Merril’s prompt is to write a haibun about time. You can join in here: https://dversepoets.com/2025/03/31/haibun-monday-lets-travel-through-time/

I didn’t write a haibun, I wrote a shadorma prose and here it is:

Borrowed Time

Time heals all wounds they say. But it’s not true. Some wounds do not heal. Some have a significant impact on your future life. This seems to be particularly true when it comes to life threatening conditions. In June 2021, my father was diagnosed with a pulmonary embolism. Covid delayed his diagnosis, and he nearly died. We did manage to get him the blood thinners he needed, and I injected him twice a day, every day, for ten consecutive days. He lived, but he never recovered fully. Recently, he has been diagnosed with pulmonary hypertension resulting from damage done when the blood clots broke up. He is now being treated for this condition and his health has improved dramatically. The treatment cannot repair the damage to his lungs though. Neither can it repair the damage to his heart caused by the pulmonary hypertension and resultant lack of oxygen to his brain. For over six months, my dad was sleeping approximately 19 hours a day. He was not able to drive or go out anywhere as the lack of oxygen in his blood was making him so dizzy and unwell. The medications have made a huge difference, and he now has quality of life again. It has been incredible to watch this transformation take place. It did make me think that he is actually living on borrowed time due to the marvels of modern medicine.

surviving

health catastrophe

received as

Act of God

but living on borrowed time

the reality

No Fool (tanka)

serious am I

never learned to play the fool

mom’s little helper

progressed to high achiever

now a serial carer

My tanka poem is written for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday prompt which you can read about here: https://tankatuesday.com/2025/04/01/tankatuesday-poetry-challenge-no-6-tarot-the-fool-4-1-2025/

My oldest son, Greg, graduated from his university today with a B Science degree in mathematics and computer science. He passed with distinction.

Esther’s writing prompt for this week is Waiting. You can join in here: https://estherchilton.co.uk/2025/03/26/writing-prompts-58/

In the waiting room

There is solidarity is the waiting room. No one wants to be there. Everyone is waiting for news. People smile sympathy at each other, as if it were a tangible item to be gifted. The walls are shiny white. So white they’re almost blinding. The smell of disinfectant lingers, it’s tones acrid and bitter. An attempt to eliminate the stench of anxiety, overripe, like rotting fruit. The combination forces acid bile up my throat. It burns. The hustle and bustle of the hospital is distant and muted in the waiting room. There are no distractions. I sit and unwanted memories come. Memories of other, similar waits. So many. More than I can count on both hands and feet, twice over.

Waiting room prison

Full of memory felons

Will he live or die

New book

My new poetry collection, Burning Butterflies, is available for pre-order on Amazon here: https://www.amazon.com/Burning-Butterflies-Poetry-Southern-African-ebook/dp/B0F2SDF2GW

Blurb

Butterflies are interpreted, inter alia, as symbols of transformation and change, hope and rebirth, spirituality, the soul, creativity, nature, beauty, and resurrection. Faced with the annihilation of much of the planet’s forests, wetlands, and other habitats for wildlife, all the wonderful things that butterflies symbolise are gradually being destroyed.

This book celebrates Southern African flora and fauna, while acknowledging the threats it faces.

This month I have featured the Nyala antelope for my In Touch With Nature post. It is an interesting antelope as it has the highest sexual dimorphism (difference between males and females) of all antelope.

Thanks for hosting, Kaye Lynne Booth.

In Touch With Nature – Nyala antelope #southernAfricanwildlife

Saana‘s challenge: The challenge is to write a poem inspired by the Poet and poem you have chosen. What emotions do they evoke in you?  

You can join in here: https://dversepoets.com/2025/03/18/poetics-monopoly-with-a-twist/

***Announcement***  
Please join us at dVerse LIVE on Saturday, March 22, from 10 to 11 AM EST. Google meet link will be provided at d’Verse Open Link Night on Thursday.   

By way of context, I’ve had an idea in my head about writing a modernised version of Dante’s Inferno for some time. My idea is that it will speak to the Sixth Mass Extinction and global warming rather than politics and sins. Anyhow, when I saw Saana’s challenge I knew now was the time for me to make a start on this project. To this end, I bring you the first 60 lines of Canto 1 of my poetic saga as yet untitled.

If you don’t know Dante’s Inferno, he uses a rhyming scheme of A, B, A, B, C, D, E, F, E, F.

CANTO 1

I’d entered the middle part of life, my youth had fled

When I found myself in a desert, enduring brutal heat

The sun beat dreadfully upon my uncovered head

Sand burned harshly beneath my tender bare feet

How barren that desert was, parched and desolate

Terror gripped my heart and filled my mind

I was left wordless in the face of such grimness

Created by man’s endless selfishness and greed

I mourned Earth’s end in this horrifying starkness

From this burning inferno could I ever be freed                                                            10

***

How I arrived in this unfortunate place, an unknown

I’d always tried to fight for human and animal rights

For my love of flora and fauna I was quite renown

I intrinsically knew humanity had caused this blight

Yet, in the distance I could see a patch of dark green

Enticing me to wend my clumsy way in its direction

Slowly, I moved forward across the scorching sand

Verdant colours luring me with nature’s promise

Perhaps there was still hope for this empty land

Possibly I’d find a source of consolation and solace                                                      20

***

Blood dried in my veins; fluid leached from my eyes

I panted, an attempt to rid my body of excess heat

As the devil sun marched across the faded blue sky

The green haze remained, keeping me from defeat

Hope’s finger beckoning: inspiring and motivating

A pledge of fluid to sooth my sunbaked body

Bleached bones created hazardous obstacles

Hosting clumps of discoloured leather-like flesh                                                          

Defeated by devastating climate change battles

Was there any way wildlife could start afresh?                                                30

***

Ghostly outlines slowly took on solid shapes

Large rocks thrusting out from sandy cradles

A girl child appeared, gorging on fat, black grapes

Vanishing as I approached, like a myth or fable

This further disturbance of the natural world

Distressed my mind near to its snapping point

If there was another option, I’d have retreated

But lack of water had left me in a poor state

I could only go on, I was physically defeated

Shoulders straight, I walked towards my fate                                                   40

***

A quivering in my nose – water I could smell

Softening of the dry air, my lungs embraced

Sweet humidity filling each bronchial cell

Then, I saw a fearful sight, my pulse again raced

The white fur of a honey badger behind a bush

Toughest and most aggressive animal in the world

Staggering backward in horror, my gasp escaped

As not one, but two, creatures blocked my path

Pair of tiny cheetah cubs; I laughed at my mistake

Then mom appeared, would I face her wrath?                                                50

***

In a voice, unused to forming words, she spoke

“Here you are, at last. We’ve been waiting hours

There’s a sandstorm brewing. Hurry, or we’ll choke”

We set of at once towards a thick clump of flowers

Mom almost gliding, her five cubs bouncing after

My admiration had no limits for this fastest of cats

Also, the most endangered of the big cat population

What’s happening, I wondered, what does it all mean

The desert had indicated the world’s damnation

Was there a chance salvation could still intervene?                                        60

Wisp by Adele Marie Park

What Amazon says

Edra; a world where magic flourishes and where dark secrets are concealed by those who rule. Secrets which can get the innocent killed without a thought.When the body of an elf is discovered in a treacherous area of the city, Wisp a young Law Enforcer is assigned the case. He soon realises the case is far from simple. As soon as he finds one thread another one leads him to unravel a tapestry woven from lies, secrets, corruption and evil. When friendship turns to love, Wisp`s life, as he knew it will completely change.What started out as a murder case ends in a grisly battle which Wisp and his companions seem to have no chance of winning.

My review

I really enjoyed this entertaining fantasy novel. Set in Edra, a world populated by various mythical creatures as well as humans, the author’s spin on the age old good versus evil tale is interesting and unique.

Wisp is a young marsh fairy who has not get come into his powers. After being orphaned at a young age, Wisp has been brought up by the chief law enforcer of the city, a human, who introduced Wisp to his world. When the body of a young male elf is discovered, Wisp is assigned the investigation. The late elf was the son of a powerful and well-connected female elf and Wisp is fascinated by her when he meets her. He also meets the elf’s boyfriend, Finn, to whom he is attracted. As the details around the elf’s death start to unravel, it becomes apparent that this is a lot more than a simple murder, the future of Edra is at stake. Wisp must choose his love’s path and come into his full powers in order to help save the day.

Meanwhile, dark and malevolent creatures are stalking the city and killing at will. Wisp, Finn, and a goblin assistant must try and stop the murders as well as discovering a way to end the gradual takeover of the city by evil forces.

I enjoyed the author’s vivid depictions of the various mythical creatures and their different natures, powers and general looks. In particular, Wisp is beautiful, and the depictions of marsh fairies are lovely. There are a few scenes of love making in this story, but they are necessary to move the story forward.

Overall, this is an entertaining novel including excellent world building and vivid writing.

Purchase Wisp from Amazon US here: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1541084837

A Christmas Homecoming: A Short Story by Yvette M. Calleiro

This is a delightful short story about an eighteen-year-old girl finding and being accepted by her natural parents.

Mary’s adoptive parents died when she was seventeen and she has spent the past year up until her eighteenth birthday in the care of her disinterested and indifferent grandmother. Her parents had never hidden the facts of her adoption as a baby and your mother had given instruction to the family lawyer to provide the details of her natural parents to her daughter when she turned eighteen.

On receipt of these details, Mary decides to seek out her natural parents. She is anxious about their accepting her, but determination and curiosity give her the strength she needs to undertake a search for them.

Mary is a lovely young woman who has suffered loss with the death of both her parents. Even though this story is short, I warmed to Mary and wished the best possible outcome for her.

A wonderful short Christmas story to make the reader smile.

Purchase A Christmas Homecoming from Amazon US here: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0DQK23BT8

Observations about postal services, blog posts and posters

Esther’s challenge for this week is to write about post. You can join in here: https://estherchilton.co.uk/2025/03/12/writing-prompts-56/. She meant post in the context of mail received through a postal service. This brought to mind the demise of South Africa’s postal service through corruption, theft, and mismanagement. It started with the theft of parcels which resulted in the establishment of private services for sending parcels. Amazon UK and US would no longer send parcels to South Africa via the government postal service and the services of private couriers had to be utilised for any orders from Amazon. This increased the cost of Amazon deliveries significantly and now I only purchase a few paperbacks in bulk orders and mainly read ebooks. Poor service soon resulted in the expansion of these private services to include the posting of letters and cards which just went missing or took three to four months to arrive at their destinations.

I didn’t want to write a poem about the sad disintegration of our postal service, but I thought I’d share it as an introduction to my poem about a poster so that my author readers understand why I generally purchase ebook copies of your books.

My next port of call was blog posts. I love reading interesting blog posts and I thought about writing a poem about posts but then I read a post by Rebecca Budd about her visit to the theatre and inspiration struck. You can read Rebecca’s post here: https://rebeccasreadingroom.ca/2025/03/16/and-then-there-were-none/

The Poster

The poster attracted my eye

“My Fair Lady’ splashed across its shiny surface

A black umbrella boldly silhouetted

Against a bright floral background

Childhood memories flooded my mind

Catherine and I singing ‘The Rain In Spain’

Me dressed in Mom’s bottle green theatre dress

Cath attired in a scarf dress in different shades of pink

Both of us sporting velvet theatre hats

One black, one dark blue

There was another, in brown tweed

That one languished, it was to masculine

For two giggling girls playing dress up

Who’d not yet reached double digit birthdays

Of course we had to go

Tickets were booked

The day awaited with eager anticipation

What a marvelous performance

Elize was magnificent

Henry Higgins perfect

With slouched shoulders

And a typical English cardigan in beige

The actor, another childhood memory

The lead in all my high school plays

It was a little shocking to see him

Sporting greying hair

But it worked, he was perfect for this role

We sang along with the songs

Clapped until our hands hurt

And laughed uproariously at the funny parts

In the basement, on the way to the car

We girls danced the can-can

While singing ‘Just You Wait’ at the top of our voices

Our menfolk lagged behind

Pretending they did not know

These two crazy women

Immersed in happy memories

Easter is coming so I’m taking the opportunity to remind you that Michael and I have a Sir Chocolate Easter story. A book is so much better than more chocolate. Sir Chocolate and the Valentine Toffee Cupid is available from Amazon US here: https://www.amazon.com/Chocolate-Valentine-Toffee-Cupid-holidays-ebook/dp/B0BT9GBNHL

This is my YouTube video which still makes me smile!

Dora is hosting this challenge which I’ve summarised as follows: Give us your take on the romance of the open window through your poetry.

You can read other contributions here: https://dversepoets.com/2025/03/11/the-romance-of-the-open-window/

Beyond the Window

An alien and eerie landscape

Fills my limited view

Through the oval window

Of the double decker airplane

That drags me forward in time

An eight hour journey

Pulling long and thin

Into a fourteen hour time difference

Clouds, lumpy and thick,

Like cooked oats porridge

Not what I expected

They look smooth from ‘down below’

I look for the cloud men

Of Roald Dahl’s vivid imagination

In this surreal place and time

Anything is possible

Wispy men rolling chunks of cloud

Into soft, floaty snowflakes

To shower upon a sleeping world

Seems quite reasonable

The sun creeps highter

Throwing shards of golden joy

Turning the soft cloud peaks

Into mango ice-cream

And deepening the shadows

I’m trapped behind

Three layers of transparent stretched acrylic

I pull down the shutter

Close my eyes and

Step into the enticing white world

This is De Jackson’s prompt:

New to the Q? Here’s what to do: 
Give a hoot about the rules and write us a poem of exactly 44 words (not counting the title), including some semblance of the word hoot.

You can join in here: https://dversepoets.com/2025/03/10/quadrille-219-a-poetic-hootenanny/

It’s a Hoot

The man hooted with raucous laughter

when the owl made its entrance onto the stage.

It hooted loudly.

The rest of the audience didn’t give a hoot

except the man was drunk as a hoot owl.

Collectively, they hooted him out of the theatre.

Thank you to Frank for the inspiration to use a selection of idioms. You can read Frank’s post on words here: https://beachwalkreflections.wordpress.com/2025/03/08/283-words-v3/

Esther Chilton’s prompt for this week is Villains and Heroes. My poetic response also includes a hoot. You can join in here: https://estherchilton.co.uk/2025/03/05/writing-prompts-55/

Nagloper*

When the night is at its darkest, he comes

Slinking stealthily through the velvet blackness, unencumber by clothes

If you listen carefully, you will hear him approaching

His headdress rattles, the human toe and finger bones dancing and jigging

A baboon’s wa-hoo and an owl’s hoot betray his familiars

Carefully walking backwards, footprints intended to confuse

He approaches the huts, ready to infect the children with foul diseases

He also has his way with the female sleepers, leaving them weak and powerless

A fearsome creature, the Nagloper*

***

Doctored knobkerrie# at the hut door

This symbol of defense, authority, and leadership

Will stop this sorceror in his tracks

Binding him fast until the head of the kraal releases him

Deciding on a suitable punishment for the nefarious villain

***

Wisdom is required

To attain hero status

Leaders born not made

*Nagloper means Night Walker in Afrikaans. The Nagloper is a myth of the Khoikhoi people of South Africa (previously called Hottentots).

#Knobkerrie is a mace.