Thank you to Kaye Lynne Booth for hosting In Touch With Nature. This month I am discussing why cheetahs are the world’s fasted land mammal.
Author: robertawrites235681907
I am a writer of young adult fiction and poetry
Roberta Writes – Esther Chilton’s writing challenge and a d’Verse quadrille #poetry
Esther’s weekly challenge is green. You can join in here: https://estherchilton.co.uk/2025/04/16/writing-prompts-61/
Esther also very kindly hosted a guest post about my new poetry collection, Burning Butterflies, on her blog. I meant to reblog it here but accidently reposted to my art blog – oops. Anyhow, thank you so much Esther. You can read the post here: https://estherchilton.co.uk/2025/04/18/guest-writer-spot-165/
Esther is also offering to host poets and writers with a guest spot. She is a delightful host.
The Green-eyed Monster
When I was a girl of ten years old, my family moved from Cape Town to George, a largely Afrikaans speaking town in the Western Cape. I was enrolled in a small convent school as it was English speaking and Catholic. George, a small countrified town, was rather laid back and many of the children started school a year later than average. I was already a year younger than average, so this resulted in my being two years younger than most of my peer group. It was a difficult time for me. Ten and eleven versus twelve and thirteen is big at those particular ages. I was still keen on my dolls and Anne of Green Gables. The older girls were interested in boys and movies like Grease. I was a little girl, and they had boobs and hips.
There was one girl who I thought was incredibly pretty. Her name was also lovely. Kirsten, so much prettier than Robbie. Kirsten had long blonde hair that fell in a sheet to below her bottom. She was thirteen and had a mature figure. I was green with envy of this girl and wished I could be just like her. In retrospect, I was ridiculous. I came from a progressive family and Dad was always supportive. He thought his girls could be anything they wanted to be, and he encouraged me with all sorts of sophisticated books on art, history, and sculpture. We were not wealthy, but we always had a comfortable home and good clothes. Poor Kirsten had much older parents as she was a ‘laat lammetjie’ (late lamb). They were ultra conservative, and she was being raised to take on the traditional role of a housewife and mother. She made all her own clothes and never had anything modern or fashionable. I didn’t understand these things as a girl. I only saw the long hair, large eyes, and curvy figure, all things I would have loved to have. I sometimes wonder what happened to Kirsten.
Envy is
The green-eyed monster
Desiring
Long, blonde hair
I wished to be different
Such a silly girl
D’Verse Quadrille #222
Punam’s d’Verse Quadrill prompt is as follows:
“Today’s challenge is to write a poem of exactly 44 words (don’t falter on the word count) including the word alter in it. You can use any word that has alter in it. No form restrictions, no syllable counting, no strict rule for rhyming. The only thing that remains unalterable is the the 44 word rule (excluding the title).”
The following idea came immediately to mind. I had this conversation again recently with my physiotherapist.
No Alternatives
People say “You are strong
Face your family’s health issues
With courage and determination
Shoulder your burdens”
What do they mean? I wonder
What other options are available?
“You could drink or take drugs.”
Interesting suggestions
I don’t consider them to be
Great alternatives
Here are two ‘green’ pictures that I took this weekend.
Roberta writes – repost: What is a Window on Chewers by Masticadores
Thank you to Nolcha Fox for sharing my poem, What is a window. On Chewers by Masticadores.
Roberta Writes – d’Verse Poetic Tuesday: Busted #poetry
Thank you to Lisa for this fun prompt as follows:
I took a bunch of pictures of the busts yesterday and have included several of them here (please click on the images to enlarge them.) Your challenge, if you choose to accept it, gives you two options:
a) Create a sculpture (or bust) of yourself. Use any materials – real or imagined – using the guidelines within Victoria’s 2012 prompt.
b) Write an ekphrastic poem using one of the included busts. If you choose this option, please make sure you include artist attribution on your blog.
You can join in here: https://dversepoets.com/2025/04/15/dverse-poetics-tuesday-busted/
Memory Cake
dough is soft
squishy and sticky
flour coated fingers
knead and knead
gradually,
it becomes smooth
stretchy like elastic
split and rolled
into several balls
it’s ready for colouring
power, never liquid
each ball takes on
a new vibrancy
shades of pink, green,
purple, blue, and flesh
red and black are last
mucky and messy
hands stained purple
shaping and moulding
sharp tools cutting,
carving, and nipping
faces take shape
eyes, noses, mouths
hair: ringlets or straight
mother and children
flowers and vines
vision takes shape
memory cake for the future
young mother washing
while working from home
children on-line learning
in sunny backyard
Covid 19 encapsulated
in fondant and cake
Roberta Writes – Book review: A Life in Frames by Leonora Ross #bookreview #bookcommunity
What Amazon says
A photojournalist consumed by his passion for telling stories through his camera lens, a father and son at a war of wills, and lovers struggling to find a way to each other.
A Life in Frames follows the life of Namibian photojournalist Lejf Busher as he navigates through childhood and manhood in this coming-of-age literary saga. Two women are central to Lejf’s existence: his mother and the woman he loves. Destined for success and international acclaim, he discovers the complex reality of a career that separates him from his relationships. His mother is a beacon of strength, but he feels unsupported by his father. Lejf wants that acceptance. He also longs to succeed romantically with his great love, but her own search for independence and escape from a conservative upbringing widens the distance between them. Lejf’s expectations of a world and people he cannot change force him to confront his fears and choices when he can no longer run from them.
A Life in Frames is about the push and pull between the ties that bind us and the desires that motivate us. It is also about coming to grips with the consequences of unspoken and misinterpreted words.
My review
I reviewed this book in my capacity as a member of Rosie’s Book Review Team. If you would like your book reviewed, you can contact Rosie Amber here: http://rosieamber.wordpress.com/.
I was attracted to this book for two reasons: It is set in Namibia and it focuses on photography. As a South African with a passion for wildlife photography I knew I would enjoy reading a story set in our neighbouring country of Namibia and I also knew there must be a focus on wildlife photography. I was correct on both counts and I loved the beautiful descriptions of the main character’s, Lejf Busher, home in a small town in Namibia and his trips into the bush to discover amazing photographic opportunities. I related completely to Lejf’s love for his country and its wildlife and people. The author described the small town attitudes of the people who surround Lejf as a child, including his father, with a sharp pen, and I enjoyed the disruptions to their thinking caused by Lejf’s mother, a Swede with an open-minded European mindset. The scenes about a book about sex, written by Lejf’s mother to teach her five sons about women, and its making the rounds of the town’s people made me laugh. It would be like that here in conservative South African towns too.
Lejf’s father’s lack of support of his son’s choice of career also rang true for me, having experienced this attitude of creative careers being unreliable as pay cheque jobs in my own family. The clashes between Lejf and his father over many things were well portrayed and realistic. A conservative farmer from a small Namibian town would react to a dramatic and creative personality like Lejf’s with concern and a lack of understanding. The author has a very initiate understanding of small town people in southern Africa.
This is a coming of age story and follows Lejf’s life from a boy of ten into later adulthood. It beautifully depicts a man driven by deep empathy for the first nation people of this planet who have been displaced and their way of life decimated by interlopers. There is a great tragedy and sadness in the scenes of Lejf’s visits to these people and places. The author must have first hand experience of such peoples and places and has done a lot of research.
In summary, this is a beautifully written book filled with thought provoking and interesting scenes and well worth reading. It is literary fiction and the pace is slow and considered so it is aimed at a certain readership.
A Life in Frames is available from Amazon USA here: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1069082805
And through Amazon UK here: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Life-Frames-Leonora-Ross-ebook/dp/B0DW2Q8WNY
Roberta Writes – Guardian Angel poem on Hotel by Masticadores
Thank you to Michelle from Hotel by Masticadores, for publishing my poem, Guardian Angel.
Roberta Writes – Repost: Editor’s Pick: Square Peg in a Round Hole on Hotel by Masticadores
I am overwhelmed by Michelle from Hotel by Masticadores wonderful and insightful review of Square Peg in a Round Hole: Poetry, Art & Creativity. Thank you, Michelle, for your appreciation of my creativity.
Roberta Writes – d’Verse: Krisis: Poetry at the Crossroads #poetry #d’verse
Bjorn’s prompt for d’Verse Open Link Night #392 is to write a poem about the concept of krisis. You can find the prompt here: https://dversepoets.com/2025/04/10/open-link-night-392-april-live-edition/
Picture caption: Photograph of a crying, abused woman from Deposit Photos.
The March
In a ragged crowd they push onwards
Stretching as far as the eye can see
Some hobbling on strengthless legs
Some hunched over rusting crutches
Some pushed in battered wheelchairs
Some pulled on wheeled platforms
Their cries and groans of anguish
A cacophony of desperation and despair
The strongest help the weakest
In this mottled army of the dying
Deprived of life saving antiretrovirals
The virus chatters and chitters
Soundless and invisible
To the powerful in their ivory towers
Mothers clutch doomed infants
To chests of skin and bone
Their life’s milk a certain poison
Passing on the kiss of death
For victims of abuse and rape
The trauma will never end
Health melts like candle wax
As the virus licks its chops
Once healthy men now carry
The dangerous seeds of hell
No quick and simple death awaits
Abandoned dregs of humanity
No salvation for a forsaken mass
Marching steadily towards the grave
Roberta Writes – Michael Cheadle’s poem on Hotel by Masticadores
Thank you to Michelle Ayon Najavas for publishing Michael’s poem, Words of Suffering on Hotel by Masticadores. This poem features in my poetry collection, Square Peg in a Round Hole which includes nine of Michael’s poems.
Roberta Writes – d’Verse Dialogue It In and Esther Chilton’s writing challenge: The Killing of the Bull #poetry
Dora’s d’Verse challenge is to employ at least one line of dialogue in a poem. You can join in this d’Verse challenge here: https://dversepoets.com/2025/04/08/poetics-dialogue-it-in/
Esther Chilton’s writing challenge for this week is dark. You can join in here: https://estherchilton.co.uk/2025/04/09/writing-prompts-60/
I’ve been watching international stock markets react to the current media dubbed ‘tariff war’ with fascination. This poem is the outcome of my reading today. A good market is called a bull market and a bad one is called a bear market.
The Killing of the Bull
The bull’s stampeding down the road
He’s taken the whole herd with him
Blood gushing from the arrows
Embedded in his heaving sides
Each arrow tip sharpened by tariffs, and
Engraved with a previous rangers name
Canada, China, Europe, and Japan
Have already left the archer’s quiver
As he stands among the falling debris
Of Wall Street’s finest institutions
Impervious to the choking dust
Teeth shining whitely in the darkness
Investors watching from the sidelines
Spit dirt and muck from open mouths
Unable to decide which way is up
Through the heavy, swirling cloud
From a distance conservation officers
Observe grizzly stealthily approaching
“Be careful what you wish for” drowned
Amid earth tremors and upheavals
Ear splitting roar joins the cacophony
As bear bites into opportunistic meal
While the butterflies of renewable energy
Rain down on the desolate scene
Their fragile bodies scorched
And their delicate wings burning
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