Smile

https://dversepoets.com/2026/01/12/quadrille-239-smile/

My smile is fragile, like a mayfly

But it is there - waiting like kindling 

Daring to glow 

I like how it changes my face

Makes my eyes shine a little - with hope perhaps 

I hold it gently - like a dream

Daring it to grow. 

All Just A Story

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2026/01/friday-writings-209-start-where-you-are.html

‘Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can.’ Arthur Ashe

 

I remember her saying - everything is a story

If that is true there would be a beginning, middle and end 

Here is my beginning - I am still working on the Middle - and hope for a contended End - 

Alice

I started the book. The one which weighed so heavy. The one I thought would mean everything. I un-pulled the stitches. Peeled off the glue. Licked up the red and began. By the second page I breathed and I saw that letters are only shapes. Black marks. You can turn them upside down and this way and that but that’s all letters are. Shapes. Some days the black marks eat you. Some days they feed you. Some days they hold you so tight you can’t breathe and the blood inside you turns to acid. Acid and rust. All the seconds inside acidify into nothing. A poison you can’t hold. Or swallow. You want to capture everything. Turn the shapes into symbols. Turn nothing into meaning. But letters are the holes in the net. Not the string. It is in between the letters that the story can be found. If you dare to look. I am not sure I want this book now. The weight tires my hands. A stone carried too long in my head. I don’t care what signs are left on my wrists. On my heart. I will catch them as they fall past me on the way back up the Rabbit Hole. I smile. It is all such nonsense. There is no beginning middle or end. The Cheshire Cat comes together licks his paws savours the jam. Alice dances with the candle. Her little letter feet inside her little letter shoes. Weightless. And I dream a thousand dreams knowing she is inside of me. That she never left. Alice is always there.

Living An Alphabet

https://dversepoets.com/2026/01/08/mtb-first-to-last-letters/

All is quiet within my head - it makes a pleasant change

Because normal for me was busy

Candles light my way and

Darkness only follows me in my sleep

Everything is outside is wild

Flowers bend and twist (in the)

Ground, grinning and smiling 

Happy little things

I think silently

Just in case I wobble, I think about them - (they are)

Kindness and strength 

Love and losses - all -

Mine, like dropped pennies

Numerous and shiny

Of course I count them up

Perhaps they make me rich inside (they make me)

Question what is

Rolling thoughts

Sadness and happiness

Teeth white, like Rabbit’s tail

Unusual but - 

Very familiar 

What was, what is

X-rays of existence 

Yes indeed I am alive (no animal in a)

Zoo.

Letting Go

Letting Go

https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/2026/01/letting-go.html

Now I am awake I can imagine letting go of her jam stained fingers 

Which have been locked inside mine for many a dangerous year 

I would like to cast her up to the stars and the moon so she can finally be free

I do not imagine our parting as sad

It would make me proud to see her climb up a ladder of stars

I would watch with excitement to see the joy on her face 

The possibility we both have inside to be free 

Freedom seems to be what makes life magical - being well and safe enough to play

Bouncing words like rubber balls, catching petals as they fall from trees -

Jumping in puddles and being warm inside, but also knowing when to stop 

Before play becomes reckless and bad habits return with their false promises of fun

Of course there will be times when I would miss her

But I am ready, I feel it inside - not a single moment or a flash of light

Rather, a collection of sea-weathered stones warm in my pocket - ready to (re) build my path 

Maybe I would even paint the stones yellow - bright as sunshine - shining and wild 

If not yellow, then solid and grey would be just fine - any road is better than some that we have tread and trespassed on -

Now it is time to gather in our lessons and cast out our mistakes

Always building, building, building to create our bestest selves.   

Somebody Loves Us All

https://dversepoets.com/2026/01/06/poetics-borrowing-bishop/

Title taken from The Filling Station - Elizabeth Bishop 

Somebody Loves Us All

The pew is cold under my seat, I can feel the traces of wood knots

And prayers both answered and put on hold (they will be fulfilled in time)

The air is damp. Old stones and broken ceiling slates

It makes each breath in and out like a magical gift

So many people have been here - now, I am too

That makes me want to giggle and burst

Not cry silently into the empty font

I brush my fingers over the knitted kneeling pads

Made with so much care. A little dented. Much used

Like the skin on my body also knotted and (mis) used

Perhaps I am comfortable now, more at ease with my body and soul

Just how did I spend (and waste) so many years in the toil of pain -

What I thought was my work and purpose

Now I have to forge a new and different path - fashion a different prayer

Always knowing deep inside that somebody loves us all.  

Epiphany

 Epiphany 

https://dversepoets.com/2026/01/05/haibun-monday-1-5-26-epiphany/

I stand at the window of my life. I am warm and dry and my stomach is comfortably full. Outside there is a small splattering of snow. I hope there won't be ice in the morning. I am still worried about falling over. Perhaps all is well. Perhaps I am well. Perhaps it is better not to chase clouds or daydreams. Perhaps it is better not to seek dreams at all, but rather magical moments. Like the owls who sing when I awake at half-past two. Perhaps those magical moments will grow like flowers. Tiny leaves. Strong roots. Colourful petals. Of course there will be days when they struggle to thrive. When their petals drop off and they have to grow again. Such is the nature of life. And perhaps in understanding that I have reached a kind of epiphany. 

The stars shine bright

The moon is out in splendour 

I breathe and smile.  

Fireworks

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2026/01/friday-writings-208-fireworks.html

I think I like red sparks of light and life now

They shimmer and shine in the night sky

Sweet as the hooting owls in the tree as my day begins

It is good to see a punctuation in the darkness

A glimmer of hope and new beginnings -

Or at least a revision of bad, old habits

I like the feel of sparklers in my hand 

They have a smell - not quite burnt but on fire

Perhaps a catherine wheel will be attached to the gate

Spin and turn quick as her twirls and turns

That would make me smile

I hope my days won’t go up in flames but rather have a steady glow

Like the sun on the horizon lighting my way

Two steps forward, one step back -

No matter, as long as I do keep moving and breathing in and out 

I raise a glass to all that could be if only I keep trying

A new year, a fire inside - a much needed desire to change and be.