Roberta Writes: d’Verse, Esther Chilton’s Writing Challenge, CFFC and Thursday Doors

d’Verse

Merril’s d’Verse challenge is But no, a butterfly and you can read the prompt and join in here: https://dversepoets.com/2026/08/04/poetics-but-no-a-butterfly/

Lost opportunity (freestyle)

The antelope stood

pondering the clouded yellow

of the early morning

Stray rays of sunshine

turned his coat

a lustrous copper

Making it shimmer

in the pale light

Stealthily

I reached for my camera

hoping to capture

the glory of the moment

Sadly

a velvet rose

peeping from behind a bush

caught the eye

of the hungry creature

It moved

and the opportunity

was lost

Esther Chilton’s Writing Challenge

Esther’s writing challenge prompt this week is test. You can join in here: https://estherchilton.co.uk/2026/08/05/writing-prompts-125/

Life Tests (haibun)

When I was a girl of nine, I contracted chicken pox. Within a week, my three younger sisters also went down with the virus. There were no vaccinations for chicken pox back then and Laura, aged one year old, and I were both very sick. I remember the day before the spots broke out in support of my claim of feeling unwell. It was a Saturday so we were all at home. I lay on a bean bag in the family room in a patch of winter sunshine feeling to ill to even read. My mother brought me a chicken mayonnaise sandwich at lunchtime but I could not eat it. Not even a bite. She was annoyed when she saw the untouched sandwich and said I was naughty to not eat it. She didn’t believe me when I said I was nauseous. On reflection, its strange that she didn’t believe me as I was never fussy about food and a chicken mayonnaise sandwich was a treat. I’ve never forgotten that she didn’t believe me. A day or two later, I came out in the tell tale rash and Mom knew I had chicken pox. One by one, the other children got sick and came out in rashes. The rash was itchy and I had to lie in a bath with Epsom Salts a few times a day to help sooth my skin which has always been ultra sensitive. We were all warned not to scratch the rash as that would leave scars. The only good thing I remember about this period is that I missed all the end of term tests for my grade. I was given an exemption from writing the tests due to contagious illness. I still have a few white scars along my hairline as testimony to my having had chickenpox. I never liked chicken mayonnaise sandwiches after this and still don’t ever eat them.

An interesting thing about this episode of childhood illness is that Mom never got chickenpox. We all assumed she’d had this virus as a child. A few years ago, my mother contracted chicken pox at the age of eighty four. This illness was a real test of her resilience and she had to be hospitalised for a few days. Her skin was yellow and she looked like a dried pear. It’s amazing that she cared for four sick children and never picked up the illness. Her resistance must have been good at the time.

white chickenpox scars

reminders of misery

days of nausea

CFFC

Dan’s CFFC challenge is to pair white with any other colour. Here are a few of my photographs featuring white and another colour. You can join in here: https://nofacilities.com/2026/08/03/paired-with-white-cffc/

Zebra foal with white stripes on its black body.

A snowy wood with white snow on a brown tree trunk.

Thursday Doors

Dan has featured the Japanese Room for his Thursday Doors post so I am staying with the Japan theme and sharing two doors/gates I saw in Japan in December 2024. You can join in here: https://nofacilities.com/2026/08/06/japanese-room/

Picture caption: The Akasaka Imperial Gardens front gate in Tokyo

Picture caption: Heavy wooden gates of a Bhuddist temple in Tokyo

Roberta Writes – I’m Late for Tanka Tuesday and Esther Chilton’s Writing Challenge & CFFC & The Flower Hour

Esther Chilton’s Writing Challenge

Esther’s challenge for last week was to write about pets. I’m late but never mind, I’m often late. You can read other peoples work and join in Esther’s new challenge here:

Dog Tragedy (shadorma prose)

When I was a girl of twelve we lived on a plot in Honeydew, Johannesburg. It was the second time we lived in this same house as my father had returned to his dream of farming part-time. The property was large with much of the ‘garden’ comprising wild veld grass and scrub bushes. My parents bought two pedigree Great Dane dogs because my mother had always liked this breed and there was a lot of space for them to run about. They were also supposed to be guard dogs but that didn’t pan out well because Harry and Lucy were exceptionally stupid animals. They were a lovely rich light brown colour, with friendly temperaments, and slobbery mouths. I have never been a big fan of slobber but I did like this gangly pair who were always delighted to see me and full of enthusiasm for life.

Some months later, my mother was asked to take another dog. The dog’s family was immigrating and they needed to rehome her. My mother agreed and the new dog soon settled into the family. Her name was Runt and she was partly Chihuahua and partly who knows what. I took a great liking to Runt and she became my dog.

The property adjacent to ours was a working sheep farm. The sheep were even more stupid than Harry and Lucy who took great pleasure in barking madly every time a sheep came into view on the other side of the fence. The sheep never knew what to do about the barking and just stood frozen until the dogs grew bored and moved on to new entertainment. Runt, however, was a clever dog. She also had the instincts of a hunter. Runt took a great interest in the sheep over the fence.

One morning, Harry and Runt were missing when we awoke. We called and called when breakfast was served but no dogs appeared. Eventually, Harry turned up in a bad state. He had been shot in the leg and was bleeding badly. My father had to take him to the vet for treatment. Runt never came home. Later that day, the farmer came to call. Runt had discovered a hole in the fence and she and Harry had wriggled through. Runt had led Harry in an attack on one of the lambs. The farmer, hearing the commotion, had shot at the dogs, killing Runt and injuring Harry. In those days, farmers defended their livestock by shooting any predators which is part of the reason why wild dogs and leopards are so endangered now. I was devastated when I learned the news and I’ve never had another dog since. We were told the lamb had died but there was never any proof of that.

keen prey drive

mixed breed chihuahua

looked for fun

found trouble

victim of a farmer’s anger

crossed the rainbow bridge

Tanka Tuesday

Colleen’s challenge was to use variants of the word yellow in a syllabic poem. You can read other poet’s entries here: https://tankatuesday.com/2026/06/04/tankatuesday-yellow-things/

Flowering Aloes (tanka)

organic gemstones

string of lemon quartz flowers

lifeblood of aloe

produced in heartwood of plant

basking in cool amber sun

CFFC – Yellow & The Flower Hour

These are the flower pictures that inspired my Tanka Tuesday poem above.

You can join in CFFC here: https://nofacilities.com/2026/06/08/the-crayola-box-of-8-yellow-cffc/

You can join in The Flower Hour here: https://secondwindleisure.com/2026/06/09/the-flower-hour-34-roses-in-memoriam/

Roberta Writes – Esther Chilton’s Writing Challenge, CFFC, The Flower Hour & D’Verse – Sewing Terms

Esther Chilton’s Writing Challenge

I’m late again but Esther’s writing challenge last week was promise. You can read other poet’s contributions here and find her latest challenge: https://estherchilton.co.uk/2025/12/10/writing-prompts-94/

The Promise (haibun)

When I was three-months old my biological father died of a massive heart attack in front of my mother. She was left on her own to raise me as best she could. According to my mother, I was a very easy baby and never fussed or cried unless I was hungry or wet. Mom believes I could sense her sadness and distress and behaved accordingly, making her life easier.

Mom also said that after my father, William Cecil Weatherburn-Baker, died, she promised me that we would always stay together. She travelled with me all the way to South Africa when I was nine-months old and when I was two years old, she married my stepdad who I refer to as Dad. Mom and I have always been together, just as she promised. When I got married, TC and I bought a house in the same road as my Mom and Dad. When Mom could no longer manage the stairs in their house, we sold it and TC and I bought a house with a cottage for my parents. They have lived there for over 21 years now. Mom turned 87 on 21 October this year (2025).

always together

Mom and I, facing the world

remarkable pair

Picture caption: Mom holding me at my Christening

D’Verse

Lillian’s d’Verse prompt is Come Sew With Me Sort Of and you can join in here: https://dversepoets.com/2025/12/09/come-sew-with-me-sort-of/

Holiday Entertainment – haibun

When I was in prep school and junior high, all the girls were obliged to take domestic science as a subject. The syllabus was split into six months of dressmaking and six months of cooking. During my first year of junior high, I was obliged to do an applique project for school. Each girl was required to draw a design on paper and then cut it out of pretty fabric. The process then involved ironing a piece of white backing onto the fabric pieces so that the fabric didn’t fray around the edges. Each piece was then sewn onto the two pillowcases and duvet cover that comprised the project deliverable. Our parents had to purchase the fabric, backing, and bed linen. I decided to create a Holly Hobbie design and took great delight in drawing each piece including a flowery pink dress, patchwork apron, and flowery bonnet. Mom kindly bought me a plain pink duvet cover and pillowcases. I meticulously cut out my shapes and ironed on the backing, ensuring the sticky side was downwards onto the fabric. I used blanket stich to sew my pieces onto the pillowcases and duvet cover. My sewing was neat and tidy and my teacher was pleased with the end result. I was delighted with my new Holly Hobbie bed linen.

I continued to use my applique knowledge to decorate bed linen for my sisters. I entertained myself this way for an entire school holiday. One day, I placed the backing back-to-front and ironed onto the sticky side. That was a disaster as the glue burned onto the iron. I managed to clean most of it off but, after this, Mom wasn’t keen on me using the iron for applique.

I kept my bed linen all through my teenage years until I was seventeen. Cath, however, decided one afternoon soon after her bed linen was finished, to cut out the Holly Hobbie with a pair of scissors. Obviously, that didn’t do the duvet cover much good and it was the end of her Holly Hobbie bedlinen set. She never got another as between the destruction of her duvet cover and Mom’s reluctance to let me use the iron, I gave up applique as a hobby.

applique

fulfilling hobby

creating

beautiful

bed linen for young sisters

came to sticky end

CFFC and The Flower Hour

Dan’s CFFC prompt this week is spring or autumn or both. I bring you spring because why think about autumn until you have to. You can join in here: https://nofacilities.com/2025/12/08/autumn-or-spring-or-both-cffc/

These pictures are also for Terri’s The Flower Hour which you can join in here: https://secondwindleisure.com/2025/12/09/the-flower-hour-10-festive-holiday-florals-and-decor/

These are pictures of the blossoms on my fruit trees.

The following two pictures are of van Gogh’s paintings in the van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam. They are both of spring blossoms.

Roberta Writes – Esther Chilton’s Writing Challenge: Angel, and Thursday Doors

I’m a bit late with this post but it’s been a tough week. My big transaction went live at 5.08pm tonight after four days of manic rushing about tying up loose ends and getting all the deliverables ready. This is the end of 10 weeks of hard work and I’m glad it’s done. I have another three on the go but those are smaller and more manageable.

Anyhow, on to the writing challenge. Esther’s prompt was angel. I had an idea last week which I didn’t manage to write up. Then I read Freya’s final post in her Dragon Scales poetry style series, and the following poem came all at once. So, this poem is for Esther’s challenge and is my first Dragon Scales poem. I’m not sure I got it quite right per Freya’s directions, but I’m pleased with the result. You can read Freya’s poem here: https://freyanrites.wordpress.com/2025/12/02/hollowness-verse-7/

You can read other Angel poems here: https://estherchilton.co.uk/2025/11/26/writing-prompts-92/

Angel

When I was five, we moved into a house in Blairgowrie in Johannesburg. At the time, it was a typical suburban house with a low wall separating the front garden from the grassed pavement. Mom was very busy with my sister, Cath, you was only one and I spent a lot of time playing by myself.

That Christmas, Mom gifted me some old tinsel which was bald in patches. I could play with it and even cut it up into smaller pieces to use for my creative projects. I made one piece into an angel halo.

I was a good singer and was already singing in the school choir by the end of my first school year. I took it into my head to dress up as an angel and sing Christmas carols on the pavement outside my house.

I remember wearing a long white nightdress and borrowing one of my mom’s glittery evening shawls for wings. I put the halo on my head and took up a position on the pavement on my knees. Mom found me there several songs later, entertaining a gathering of pedestrians who had stopped to watch my show.

Mom was not pleased with me making an exhibition of myself.

bright

filled with light

little girl

dressed in white

a delightful sight

as day turns to night

angel

***

kind

strong of mind

intent on lifting

burden of daily grind

joy pedestrians find

Christmas redefined

angel

***

pure

no marketing lure

goodness still exists

message couldn’t be truer

there may seem fewer

but ills they still cure

angel

***

leader

to spread joy eager

innocence of youth

a child preacher

passion defines each feature

a curious Christmas teacher

angel

***

halo

colours of the rainbow

small, still child

engaged in Christmas tableau

small face all aglow

as people pass, to and fro

angel

***

hope

returns as a trope

all is not lost

viewers walk up the slope

better equipped to cope

there’s no need to mope

angel

***

life

can cut like a knife

there’d be no happiness

if we didn’t know strife

respect the midwife

take pleasure in wildlife

angel

Thursday Doors

Dan has suggested Christmas as a theme for Thursday Doors this month, so I’m going with that. You can join in here: https://nofacilities.com/2025/12/04/five-years-new-haven-connecticut/

These pictures are of the reception main door at Champagne Sports Resort Hotel where my family spent three days in early January this year. The Christmas lights and decorations were still up at that time.