Remembering Footsteps

Image Credit: Anja Partin
Image Credit: Anja Partin

The grass soft and prickly, running along train tracks. Soaring on two wheels, falling through the cracks. Sunlight peaks through leaves, piercing outer shells. Delightful squeals of laughter, spontaneous tales of old. Muted dusk the day after, quiet soles fall on the porch. Snuggle into bed, tucked tight;sweet dreams my child, sleep well, goodnight.

cries the depths of night
where young footprints left their mark –
Tenderness e’er lives

Written for Haibun Thinking in response to the Art Prompt by Anja Partin. The prompt reminded me of my childhood memories. As a child my mum would take my brothers and I out to play at the park and I remember her telling us stories before bed and her sitting on the front porch on summer nights enjoying a port with my aunty as my brothers, cousins and I would ride our bikes up and down the streets.

Stop and Listen


Image Credit: Unknown
Image Credit: Unknown


Simply hanging there, suspended in mid-air; gently swaying from side-to-side, ever-so-slightly.  Delicate hints of summer break through early-winter eves, beguiling me; a biting autumnal warmth.  Chimes tinkle, streams from the vault of heaven flit amidst fine mesh; detailed threadwork laid bare.  A child’s song plays round and round, rising and falling as time abounds.  And then… everything stops.


a frozen moment

bright lights shine in winter-time –

kindle childlike ways



 Written for Haibun Thinking Week 8 Challenge and Moi’s weekly challenge ‘Once More With Feeling’ #5.



Ode to Patient Endurance


In mourning light I greet the child within a heart’s lost chamber

there reigns a mist of youthfulness beneath those years of slumber.

I will not let you snatch away sweet breath of tender eras

you cannot take our youth away nor slay its timeless auras.


Perchance I sit on feeble knees and break your will forever

and thrust you down to hades where all remorse unsaid I gather

what will you do small child of mine to reap that yearned-for solace

how will you fly from time to time and raise that deadened promise?


In quietude it cannot speak by fear inert ‘tis rendered

in many ways it knew its fate before its dawn was tethered.

Now looking back on roads well-trod nostalgia looms above her

in desperate straits her spirit seeks a long-lost ardent river.


As blood-drops quench her fingertips, as broken bones cry terror

when all strength fails, when reason stops, when famine stalks a beggar

then supple clay does e’er become a form of untold beauty

completed promise unexpected wrought by hand almighty.


Then age-old comeliness appears like dayspring in the winter

spontaneous child-like innocence does whelm my every member.

Darkness’ hidden myst’ry, exposed by notes of birds awoken

a trace of gold sneaks through the mist, the gates of hades are broken.




Written for PTWWW “Be Inspired” Weekly writing challenge #14 which was to write an Ode (although mine is still a work-in-progress, each current verse will state the theme for each part of the ode, which explains why the ideas don’t exactly flow).


The form I chose for my Ode was a Cretan (Greek) form called ‘mantinada’.  A mantinada consists of rhyming couplets which are composed in dekapendasyllabos (i.e. 15 syllables in iambic metre), with the theme being either love or satire.



Falling for Wide-Eyed Credulity

Sweet smile streaks through blue
fresh and light, playing youth.
Standing afar, bearing hands helpless –
an observer of the unlikely.

Fresh light, playing youth
takes her by the hand to
an observer of the unlikely,
feeble-minded Miss.

Take her by the hand, to
escape from such a
feeble-mind and miss
not the stabbing pains.

She’d escape from such an
image readily bought, were it
not for the stabbing pains
Yet still, sweet smile streaks through blue.

Written for PTWWW Be Inspired Challenge #10