NaPoWriMo #19 #20 #21

Another NaPoWriMo hiatus because of three more performances of the play that I am currently in, Moliere’s Tartuffe, which I have to say is going very well with very appreciative audiences.

In order to make up for the missing days I will endeavour once more to create three more haikus, and, in light of the much improved weather and subsequent blossom and budburst, these will appropriately be on the theme of Nature.

Westalls riding Oct08 108

Silvered symmetry

Hidden predator awaits

In alluring snare


Hot Summer Day 011

Nature’s randomness

Brought into line. Beauty lost

To new perspective.


News report: ‘Highest April Temperature on Record’

Midwinter changes

In the middle of one week

Into midsummer


NaPoWriMo #18

I spent a lot of time today in the much overdue sunshine.  Hard to imagine that just a few weeks ago we were looking at the snow falling, blown in by the ‘Beast from the East’. Now we have the benefit of the southerly breezes bringing the Mediterranean warm air. Tennis was the order of the day for the morning and I just wish I had worn my shorts.  Still, this is meant to continue right into next weekend.

But, a poem is required. I’ve attempted a triple haiku acrostic (sounds like an ice skating move!).


See the light of dawn

Urging the morning forward

Nurturing new growth


Sitting on mown grass

Hearing birdsong in the trees

I can breathe the Spring


Night descends swiftly

Evening air warm with sound

Stars adorn the sky


NaPoWriMo #17

I pulled a photo taken some years ago from my archives in order to give me a prompt for today’s poem.

Malta May 2009 042

Angular Momentum

Tinged with a russet shimmer,

the Sun descends to this day’s end,

secure that its steady solar spin

will continue far beyond

our brief existence and begin

again its rise and fall.


A silhouette of steel endeavours

to embrace its majesty and grace,

as dusk brushes up

the dying darkling rays.


NaPoWriMo #16

Sept. 2008 018


She waits to the side

of those giant open portals,

out of sight of the stained glass;

its gleam of colour perhaps frightens.

Perhaps her faith forbids

her entering, so instead she sits

in the hope that charity

will emerge from prayer.


NaPoWriMo #13, 14, 15

Oops! Missed a few days but I have the excuse of having done three performances of Tartuffe with the local drama group. There is now a break of a few days before three more performances next week.  So, on with the poetry challenge.

Of course, Friday was 13th with all the superstitions that surround the date.


The black cat that I saw

I wasn’t too sure

was meant to bring bad luck or good.

The ladder I walked under

might have caused the loud thunder

and the eventual downpour and flood.

And the result of my folly

was the fact that my brolly

was at home – WIDE OPEN –

oh good!!


And a haiku to celebrate the long-awaited sunshine.

Rays raise shoots and smiles

Ground breaking, breathing warm air

Brightness brings beauty.


I haven’t done a limerick for a while:-


April had brought so much rain

That it choked every gutter and drain

Acute saturation

Inundated the nation

And  I don’t want to see it again!




NaPoWriMo #12 : The Mist Persists

I don’t always refer to the daily prompt for poetic inspiration and, having taken a look at the one for today, which is to create a haibun, I realise that my poem #11 could be described as one.  With a little more time to devote to writing today than I had yesterday I shall try to compose something similar.


In the morning mist

A jackdaw prises larvae

From the dewy lawn


Fog persists as a ghost masking the Spring sun. Greasing streets and clamming the waiting buds and blossoms. Its presence suppresses sound and mood, reducing all to muted gloom. Trees are barely stirred in air without movement. Leaves hang damp or drip, drooped in a sad surrender to this all-pervading miasma. I walk across the trembled grass verges, my breath in clouds, adding to the atmosphere. My collar ought not be pulled so high this time of year, but the chill insists.

20180412_113157 (2)

NaPoWriMo #11

This morning the mist rolled

Wraith-like, damp gripping

The ground with grass spread wet

Beneath the windless air.  Sun is stifled,

Muffled by the endless miasma

Of  gloom. There is no room

For the Sun’s rays to eke out

Even a wrinkle of warmth.

May may be better. Maybe…