The Night Sky Lullaby – A Dash of Sunny


Our friend Mr Moon shines so brightly tonight

He bathes your bed in sweetest, soft light

He smiles gently upon you, the whole night long

As Mr Nightingale sings you his lullaby song.

Image source here

Here is my entry into A Dash of Sunny’s Prompt Night, where this week, we are asked to write about the moon.

I wrote this poem back in the early days of my blog, when I took part in the Trifecta Writing Challenge, a community that is sadly no more. In this particular instance, we were allowed to use 33 words to share a bedtime story routine.

Yes, it’s an old piece, but as soon as I saw the prompt this week was the moon, I thought of my little brother (he’s now 26!), when he used to point at the moon at night and we would call him ‘My friend the moon’. Such sweet memories, such love, such joy. So, I couldn’t help but re-share this little lullaby, I hope you don’t mind the ‘lazy’ route I have taken!

Please do head on over to A Dash of Sunny, enjoy the responses and go on… take part!

TJ’s Household Haiku Challenge – Potpourri


you remind me of
grandma, her love of soft scents
cocooned in glass bowls

childish joy, fingers
crush desiccated petals –
aromas unleashed!

Thank you to Ritu for posting her entry into TJ’s Household Haiku Challenge – she inspired me to take part!

As you can see, potpourri has strong memories for me. In the 1970s, when I was a little girl, it was a ‘big thing’ here in the UK (or at least, that’s my memory). I think there were revivals in the 80s and 90s too. Perhaps now as well, but whatever the case, it reminds me of being little again, which is an absolute delight.

If you enjoy poetry, if you enjoy haiku, if you are intrigued by haiku and what to try writing your own (3 lines, 5-7-5 syllable format), whatever the case, why not take part in TJ’s weekly prompt? I’ve written a few before, courtesy of dVerse, and I love the short, concentrated format, trying to encapsulate so much into so little.



I loved the way she said “balloon”. She said it as if she were blowing bubbles.

I had been infatuated with her since I was seven years old, from the first moment I saw her dance into the playground as if she had wings. She seemed to hover above the asphalt, a radiance in her smile and warmth in her eyes as if she was merely waiting for all the joys that the world was sure to bring her.

As for me, I was a surly little girl at that point, or so my teachers used to say. I was often to be found in the darkest corner of the playground, hidden in the shadows of the chimney stacks rising like sentries from the factory roof next door. I pressed myself so closely to the depths of the gloom that my cardigan and skirt would be smudged with the soot that clung to the walls. I was an observer, a collector of moments that I would hoard jealously to myself and  recreate furiously in my notebooks as soon as I got home.

Maddie, oh Maddie. She was the light of my life for thirteen years. Unlucky for some, for her, most people thought, as her light infused me with joy and my darkness forced her to deal with practicalities of life. To everyone else, she lost some of her vivacity, her enthusiasm for the world, but to me, when we were on our own, she shimmered like heat haze on the horizon.

The plane was two hours late. I had shuffled in my seat, crossed and uncrossed my legs, picked at a hangnail until it bled. ‘Come to me, Maddie’ the words had reeled endlessly in a constant circle of unrelenting obsession, as if I could will the plane to pick up speed, to land in my lap and deposit my desire right here, right now.

The stain on the wall is all that remains. I go back there sometimes, to the playground, to my past, to Maddie. If I run my fingers over the bricks, pockmarked with age and beaten and crumbled with wind and rain, I can almost feel her gripping my hand in glee as we daubed the wall with bitumen from the caretaker’s stores.

“Maddie ❤️ Rosie”

It was still there, all these years later.

All these years after the plane never landed, all these years after my own heart shattered into a million tiny fragments and I closed my notebooks forever.

You see, Maddie did love me. It hadn’t been a one way street.

Even if her flight never returned her to me, my love for her had been returned a thousand-fold.