Monthly Archives: Aug 2017

Ronovan writes #Haiku #163

Shells burst all around,

as we approach the French coast

we come as saviours

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Power of the pen



voices in

the words, shall

plead that they be heard 

they will be uplifted from the paper,

for them to remain in silence would only serve as an empty gesture

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Ronovan writes#162

One last hope remains,

a stay of execution 

deadline approaching 

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Thursday photo prompt – Alone #writephoto Sue’s prompt this week is ‘Alone’.

se-ilkley-2015-saturday-142As had now become customary for the young Uddala, he was seated cross-legged on the dry ground in his favourite spot, to observe the daily miracle of Sunrise. Forty feet below, carved on the steep, sandstone bluff, the face of the “Buddha,” stared serenely over the plain to the East, his delicately carved hands clasped and intertwined in supplication far below.

“Older than time itself,” the villagers had told Uddala to cover their lack of knowledge of the mysterious sculptors responsible for the striking images, with some believing and others sceptical that they could be a natural phenomenon carved over millennia by the action of the winds and ancient rains.

All Uddala knew was that seated here on his lofty perch he was able to contemplate, meditate and continue in his search for Nirvana. He closed his eyes and with his mouth forming an, “O,” started his chant of, “Om”. A continuous monotone that would sometimes last for only two minutes but often more than one hour before, breaking from his trance-like state Uddala would excuse himself to the Buddha and the elements and depart.



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Colleen’s Weekly #Poetry Challenge # 45 Hate & Pride


Their banners unfurled

chanting lines of marching men

defending their homes

No hate lies within my chest

but admiring of their pride


Hate spills from thin mouths 

as marchers proclaim their pride.

Tension all around.

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Ronovan writes #161 #Haiku

painted eyes and nails

mask the lady’s true beauty

purity of soul

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Colleen’s Weekly #Poetry Challenge # 44 – #Haiku #Haibun or #Tanka: HUNT & FIND


I awake with the dawn, rueing now my nocturnal voyage. One would suffice but I chose to torment all the shrill, cackling fowl, intoxicated by their blood. Soon they will come for me, baying and snarling. I am ready.

Over field and river,

I tease and lead the huntsmen

then find my refuge



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Silent strain

Outside the window 

tall green willows sway and bow

in supplication 

The unseen relentless wind

enthrals us with it’s power

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