A Crown of Feathers

IMG_20190629_171713She wore a crown of feathers
and some did think her mad,
she wore a crown of feathers
to remind her that she had,
learnt not to resist
the subtle twists
of life.

She wore a crown of feathers
upon her short grey hair,
and what they thought of her
she did not care,
because she liked herself.

She wore a crown of feathers
one visible, one unseen,
she wore a crown of feathers
let them wonder what it means,
when she takes to the sky
as she learns
to fly.

© ceenoa

Life Update …

Yoga Swan (2) smaller

The fire has retreated somewhat, sulking in the cooler weather of the last 2 weeks.

I have been back in my own home for the last 12 days.

My cast comes off my broken ankle on Monday (hopefully).

The cat is still missing, but I am hoping she has found a home she likes better.

 My garden is abundant with self-seeded flowers and rampant weeds.

I have a gazillion cherry tomatoes – I don’t actually eat very many.

This has been an intersting start to 2019, but I’m grateful for all that I have.

Life is GOOD.

“On This Day” Repost – A Poem about a Cow and a Wedding

You can find the original here, if you are so minded, or simply read on.


 I milked the cow in the morning,
on the day that I was wed,
a daily chore I deemed worth doing,
which made me rise, extra early from my bed.

The comforting sound of chewing,
her flank so warm, and soft as silk,
rhythmic sounds of fluid streaming,
as the bucket filled with milk.

I leaned my head against my cow,
and gentle handed squeezed,
as in my head I said my vows,
repeated now with familiar ease.

I milked the cow in the morning,
of the day that I was wed,
and in contrast to her cream white milk,
I married in a suit of red.

© ceenoa

A Suit of Red

A Suit of Red


A Year Old Thought

Dear old FB, tonight it reminded me of a post I made a year ago, and after pondering it a little while, well, actually about 1 microt (and if you don’t know what a microt is, shame on you – go watch Farscape immediately), I actually realised it was a telling statement on my life of a year ago.

What I had thought was just a random statement of fact, that did not have any special, deep or meaningful import, was, with hindsight, a very telling indictment of my life – specifically my then work life.

So now, after stringing this post out with a lot of jumble pre-wordage (yep, I did just type that!), just to justify the actually sharing of the statement (and to fill in the gap wherein I have not been actually writing anything lately), I give you my Thought of a Year Ago:

Life is too short to wear shoes you don’t love.

Consider it my gift to you this week.

Think about it deeply – and tell me it does not resonate with you in some fashion.

P.S. just to round out this post, I give you a photo of shoes I DO love, I should wear them more often.

New Shoes (1)

If you went down to the woods today

If you went down to the woods today,
did you walk in sunshine or stand in the shadow?
If you went down to the woods today,
did you dance in the leaves or recline in the wallow?
If you went down to the woods today,
  did you walk on the wide or step on the narrow?
If you went down to the woods today,
will you go back again tomorrow?

© ceenoa

Autumn Leaves (2)

Flash Flood

Like a flash flood in the desert,
I feel the oncoming rumble in my bones,
before the groundswell hits.

Engulfed, I struggle to breathe,
not knowing which way is up or down,
tumbling with the fierce tide pounding me.

An eternity, in a moment of white noise,
trying to ride the wave until it dissipates,
to be left bruised and bedraggled.

Stranded, on some random ground,
I crawl upright to start again,
the long walk back from grief.

© ceenoa

I have no idea what this poem means

You cannot heal me with your broken words,
smothered by your good intentions all renewal withers.

I shall be well
when the taste of life explodes in my heart
like sherbet on a tongue.

I am not your responsibility, I am my own
I cultivate my own garden
and what pleases me shall flourish
you cannot decide what I should keep
that choice is mine
and with it I will find redemption.

© ceenoa