Colleen’s Weekly #Poetry Challenge # 27 – “Light & Dark” #Haiku #Haibun #Tanka

colleen poetry challenge

Join us for Colleen’s weekly poetry challenge! This week, Light and Dark.




Touching the stone arch,
Fingertips tracing eons;
Shadows and sun play.

The presence of ancient magic is palpable here; Nature’s slow painting of a myriad sand colors, leading back to a time unremembered by any but the fossilized souls of animals; long extinct.

Windwalker laughs as he watches sun and shade dance across time. Softly outlining the arch with reverent fingertips, he smiles, and whispers, “It is a hole of light with a side of darkness.”.


My writing this week is a tribute to Randy Roll. A true artist and poet, Randy’s soul now walks eternally in the canyons he loved.


Colleen’s Weekly Tanka Challenge: Help and Smile

Join us for Colleen’s Weekly Tanka Challenge: Help and Smile



Buried, deep.

Reading other writers’ poems, I often find their creativity sparks something in me, as well. Here’s what I unearthed this morning!


Note: OK, so having seen my lovely, foofy, unreadable font on the page (we won’t do that again, will we?), here it is in good old readable font.


Trying on different lives to see what fit
I found my own skeleton buried deep
beneath a mound of costumes.
Crying, softly, as I remembered who I was;
And lifting my bones gently from their early grave,
I washed them clean and clothed them in myself.



Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday: Prompt words – Fog and Change

Join us for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday: Prompt words – Fog and Change

Great choice of words to get the little grey cells in my brain working! 😀 Thanks, Colleen! ♥


Photo courtesy of

The Alchemist



In the apothecary of her mind

She seeks the ingredients to weave her magic

For an incantation that does not reside in any spell-book.

This must be hers, and hers alone.

Upon the dusty shelves she seeks them

Some, well-used, and almost worn away

Yet others, lurking near the back wall,

Still gleaming in their newness

Like precious gems thus far unset

Upon any mystic amulet.

As she finds them, she holds them,

With the tenderness of a would-be mother

In supplication to the goddess

To bring forth a child so rare

That the universe will marvel at the sight.

Then – with tears of pain,

Feeling the flames singe her flesh

She casts her jewels into the crucible.

Laboring through darkness,

Treading the razor edge between euphoria and fear

To bring about an alchemy so rare

That all creation will fall in awe before its magic.


Uttering her spell of longing to the skies,

Hope born of desperation catching in her throat,

Stirring with care the words upon the final page…

She whispers “The End,”

And closes the book.


Wendy Anne Darling 2015