Alfheim

Rommy from 

asked to craft a poem around a mythical time or place

I found a mythical place called Alfheim : Land of the elves.

    

Alfheim 


Alfheim one of the nine worlds
full of scintillating creatures
dressed in the colours of the moon
pale grey and milky way white
Pointed ears pick up the
the whispers of the wind
sending secrets to rustling leaves
Mystical light dances between
diamond shaped shadows.
Tree trunks tower over
petal roofed cottages
where white faced elves
crowned with a wreath of roses
spread specks of gold dust, 
dew drops and threads of
silver spider fibre to welcome
dragonflies and fairies
feasting on amber honey
and purple elderberry wine,
and nut shells full of forest food
to celebrate the celestial beauty
of a serene summer in mythical realms

Time

3 words chosen from the list  by Sanaa: sky, twilight and deep for

A view on our summer holiday in December 2019 in  the South Island of NZ

This fantail circled a few times around my head and landed once briefly 😀

Time

Time disappears into nothingness 

like soft sand held by cupped hands 

Gliding through your fingers

Reuniting with a vast mass

of a thousand grains

Slow down, slow down

Don’t let it al go, and swiftly flow 

Take time by the hand

hold that hand tenderly

and walk to see the world

with the eyes of a child 

watch the clouds dance in the sky

Be in awe of a golden twilight

Let the twinkle in an eye 

make you smile

Be fond of a fantail 

fluttering around you
Let time take you with her

Be like a soft stream lapping

Be the wild water 

bending seamlessly 

around obstacles

Accept all what comes

and let it flow, let it flow slow

till you reach the river mouth

and become one with the ocean

where thirst for time drops deep

there is your harbour, your home

Winter Wonderland

Prompt Poets United: Winter
It's nearly summer here but I have never written a poem about winter so here we go

Winter Reflections

Colours have faded 
A grey curtain has been
pulled over the land
The leaves have left
The streets are silent
A clattering orchestra of
rain breaks the stillness
I sit by the crackling fire till
darkness wraps around me

In the morning the dim light and
fog meet in mysterious ways
Diamond dust has covered the land
Sun's feet walk over frosty grass
glancing through the windows
of dangling dew drops
reflecting itself into nature
Like our soul reflects our
nature into the world

A brilliant blue sky
announces beauty
we leave for the mountains
The cold breath of winter has
whispered into the starry night
Turning ice crystals into snow
It’s weight softened into
crevices, smoothing it into
a shiny silvery robe.
Fit for the majestic mountain
who looks at his likeness
in a serene glassy lake
Like my eyes mirror the
wonder of this winter land

Are we living in freedom

We had some free afternoons this week so time to write.
Prompt for Poets United: Authentic. When I think about being authentic I think about being truly yourself. I wrote a a few (simple) poems about that. The very first poem I ever wrote in my life was for writers island and was about being yourself. Therefore this time I got stuck on the word freedom lol

Are we living in freedom?

What is freedom
Is it freedom of speech?
Try to throw truth in the arena
Some will let loose the lions
to draw your blood.
The truth is too threatening

for those who like living
in fool’s paradise

Is freedom the absence of enslavement?
Are we not magnetised by money
wanting to become the privileged
who grow opportunities in their garden
with no guarantee to harvest happiness
a few even dance with demons
in places where vultures circle above

A countless crowd is trapped in a web
shackled to sex, alcohol drugs, food
to fill the emptiness inside
big as a barren battlefield
to drown out the world which is
not the wonder we had wished for

So, is there freedom?
Yes, we can find it inside
the twilight of the mind

It’s at the crossroad of
the heart and the soul.
It’s on a golden path
illuminated by virtues
like wisdom and morality

That’s where truth and love resides
That’s where the authentic self was born.
The place where you choose
how to act, not react
Where you wish to serve the world
not wanting the world to serve you
Beauty walks there, into red sunsets
with white wings, among blue poppies
Beauty walks with the colours of freedom

Little River Flower Power garden trail

What a blessing this day was. On Sunday morning I found a pigeon in the garden, one metre from our cat. My first thought was that the cat got her. When I went close-up she seemed to be all-right. The first thing to do when I don't know what to do is find my husband. 

He never disappoints. He picked her up. She escaped but collapsed a few metres further. Otherwise she seemed ok so my husband thought she suffered from exhaustion. 

He quickly made a cage from pallet wood and we bought some bird seeds and got her some water and a piece of lettuce.

She lied there like a very sick bird for about 24 hours but when we checked at night she was a lot better, but it was already dark. This morning we released her and ti was a delight to see her fly up high and far.

Afterwards about 9.00 am we went off to Little River on this stunning labour day in Spring. We went to the Little River Flower Power garden trial which was absolutely fantastic. We saw 14 beautiful private gardens. There is a micro climate in little river so there were some exotic flowers on display. I was in love with all the Rhododendrons. You also see a picture of the silo's where you can stay and there is a cafe with beautiful art in Little River.
Hope you enjoy the impressions of this day and these beautiful flowers

Change

Poetry United Change

22 February 2011 earthquake

Change is the theme of my life as I went through quite some changes. One of them moving from the Netherlands to New Zealand and starting all over again. The biggest change was going through a major earthquake. I was lucky I lived in the “better” part of the city, as the damage we had was minor compared to the damage in the East and the people who lived on the hills. The 2010 Canterbury earthquake struck with a magnitude of 7.1 on 4 September.
I went to work asap. I worked for a charity who provided access to computers, internet etc Our computer network didn’t work, and I couldn’t reach the technicians. I called people randomly to ask for help and the support I got was amazing. Within no time the system was up and running. Many people had no electricity, so we were flooded with people to use the computer. We worked non-stop. I remember one morning heading to work. It was still quiet on the parking area. 

The after shocks kept coming and a lady looked lost walking around. I asked if she was all right. She said softly I lost my husband last year and now I lost my house. I gave her a hug and she looked startled and asked “Could I please have one again” We both smiled and moved on. That was the first hug of many.
I went inside and connected to someone from another charity in the area. Suddenly we all worked together, and we were one big force.
When home we checked up with neighbours who told us that they were so happy that all the damage they had was all material and that they were so blessed all the family was all right. That was the general theme. Connection, support, hugging, joking. It was almost a blessing in disguise. After the earthquake everything went slowly black to normal, but one thing stayed with me:

He aha te mea nui o te ao
What is the most important thing in the world?
He tangata, he tangata, he tangata

It is the people, it is the people, it is the people
(Maori proverb)