Phoenix (NaPoWriMo)

From our Host:  “And now for our early-bird prompt (optional, like all our prompts!) Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poetic self-portrait. And specifically, we’d like you to write a poem in which you portray yourself in the guise of a historical or mythical figure.”

With brother, sister Phoenices

I rally!  Lift head, not prideful

Arrogance…grateful victory cry.

Wear pinions, smoky pewter hue

Silvered by furnace, tested true…

Fragrant triumph, no hint of burning.

Life strikes firestone, I fall a-flaming…

Yet wait, now watch a radiance rising:

Wings spread again, on wafted poetry

Beneath God’s caring vigilant eye…

His grace unclouded, goodness rich

His heart holds nary shadow of turning.*

©Ennle Madresan, 2019 ~ All rights reserved.

* “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning.” James 1:17, King James Bible

Bible Verses:

Phoenix Image:

Of Bottles On Windowsill

Word limit: under 150

Bottles in pub window (The Green Dragon in Wymondham)


Delightful bottles on windowsill

Contain curatives for every ill…

Measured great or small, they will

Perk heart up, help mind to still.

If you’re feeling chill, then swill

Enough to swallow healthful squill*

(Not to fret, doubt it would kill)

And any prescribed herbal pill.

Improvement quick, elixirs instill…

Such that patients feel new thrill.

Down the hill from Quixote’s windmill

Myself, I holidayed by clear rill**

Took refilled flask, lest one drop spill

Of lovely distilled daffodil.

I sipped and drank…am drinking still

A toast to bottles of windowsill!

*Bulb of the sea squill, which is sliced, dried, and used as an expectorant
**A small stream

©Ennle Madresan, 2019 ~ All rights reserved.

What Shall We Do, Dear? Today’s prompt: guitar, forest, caviar

Doubt I’d care for caviar

Perhaps pizza, I’ve cash to spare

Forest get-away sounds too far…

Let’s do stay-cation, shall we dare?

You can play “come-hitherguitar

We’ll turn off phone, enjoy lovers’ lair.

©Ennle Madresan, 2019 ~ All rights reserved.


Waters of Grace (#writephoto)

Thursday photo prompt: Tranquil #writephoto

Sue Vincent’s photo


Carry me to violet place where

Lavender mist lifts, perfumes air

Barely a ripple imprints thoughts…

Tranquility disperses cares.

Love holy, Spirit, sojourns here

Bids weary restless hearts draw near.

Meet me, shepherds, sinners make haste…

We’ll bathe, be restored in limpid waters of grace.

©Ennle Madresan, 2019 ~ All rights reserved.

Winter Roses

This is an old one, pulled from my files… E.M.

“Grief is for the strong, who use it as fuel for burning.” 

Lauren Groff, author Fates & Furies

Winter roses, left at her door—

Someone remembered she missed

Him more than ever before…

White petals edged with dusk, dew

Frosted, lying against the snow.

Someone remembered her heart

Was yet aching, still breaking

Though long years had passed

Like tides which continue

Rhythmic washing away of shore.

Someone remembered that no one, now

Would bring her pale roses anymore

White winter flowers, to mark the day—

Someone remembered that he was

All she’d had of love, a tattered dream.

Someone remembered that he was

Pale roses—mere shadow clung to

As she walked the floors of silent dark

In solemn vigil…what did she pray?

What was she waiting, hoping for

Through those hours, nights of her life?

Someone remembered her—clouded

Child of autumn beauty she’d been—

How she breathed the peppery perfumed

Roses…smiled when he said, “come away.”

©Ennle Madresan, 2019 ~ All rights reserved.