Cherry Blossom Carried Away

petal walk

such a malice
cherry blossoms in full bloom
the Spring wind!

© Chèvrefeuille

scattered at my feet

arctic cold grasps pink innocence

spring picks up pieces


children dance around her

adults gather in sad fare well

hands full of beauty

her essence floats off in the basin

tears mist away

faintest pink remains

brown and bruised by the wind

© L. Moon

My Cherry Blossom offering to Carpe Diem as a Solo No Renga

And with Poets United as we celebrate the Cherry Blossom

a touch of cherry

Everyone feels grief
when cherry blossoms scatter.
Might they then be tears–
those drops of moisture falling
in the gentle rains of spring? 
For those of you poets who have not submitted yet,  we would love your poems/haiku  to encourage the orphans of Ebola. To those who have thank you !!!
A teen from the Philipines submitted a beautiful poem today I was so humbled by her desire to help.

Frozen #poetry #winter


pink begonia


She always seemed to wear pink

like a spirited blossom

that always embodied spring

where once we sat

there is a cold covering

nothing speaks of her warmth

dawning day in starry eyes

heat of molten sunsets

her flower petals drop

I traverse this white  path

her bare footprints covered

frozen is the fabric of my tears

that fall like icicles

and I sit on our bench



winters bench


I went far afield on the Poet’s United prompt today. I am snowed in at this beautiful getaway – so the snow covered bench and the rambunctious pink begonia stole the show which was supposed to be focused on “Fashion.”

Something Old, New, Borrowed, PINK #poetry #photography

Hint of pink

What am I to wear

season passed beneath the snow

ugly bulky winter fare

I will sing a lovely tune

to bring a smile to his face

not noisy as the summer festoon

none other than fragrance of spring

a dash of a tango

might I borrow fairy wing?

midnight  song will I falsetto sing

fresh light notes

nature’s simple offering

ivory with a hint of pink

dance I’ll share with the stars

 jealous be the moon I think

Today is Palm Sunday a day of newness and celebration. I wave my palm branch for the King knowing of the darkness to come.

This poem is from an old archived piece of prose, the poem is new, the photo was borrowed from my photography folder, the rose is a hint of Pink. This my offering for the wonderful, weekly, poetry pantry hosted by Mary at Poet’s United.

In Defense of Innocence #humantrafficking #poetry #amwriting

her mother’s beauty she wore

pink ribbon’s once danced on her head

when little sshe loved and adored

her mother’s beauty she wore

promise to be loved and adored

for the drugs she begged and pled

now her mother’s beauty she whored

pink ribbons danced on  innocent’s head


” unique  adoption market” he lied

her eyes glazed by addiction

“promise she a cared for child”

“yes, she will be wanted” he lied

“promise they will not hurt my child”

his eyes gleamed greedy conviction

” perfect opportunity” he lied

her world destroyed by addiction


pink ribbons soaked by tears

no one to chase sorrow away

she lived nightmare’s fears

pink ribbons soaked by tears

she lived nightmare’s fears

men lined up night and day

pink ribbons soaked by tears

no chasing sorrow away

There is nothing pretty or sweet about these pink hair ribbons. Symbolically they are defiled by the avarice and perversion of a world whose words are to protect children but whose actions are to treat them as chattel to be sold and used. When working with street kids, I asked where all the girls were.

“They are gone,” the brothers, cousins and friends would state. “They are chased down by mafia and state police and sold.”

I witnessed the night raids where children were chased down like rabid dogs in the streets. When I went home, I tried to raise awareness and financial support to create safe places for these children to go and be educated. No one wanted to believe that “this” the diabolical sale of children could be happening in our “compassionate” world. Years later that information is coming to the forefront – too late for many whose lives are already expired!!!


Photograph: “Ribbons” ©L. Moon 2013

Look Up #wordpress #weeklyphotochallenge #haiku

springs offering

open arm to spring

look close

beckon me to look

crane my neck I am captive

soft colorful pink


soft colorful pink

you open abundant arms

bathed in the sun’s spring


bathed in the sun’s spring

dance before me in soft silks

lost in petal smiles

This week’s WordPress photo challenge is “UP”. The wonderful thing is there is so much to look up at and enjoy. 

photography and poetry  L. Moon 2013 © All rights reserved.

You Poison Filled Wasps, #flashfiction #newcago #crime


Den of Iniquity, Brood of Vipers…

Those automated doom machines are on the loose.

The Chief of Police is in a coma.

The mayor and sheriff are dead.

A statesmen…


… as I crawled home I saw

Marjorie Finklestein in her flowery pink bathrobe.

“Ms Finklestein,” I shook her, no response.

Almost every night, she shuffled across the street to gather up her little dog.

I could hear her slippers …

Public officials are one thing, but little old ladies gathering up the things they love for a night’s rest?

“Lily I can’t take this.” I shook my hands toward the heavens.

pink slipper


This Flash Fiction is in response to the picture prompt of the Wasp Nest. Rochellle Wisoff-Fields is the hostess of the weekly meme Friday Fictioneers. Come check it and the fabulous stories out.

Every week based on the prompt I am writing a (noir) serial about a detective in a place called Newcago who tries to round up the bad guys at night. The stakes were just raised with the introduction of  the automated Doom Cycle; crime just got harder to fight!

Week 5 in Newcago Serial The Doom Cycle

Week 4 in Newcago Serial Helpless

Week 3 in Newcago Serial When the Lights Go On

week 2 in Newcago Serial  Can’t Kill The Thirst

Week 1 in Newcago Serial Secret Weapon

Photograph: you too can have pink slippers

“In The Pink Word” Press Photo Challenge – Color #wordpress #photography

violet (2)

The Pixie Path paintedfirst spring

Grand Canyon
Grand Canyon


You accent the frills

pave a fairy path

 whisper in spring’s blooms

paint the canyons grandly

say goodbye to the day

The Weekly Photo Challenge at WordPress is a study in color. 

All Photography and Poetry copyrighted L. Moon 2013