Monthly Archives: August 2018

Crown of Petals ~ A Haiku

dressed is she in thorns
a crown of crimson petals
encircles her head


For Haiku Horizons, Prompt Word: Crown.

Hero – A Haiku

humble selflessness
distinguishes true heroes
from boastful cowards


For Ronovan Writes Poetry Prompt Challenge: Hero & Coward.

Journey – Manic Mondays


love with its passion will fly by,
tail lights in the night and the
questions, the waiting, the secret
burn, the pain, won’t stop
love is the red-eyed, fevered
hum of longing, knowing, still
expecting, sensing, when
there is no turning back
there is no turning back


For Manic Monday’s Three-Way Prompt Challenge: Word: Journey/Photo/Song: Big Log by Robert Plant.

Big Log 

My love is in league with the freeway
Its passion will ride, as the cities fly by
And the tail-lights dissolve, in the coming of night
And the questions in thousands take flight
My love is the miles and the waiting
The eyes that just stare, and the glance at the clock
And the secret that burns, and the pain that won’t stop
And its fuel is the years
Leading me on – leading me down the road
Driving beyond
Driving me down the road
My love is exceeding the limit
Red-eyed and fevered with the hum of the miles
Distance and longing, my thoughts do collide
Should I rest for a while at the side
Your love is cradled in knowing
Eyes in the mirror, still expecting they’ll come
Sensing too well when the journey is done
There is no turning back
There is no turning back
On the run
My love is in league with the freeway
Oh the freeway, and
The coming of night-time
My love
My love is in league with the freeway

August – Stanzas 26-27

Two stanzas today. Yesterday was spent on the road.

nation against nation, a story oft’ repeated
humanity’s a mean, contentious breed driven
by more than basic need, avarice and greed
power is a vile, demanding mistress, irresistible
to those who dare dip from her shallow well

well-spring of life, informing cells that make me, me
eyes of blue, hair, curly blond, pale skin easily burned
my ancestors, from northern climes they came, Vikings,
Ottar, Eystein, Egil, Aun, their names, barbarians
from icy shores, the Nordic Swedes and Danes


For Jane Dougherty’s August Stanza Challenge.

From Wikipedia, a story about Aun, of the Yngling Dynasty, King of Uppsala…and allegedly, if the tree leaves on are correct, my 49th Great Grandfather. Aun was a horrible man, a terrible father who was sick with power….

Ruling from his seat in Uppsala, Aun was reputedly a wise king who made sacrifices to the gods. However, he was not of a warlike disposition and preferred to live in peace. He was attacked and defeated by the Danish prince Halfdan. Aun fled to the Geats in Västergötland, where he stayed for 25 years until Halfdan died in his bed in Uppsala.

Upon Halfdan’s death Aun returned to Uppsala. Aun was now 60 years old, and in an attempt to live longer he sacrificed his son to Odin, who had promised that this would mean he would live for another 60 years. After 25 years, Aun was attacked by Halfdan‘s cousin Ale the Strong. Aun lost several battles and had to flee a second time to Västergötland. Ale the Strong ruled in Uppsala for 25 years until he was killed by Starkad the old.

After Ale the Strong’s death, Aun once again returned to Uppsala and once again sacrificed a son to Odin; this time Odin told the king that he would remain living as long as he sacrificed a son every ten years and that he had to name one of the Swedish provinces after the number of sons he sacrificed.

When Aun had sacrificed a son for the seventh time, he was so old that he could not walk but had to be carried on a chair. When he had sacrificed a son for the eighth time, he could no longer get out of his bed. When he had sacrificed his ninth son, he was so old that he had to feed, like a little child, by suckling on a horn.

After ten years he wanted to sacrifice his tenth and last son and name the province of Uppsala The Ten Lands. However, the Swedes refused to allow him to make this sacrifice and so he died. He was buried in a mound at Uppsala and succeeded by his last son Egil. From that day, dying in bed of old age was called Aun’s sickness.

an empty nester’s CHARADE – A Cleave Poem

For Mind Love Misery’s Menagerie Sunday Writing prompt: “From one place to another – A argument that goes back and forward.”

Today’s challenge is the perfect setting for a cleave poem. you know the rules: read the FIRST COLUMN FIRST, then the second, then ALL THE / way across.

an empty nester’s CHARADE

I AM FIERCE / i am terrified
AN INDEPENDENT WOMAN / of dying alone
I DON’T NEED ANYONE / that you will forget
I AM A SURVIVOR / i existed
LIFE’S CHALLENGES / most importantly
I’VE OVERCOME EACH ONE / i am afraid
I’M A WINNER / you don’t believe
I’M MAKING A MARK / you were the best part
LEAVING A LEGACY / the biggest thing i ever did
FOR FUTURE GENERATIONS / i have loved you fiercely
REMEMBER ME / more than life itself


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