Hour Eleven ~ Four Jesters Jumped

Write a poem about laughter without ever using the words, laugh, laughter, or giggle.

Four jesters jumped in
the center of the circus ring
audience smiled and clapped-
greeted them with joy and grins.

Delighted peals revealedchildren’s teeth
as loud cheers rang out with joyful tweets
colorful baggy pants, red noses comic poses
mirrored hysterical squeaks in the stands,

with merriment shrill cackling spread around
as jesters danced, round and round, bodies bent
doubled heads down, falling back holding seams
filled the tent with demonic screams.

Sheer fun was at its peak,raising
cries of excitement from every seat

Hour Ten ~ Sober Simian ~

Personify an animal. Switch its trait. Example: a disinterested lion, a polite gorilla, an aggressive giraffe…” – Contributed by John Dutton


I belong to the group called Simians
My family is commonly known as Monkeys
I assure you I am the sober and serious type
I hate mischief and totally dislike disturbance

I stay far away from cans of drink, unlike the
velvet greens , who run away with them. Pranky!
I climb trees but slowly and avoid loose swinging
swooping rolling and even looking for lice in the skin

I am a dejected animal when I am caught, I wish
I could break the chain and run away, not dance-
to the beat of the tapping drum, wearing a skirt
I am orderly and well mannered.Who says I ransack?

Hour Nine Prompt ~ Food Item from Cupboard ~ Hot Cross Buns

Looking in the cupboard I found a bakery item:
a packet of buns.

Many poems did we sing in kinder garten
Mrs Ronken our teacer was an amazing Lady
many rhymes we sang and played with-too,
favorite was “Hot Cross Buns” one or two a penny,

our trip to grandfather’s, was never without buns
father would ask my sister and me,to sing the rhyme
as the jeep moved, we sang in harmony perfectly
and crossed our small arms on our hearts, sacredly.

The trips were fun, and hot and tasty were the buns
I owe gratitude to my childhood teachers,the nuns,
who taught me the poems rhymes, and games,
as we enjoyed the buns, the journey soon was done

Prompt for the Eight Hour ~ New Poetic Form Gigan ~ Seek the Hidden Night of Power

Seek the hidden night of power, the priceless key,
consult not, the fragile worldly , A La Carte-

gather, cut and mix fruit for the evening “Iftari”.
No CLT or club sandwich, just a fine canapé,
spicy seekh kebabs, dates, ketchup and chutney,

Seek the hidden night of power, the priceless key.
Dawn to dusk, spiritual cuisine in tranquility,

chiffonade of patience, forgiveness, full charity,
-gather, cut and mix fruit for the evening “Iftari”.

Counted days, uncounted endless bounty,
seek the hidden night of power, the priceless key

seek the hidden night of power, the priceless key.
The fasting immersed in fragrance, grand in beauty,
cleansed souls, soft hearts, need no coring in glory,

Fasting is acceptance, surrender to divinity,
embracing contentment accomplishment and duty

Prompt for Seventh Hour ~ Image ~ Whose Bench is This ?

If I could find and reach
an old wooden bench
in a garden peaceful
or by a silent empty
roadside lined shaded
with shady Çinar
and I could feel safe
in lonely comfort-

Whose bench is this?
who placed it here?
who was so kind?
who cared for the old?
Someone knows the truth
and that is true love-
True to the oath and promise
the only way to peace
in the heart and soul.

Now that I have found
would I be able to
sit awhile
awaiting the
closure of my laden eyes
with peace in my soul-?

After for long awake on foamy floor
fearing the crashing of the door
with all the floods storms
and earthquakes I know-
the Beast is somewhere near
and so
I cannot think of sleeping

am I awake to the Truth?
Could someone tell me

how on an old wooden bench
does one really find enlightenment
love and peace- is this the place
for the real awakening?
The place of eternal peace.?

Prompt for Sixth Hour~Write a letter to yourself ~ Dear A

Dear A
This is belated but never out of my heart.
I was overjoyed to see you in class,
as my student,though you were three years senior to me in college.
I would remember you often because you were an inspiration for me.
Your dedication to social work, helping fellow students with notes,
and I would notice a group of learners always gathered around you,
during breaks from the classes.
Time flies , time flew but time did come back.
This time it was much difficult.
Being senior is a challenging position, but you showed me how to be a leader.
After all these years I pick up my pen to thank you
and hope that life has been kind and successful for you.
May you always be a leader and an inspiration where ever you be.
Best regards.
Yours truly

Prompt Fifth Hour ~Word Choice ~ Under an Oak

I love to knit but knitting is complicated
technical and drastically mathematical
It is not like painting a sunflower-
nor tasty as cheddar cheese. it takes effort
then later comes ease.
Knitting must have a special space
Under an oak is absolutely fine
but never on a pavement or a line
I love to knit , maybe I would take my satchel
and sit on a platform bench
and knit a picturesque fabric, perhaps for a feline.


WORDS CHOSEN:  knitting, sunflower, space, satchel,cheddar cheese,

Music Lost from Keys

Strange that green growth survives,
though a dry yellowish look it gives,
music lost from keys white and black
seems to ring with the unseen breeze
where have all the senses gone?
where have all the flowers gone?
where have all musicians gone?
Gone with poverty, everyone?
Gone with greed, everyone one?
But no, there is hope,even with one
broken and silent ,
mind is alive
spirit is not dead
celestial sympnonies are in the air.

Hour Three – Image- Life is a Colorful Gift

Life is a gift
to be alive is a blessing
no matter what color or colors
you may be blessed with-
white black brown yellow or pink
let us think! Let us think !
Let us all be together like the foliage
on the lone tree, one trunk,one rooted place
all to breath the same air,
all to move in the same space.
All in harmony
All in acceptance.

Prompt Hour Two – Line from Robert Frost’s poem -Woods are lovely dark and deep

The woods are lovely dark and deep
Line from the poem By Robert Frost

Life is a journey not a destination
all have miles to travel ,miles to go
choices of which road to take, often
trouble and perplex the mental station-

the woods are lovely, mysterious and free
so much hidden so much to seek and see,
a haven for some , a home for many, many.
elves to play and witches to prey and peep.

still the woods are lovely with treasures replete
princes ride with swords, cut out their track
through dangerous darkness ,love leads their way
bravely they dash to awaken the treasure treat.

The woods are lovely dark and deep.