“New friends, like one’s best coat and patent-leather boots, are only intended for holiday wear. At other times they are neither serviceable nor comfortable; they do not answer the required purposes, are ill adapted to give us the ease we seek. A new coat, however, has this advantage, that in time it will become old and comfortable; so much can by no means be predicted with certainty of a new friend.”

Anthony Trollope

awkward puzzle piece

coat-stand awaits finishing –

putty in the cracks


Written for Heeding Haiku With HA: Friendship.  My best friendships started a little clunky, but now our they have acquired the familiarity of an old coat – we fit just right.  Oh, the putty bit refers to the fact that, although it may appear to be a minor detail at times, it fills and adds to the final product. 

(untitled #1)


Starry Night – Van Gogh

The waves rushed over my corpse, thrusting me to the ocean floor; suffocating me, tearing at my lungs. The sun that bathed me not long ago, seemed to hide its face before the persistent night-tide as I choked in my own tears. Swaddled in darkness I lost sight of the ‘little loves’ and my heart softly floated away; into forgetfulness. The tips of my fingers bled blue, as my body, weighed down, settled on the sandy earth. I quietly slipped beneath the watery sheets hoping to sleep that day away, every day…

Little stars peek through curtains dark. Their sparkle breaks through the watery surface, carving a break in the waves; calling to me. A force majestic, filled and overflowing, overthrows the swells, lifting me to the surface, though I barely noticed its touch. As the air fills my lungs once more, a warm gentle breeze caresses me, lovingly. The sun is still there.

forgetful world sleeps
merciless waves rise and fall –
sun ever present


Written for Haibun Thinking.


Living Tapestry



rain drops stir from sleep

colours divers weave and sing –

making room for all



Written for Heeding Haiku with Ha – A Haiku Moment. The prompt is to listen to the music, feel what it has to say to you and then write a haiku. Listening to this piece I could hear the distinct sound of both instruments and yet they came together beautifully and seamlessly. The harp reminded me of raindrops falling on dusty, lonely ground. In the eye of my mind, the voice of the violin was like streams of bright colours weaving through the air and the trees. The idea captured In the haiku is that although we are all unique, we have the potential to come together as a seamless whole, in a place where everyone belongs, both great and small. In doing so, we arise from our bed of idleness and despondency, because we realise that we are in fact not alone.


On the Platform


Image Credit: Angela Elliot
Image Credit: Angela Elliot


Little girl waiting
For the train to come
For the rain that rumbles
Fallen clouds that strum:

“Destination ‘Hoped For’
So very far from sight
Train tracks sure to take you
Disappear, take flight.

How will you ever get there
To that place of joy
That you forever dream of
In sleep and wake so coy?”

Looks she here
Looks she there
To the sky
She throws a prayer.

Down below in Hades’ delight
Deception grants a case
As empty as it’s promises
With lies and dirt does lace:

“Try so hard to look your best
Trains take none but the lovely
Do not miss it, it comes but once,
 Or you’ll be ever lonely.”

A tear drops down, the air is thin
A horn sounds from afar
The train passed by ’cause she missed-took
a black hole for a star.



Written for Photo Challenge #23 “Lunchbox” .





no strings attached
yet sought for incessantly –
home is everywhere



 Written for Heeding Haiku with HA: Write/Right Now! The challenge was to write a Haiku/Tanka commemorating the few moments of these days of your life. If you’d like to participate, just follow the link 🙂


A friend recently gave me a poem of hers to ‘repurpose’, effectively making it my own; a challenging and inspiring exercise. I am grateful for the opportunity she has given me to tinker with her poem and am honoured that she would grant me the opportunity to refashion one of her creations. My friend’s poem is followed by mine:


The poetry of a heavy heart
When every little dream and wish hidden and every hope blown apart.
Brings us to the ground, to stand as we are.

Staring into the mirror, see the girl that once stood apart.
Yes, I see the eyes of who was once smart.

A gentle smile punctuates an old reflection …
Someone who once stood
With tender perfection.

Their Heart on their sleeve.
Unmoved by the eyes.
Felt deeply wounded by their reproaches
Born a Queen of holding onto their lies.

Do you like who you see?
No, she whispers, set me free …

By V

The poetry of a heart renewed
When every little dream and wish hidden and every hope blown apart
brings us to the ground to stand as we are

Looking into the mirror, you, who once stood alone
Yes, I see the eyes that oft-times passed for stone

A gentle smile kindles reflections spent;
someone who once stood
with fear before dissent

Her spirit set free,
unmoved by oppressive eyes,
wounded by their suffering
soothing fading cries

Do you like who you see?
Yes, she whispers, they are me…





Billows of sacred voices hanging in the air, like dew-drops sweet

Embrace in every face the spark which is its own

Altogether unique in colour, making its mark on the world.

Ubiquitous tone, overlooked for the sake of pretty silky layers –

Turning about, biding your time –

Yearn yet to be seen; time to sound!


Billows embrace, altogether ubiquitous, turning – Yearn.



This poem was written as part of my workplace training…  Who would have thought!  The task was to write a poem about beauty, using the letters of the word beauty as the first letter of each line.