Thursday, October 19, 2017


Mischievious Fox
Spotted a box
Which stirred his curious mind
A quaint parcel
Doused in sparkles
With string and ribbons twined
A flash of red,
A hurried tread,
He checked what t'was in kind
Nosy old Fox
Opened the box;
Greed made him almost blind
Soon, he had dreams
Could feel, it seems,
Gold, jewels for him designed
For a present,
Surely he was to find
But in the box
Poor silly Fox
Lay nothing of the kind
A jack sprung out
Scaring, no doubt,
Fox right out of his mind
Along the glen
Back to his den
Leaving his pride behind
(Such wretched box!)
A frightened Fox
Would now avoid mankind.
This all started a few weeks ago, when I threw a few words on the screen. Fox, Box.... Maybe because, during one of my walks, I saw a flash of red, the tip of a white bushy tail?
But it didn't match any prompts, and I had plenty of material to work on the other ones.
And then, today, as if on purpose, OctPoWriMo's prompt was "Fox or Foxy"
So I played a little bit. I had fun (a nice change from all these heavy poems from the last few days!). I hope you enjoy reading it too!

Wednesday, October 18, 2017


T'was a regular family dinner

My least favourite uncle was there

The long meal was almost over

Time for coffee cups and dessertware


The discussion soon had turned

To politics and adult things

With voices now sounding concerned

About what the future may bring


I'd always been old for my years

And enjoyed deep conversation

So I stayed there, opened my ears

Taking part in the discussion


I don't remember the subject

But this time, I uttered through tears

"All those who suicide elect,

I think I understand their fears."


These were strong words for a young mouth,

But nobody seemed to hear them

The arguments went back and forth

And I, alone, was feeling numb.


They simply kept on talking

As if I hadn't been there

Nobody had been listening

To my overwhelming despair.


I am not sure what happened then

I think I got up in a haze;

I never voiced that fear again

For no one cared for my malaise


Today's OctPoWriMo's prompt was "Everyone went on eating". Well, for me, the meal was almost over, but this is the incident that came to mind.

I know that if a teen of mine were to utter these words, I would certainly pick up on it and ask them about it in a private setting. I wouldn't just let it go and dismiss it as non-sense, or unimportant.

I guess I'm healing from that wound, as writing it didn't make me cry, but the tears are pooling just there, on the rim of my eyelids, like they did back then.

Tuesday, October 17, 2017

Hooray, Hooray!

Two days ago to m' Love I said
"When do you come and visit me?
I'd love to have you in my bed,
Even more if you'd sleep with me."
He's coming to see me, you hear?
Hooray, hooray
And he'll even sleep the night here
Hooray, hooray!
His reply came quick as an arrow
"I am not free tonight, he said,
But I can come by tomorrow
And I'll spend the night in your bed"
He's coming to see me, you hear?
Hooray, hooray
And he'll even sleep the night here
Hooray, hooray!
He even added right away
"Or the night after, you decide
I'm free for you on either day
By your preference I shall abide."
He's coming to see me, you hear?
Hooray, hooray
And he'll even sleep the night here
Hooray, hooray!
So let me go and get ready
My Love to welcome in my bed
The news he's staying makes me heady
I'm so glad for my desre I pled!
He's coming to see me, you hear?
Hooray, hooray
And he'll even sleep the night here
Hooray, hooray!
Ok, I'm sort of getting late to go fetch him, so please forgive me for the quick postface. 
Otherwise, OctPoWriMo day 17 was just not going to happen today!

Monday, October 16, 2017

Telling my story

 OctPoWiMo's prompt for day 16 (yes' we've been through half of it already!) was "Losing your fears and tears".
It seems they are intent on getting me exhausted with finding my way, these poets who write the prompts! Every day almost, I feel like it needs me digging, hard, into those painul spots in my heart, in my soul.
Hopefully, this all helps me loosen those dark threads and find my voice :)

Today's prompt reminded me of this quote 

Telling my story
(Or is it stories?)
Is like living them
All over again
The hung up feelings
The raw emotions
Come to the surface
Demand to be faced
It's a hard deed, though,
Looking at sorrow
And what brought it up
Inner soul clean-up
This is the role of tears
Washing away our fears
Tearing memories apart
That are stuck in our hearts
At first, the words hurt
They come out in blurts
Mixed with sobs and sighs
Wailing and loud cries
Then, slowly at times,
We unravel lines
Of thoughts, false beliefs,
Hoping to find relief
When skies get clearer
Darkened threads looser,
Oftentimes we find
The words that unbind
All of a sudden
We gain our freedom
From weighty silence,
Stand in defiance
Of our deepest fears
Washed away by our tears.
Having found our words
Our voice can be heard
And after much time
We break through the slime
That kept us bound,
Stuck to the ground;
We can fly
Reach the sky;
We are free

Sunday, October 15, 2017

OctPoWriMo day 15 Liquids

The first thing that came to mind when I read today's prompt was this poem, written in April.

Then I was reminded of my late night excursion with my Lover and wrote a very different poem, one indeed based on a POSITIVE trigger.

But I don't think it is suitable for publication on Morgan's website, so if you want to read it, you'll have to ask me via email at dawnsnights @ gmail . com (just remove the spaces).

Otherwise, enjoy this poem. Well, not sure enjoying is the proper word. It's a bit gross!

Tip... top... tip... top...
I watched as the drops formed on the overhead shower
Round at first
Then taking this telltale elongated shape 
I love the peaceful sound of water droplets
As they softly hit the ground.
I'd felt a gush of warm liquid 
Running down my leg. 
I wasn't expecting it,
But I had no time to worry about it. 
And it wasn't that unpleasant,
Some people even enjoy the experience:
Golden showers are a kink for some,
A mixture of submission and trust
Even of humiliation perhaps?
The reason I couldn't worry about it?
I was too focused on not splashing
The liquid coming out of my mouth in big spurts
Ejecting the little broth and vermicelli 
I'd just tried to eat. 
That and the medications I had just taken
(With food, it said on the box).
Everytime my stomach contracted,
More pee would pool under my knee
It happens to us older women, 
When we've had too many children, 
And we cough or laugh too hard. 
Or vomit, apparently. 
The liquid coming back up had an acidic taste
That burnt my ailing throat. 
Just what I needed. 
The taste of it made my stomach clench
And caused new eruptions
Until finally,
Stomach empty, 
I could get up. 
Now I'm sure you understand better
Just how peaceful it felt
To watch those perfect water droplets
Form on the overhead shower. 
And how blissful it was
Feeling more warm liquid running along my legs
But cleansing my skin this time
Not just my insides.


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