks he knows about love and its wonder – if he does, he learned it from me. So whilst the wannabe is sat there with an eyebrow raised and flicking his tongue across his teeth it is time for a sonnet, Sonnet 7 to be exact, read beautifully by Sir Patrick Stewart

You never got to read Percy Bysshe Shelley, did ya, Bill?

Sonnet VII

Lo! in the orient when the gracious light
Lifts up his burning head, each under eye
Doth homage to his new-appearing sight,
Serving with looks his sacred majesty;
And having climbed the steep-up heavenly hill,
Resembling strong youth in his middle age,
Yet mortal looks adore his beauty still,
Attending on his golden pilgrimage:
But when from highmost pitch, with weary car,
Like feeble age, he reeleth from the day,
The eyes, ‘fore duteous, now converted are
From his low tract, and look another way:
So thou, thyself outgoing in thy noon
Unlooked on diest unless thou get a son

Thank you, Bill.

Thank you for reading


A Garret Poet

Form: Italian Sonnet

The darkest winter cannot hide Her light,
even when the coldest winds begin to blow
Her love shall shelter me from drifting snow
She is the star to bring my eyes their sight.
It is Her hand that leads me through the night,
and it’s Her kiss that leaves my heart aglow,
as in Her love, my soul has come to know,
it is Her joy that brings me my delight.
Alas my eyes are blinded to Her face
my mortal body imperfectly weak
I wonder if Her beauty is now lost
but still, my saddened heart can feel Her grace,
and now forever I shall always seek
Her joy no matter the personal cost

Mote it be


Sapho by Charles Gounod

Charles Gounod 1818-1893


Charles Gounod
Born: 17 June 1818, Paris, France
Nationality: French
Died: 18 October 1893, Saint-Cloud, France

Gounod was a composer and wrote twelve operas including “Faust” (1859) and “Romeo and Juliet” (1867), both of which remain in the international repertory. Gounod also composed church music, songs, and other shorter pieces. He was a student at the Conservatoire de Paris and won France’s prestigious musical prize, the Prix de Rome. A deeply religious man, Gounod considered the priesthood after his studies


Form: Curtal Sonnet

With a gentle touch to placate the beast
That is ticking time to end silent fear
Of ashen streets lined with ashen faces
The only words those of a praying priest
As the steady hand to the wire draws near
Inside a soldier’s mind shakes in places
What if it is blue instead of the red
But none in the crowd is thinking of that
If he gets it wrong, they will all be dead
All that will remain of him is his hat
It’s red


Penelope’s Song by Louise Glück

Louise Glück 1943-

Penelope’s Song

Little soul, little perpetually undressed one,
Do now as I bid you, climb
The shelf-like branches of the spruce tree;
Wait at the top, attentive, like
A sentry or look-out. He will be home soon;
It behooves you to be
Generous. You have not been completely
Perfect either; with your troublesome body
You have done things you shouldn’t
Discuss in poems. Therefore
Call out to him over the open water, over the bright
With your dark song, with your grasping,
Unnatural song–passionate,
Like Maria Callas. Who
Wouldn’t want you? Whose most demonic appetite
Could you possibly fail to answer? Soon
He will return from wherever he goes in the
Suntanned from his time away, wanting
His grilled chicken. Ah, you must greet him,
You must shake the boughs of the tree
To get his attention,
But carefully, carefully, lest
His beautiful face be marred
By too many falling needles

Louise Glück
Born: 22 April 1943, New York, USA
Nationality: American

Glück is a poet, essayist, and winner of the 2020 Nobel Prize for Literature. While in high school she suffered from anorexia nervosa and later overcame the illness. Often described as autobiographical poet Glück’s work is best known for its emotional intensity and for drawing on mythology or nature to reflect modern life

New York by Henri Cartier-Bresson

New York by Henri Cartier-Bresson

New York
Gelatin Silver Print
Henri Cartier-Bresson Foundation – Paris, France

Cartier-Bresson photographed the taping of a TV game show for “New York.” Relying on the centuries-old trope of a picture within a picture, Cartier-Bresson presents three separate stories in one image. In the foreground, the television represents the viewer at home. On an elevated podium, an emcee describes the contestant’s actions to home viewers and the studio audience. On the stage are three men that can only be seen by the studio audience. In these multiple layers of perspective, Cartier-Bresson emphasizes the capacity of the camera to manipulate the viewer creating varying versions of the truth.

Henri Cartier-Bresson 1908-2004

Henri Cartier-Bresson
Modern Photography, Straight Photography, Photojournalism, Documentary Photography
Born: 22 August 1908, Chantelop-en-Brie, France
Nationality: French
Died: 3 August 2004, Montjustin, France

Cartier-Bresson was an artist and humanist photographer renowned for his candid photography and as an early user of 35mm film. A pioneer of Street Photography Cartier-Bresson viewed photography as capturing a decisive moment

Landslide by Fleetwood Mac

Fleetwood Mac

Album: Fleetwood Mac
Date: 1975
Genre: Rock
Artist: Fleetwood Mac

Fleetwood Mac are a rock band, formed in London, UK, in 1967 by guitarists and vocalists Peter Green and Jeremy Spencer and drummer Mick Fleetwood. They were joined by bassist John McVie and guitarist Danny Kirwan in 1968. Christine Perfect was a session musician for the band’s second album. She married McVie and joined the band in 1970 as Christine McVie, Stevie Nicks, and Lindsey Buckingham joined the band in 1974, replacing Green, Spencer, and Kirwan

Colourblind (WOTDC)

Inspired by and written for the Word of the Day Challenge – my thanks to Cyranny

Definition: Colourblind – adj. unable to distinguish certain colours, or (rarely in humans) any colours at all; not prejudiced, discriminating, or distinguishing on the basis of skin colour or race

Form: Lune

all blood runs in red
first aider
don’t see shades of skin


Daily Jezzical

“Try too hard to help and support her, and she’ll treat you like a daddy”

I think this goes both ways, and there are people who see love as meaning you sacrificing everything so they can have what they want. Remember I matter too – remember that Jezzie

Oh Very Young by Cat Stevens/Yusuf

Cat Stevens/Yusuf

Oh Very Young
Album: Buddha and the Chocolate Box
Date: 1974
Genre: Folk-pop
Artist: Cat Stevens/Yusuf

Cat Stevens is a singer, songwriter, and multi-instrumentalist. His style consists of pop, folk, rock, and Islamic music. He converted to Islam in 1977 and, auctioning all his guitars for charity, left his musical career to pursue educational and philanthropic causes in the Muslim community. In 2006, Cat Stevens returned to music releasing his first album in 28 years using the stage name Yusuf as a mononym

Sestina Notes

Considered a difficult form to master, the Sestina was created by Arnaut Daniel, a mathematician, and poet in the twelfth century. It was later adopted by Francesco Petrarch who composed a series of sestinas he called Canzone.

The sestina is composed of seven stanzas. The first six stanzas each have six lines, with end-word of each line falling in a precise mathematical progression. The seventh has only three lines which are a mathematical reflection of the first stanza.

The first stanza defines the following stanzas by setting the words used at the end of each line, ABDCEF are the defining words. They are repeated in the following five stanzas in the following pattern


The final stanza or envoy uses the same six-word but only in three lines with the even-numbered words descending internally and the odd-numbered words ascending on the outside to give the following pattern



Sestina by Elizabeth Bishop

September rain falls on the house.
In the failing light, the old grandmother
sits in the kitchen with the child
beside the Little Marvel Stove,
reading the jokes from the almanac,
laughing and talking to hide her tears.

She thinks that her equinoctial tears
and the rain that beats on the roof of the house
were both foretold by the almanac,
but only known to a grandmother.
The iron kettle sings on the stove.
She cuts some bread and says to the child,

It’s time for tea now; but the child
is watching the teakettle’s small hard tears
dance like mad on the hot black stove,
the way the rain must dance on the house.
Tidying up, the old grandmother
hangs up the clever almanac

on its string. Birdlike, the almanac
hovers half open above the child,
hovers above the old grandmother
and her teacup full of dark brown tears.
She shivers and says she thinks the house
feels chilly, and puts more wood in the stove.

It was to be, says the Marvel Stove.
I know what I know, says the almanac.
With crayons the child draws a rigid house
and a winding pathway. Then the child
puts in a man with buttons like tears
and shows it proudly to the grandmother.

But secretly, while the grandmother
busies herself about the stove,
the little moons fall down like tears
from between the pages of the almanac
into the flower bed the child
has carefully placed in the front of the house.

Time to plant tears, says the almanac.
The grandmother sings to the marvelous stove
and the child draws another inscrutable house

The Big Mistake

The Big Mistake
Form: Microfiction

Felipe stood by an apple tree in the Castell’s orchard. His dark eyes wistfully watched the villagers go about their evening.

Felipe remembered when Magicals and Timeshifters were the only beings in existence. Men and women like himself and Esteban – making it all work. Where had it all gone wrong?

Sex! Breeding with one’s own kind kept things balanced. The earth was happy. Them some randy Magical thought shagging a Timeshifter would be a promising idea. The result is a half-breed devoid of the powers of either species. They weren’t immortal so didn’t care about the earth in 80 years’ time.

Sex, Magicals, and Timeshifters was a disaster.


Sappho by Julia Margaret Cameron

Sappho by Julia Margaret Cameron

Albumen Print from wet collodion
Victoria and Albert Museum, London, UK

Modelled by Mary Hiller, “Sappho” wears an embroidered dress and a necklace of antique-style coins. Her hair is loosely tied and flows down her back in a style typical of the Pre-Raphaelites. A blurred background of vines on a wall softly contours Sappho’s face. Her hand is slouched over a lyre symbolistic of lyric poetry and connection to Apollo. Sappho is hailed by Plato as the tenth Muse.

Julia Margaret Cameron 1815-1879

Julia Margaret Cameron
The Pre-Raphaelites, Pictorialism
Born: 11 June 1815, Calcutta, British India
Nationality: British
Died: 26 January 1879, Kalutara, British Ceylon

Cameron was a photographer is one of the most important portraitists of the 19th century. She is best known for her use of soft-focus close-ups of famous Victorian men and women, illustrative pictures depicting characters from mythology, Christianity, and literature, and sensitive portraits of both adults and children

Snapshot of Desire

Snapshot of Desire
Form: Free Verse

My eyes captured a brief moment of your desire
forbidding my heart not to love you
and having seen that moment
how could I not
when to be with you is all I crave
without pressure or coercing words
nor matchmakers setting it up
at that moment, my heart was enslaved

Yet your gentle hand refuses me
waving its intent I should go away
I don’t understand, confused by your grip
with no want to set me free
and in your holding me
you know I am at your command

I feel the tenderness of your touch
demanding I leave my solitude
to clutch at the dreams
while they’re creating my want for you
in my confusion, I don’t know what I should do
as your lips whisper “Go away!”

Should I call your bluff and leave?
would you stop me with words: “Please don’t”
would you command me to make that vow
in a lover’s kiss
as acceptance of your possession of my soul


By celebrating the seasons and the moon…



“By celebrating the seasons and the moons, we are calling back the ancient language of initiation. As we connect to the ebbs and flows of the seasonal patterns of the year, we may discover an answer to a question we didn’t know we had, accessing hidden dimensions of wisdom longing to awaken once more.”

Kristen Roderick,

Artwork by Sarah Partington





Text and image source: The Spirit that moves me

View original post

Sunday Sonnet – The pillar perished by Sir Thomas Wyatt

Thomas Wyatt 1503-1542

The pillar perished

The pillar perished is whereto I lent,
The strongest stay of mine unquiet mind;
The like of it no man again can find
From east to west still seeking though he went.
To mine unhap! for hap away hath rent
Of all my joy the very bark and rind;
And I, alas, by chance am thus assigned
Dearly to mourn till death do it relent.
But since that thus it is by destiny,
What can I more but have a woeful heart,
My pen in plaint, my voice in woeful cry,
My mind in woe, my body full of smart,
And I myself myself always to hate
Till dreadful death do ease my doleful state?

Rabarbra by Nikolai Astrup

Rabarbra by Nikolai Astrup

Oil on Canvas
The Savings Bank Foundation / KODE

“Rabarbra” was painted late in Astrup’s career and depicts a woman stooped over gathering rhubarb while a child plays in the dirt. Beyond the figures, there are blossoming cherry trees. “Rabarbra” is one of several of the artist’s later works to feature the garden of his family home in Sandalstrand. Astrup and his wife, Engel, had built up the property from a few dilapidated structures creating their home and a working farm where they and their eight children could live off the land.

Nikolai Astrup 1880-1928

Nikolai Astrup
Born: 30 August 1880, Bremanger, Norway
Nationality: Norwegian
Died: 21 January 1928, Førde, Norway

Astrup was a modernist painter with a distinctive and innovative style noted for its intense use of colour depicting the landscapes of Vestlandet and the traditional way of life in the region

Requiem, Op. 66 by David Popper

David Popper 1843-1913

Requiem, Op. 66

David Popper
Born: 16 June 1843, Prague, Czechia
Nationality: Bohemian
Died: 7 August 1913, Baden bei Wien, Austria

Popper was a cellist and composer. Born in Prague he studied music at the Prague Conservatory under Julius Goltermann. Popper made his first tour in 1863 and in Germany, he was praised by Hans von Bülow, who recommended him as Chamber Virtuoso in the Court of Prince von Hohenzollern-Hechinger in Löwenberg