Past: A Décima

This décima is for Ronovan’s weekly challenge. This time, we are to use the word KNOT in one of the D rhyme spots. I finally came up with one that I think is good!


Some events, though past, are painful:
Still alive inside the mind’s maze,
Still unkind and more than a phase,
Too much joy they already stole.

No matter what happens, I’m whole,
And when the past comes whispering,
There is a place for forgiving.
Events that had caused such a knot
In me, by now have been forgot,
Or at least they have lost their sting.

Ronovan Writes Decima Challenge Image

Mother of Sorrows

The DVerse Poetics prompt is about paradoxes today. Please follow the link to read other poets’ submissions and lovely examples of paradoxes in poetry. One of the options we were given is to build a poem around one of the given lines, and I am choosing the line, “I am the mother of sorrows; I am the ender of grief;” from the poem “The Paradox” by Paul Dunbar. The first thing I thought of was Our Lady of Sorrows: Continue reading

The Deepest Cry

This poem is for FOWC: Welfare, Writing Wednesday: Romance, and this prompt about community.


The romance needed is Divine,
This is the spirit’s deepest cry:
Community in Trinity,
Maker of all, to unify.

That’s not to say of no account
Is the physical, nor those needs.
The welfare of humanity
Must keep in mind what truly feeds.

I wrote this poem after Mass today. That’s one thing  I am loving: We can now go to church inside the church building. Despite the continued requirement of face masks and distancing, that is very good news! As important as physical health is, I find my mental health especially suffering during this time, and being in the church fills up my soul!

Sonnet: Dove of Peace

In this post from last week, I shared a picture and 2 poems inspired by it, wondering if I would start a series by reusing some of the lines to write different forms of poetry. Well, here is the next installment of the series: a Shakespearean sonnet (hoping to try a Petrarchian sonnet soon)! Shared with the Writers’ Pantry at Poets and Storytellers United.


The dove of peace brings healing in its wings,
The shining sun comes not so far behind –
A confluence of pinkish hues it beings,
The easier some happiness to find.
The dove of peace reveals itself to men
Although it often seems to’ve been delayed:
It can be shy, and finds its welcome when
True prayers of trust, like little stars arrayed,
Light up the people’s dark thoughts’ sky. Those stars
Provide much comfort when they’re born and rise,
Against despair and woeful words which mar –
With peace past understanding as the prize.
Thenceforth can many faith-filled flowers grow,
No matter which direction the winds blow.

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