Sunrise Glory-Dressed

Glory-dressed sunrise

Exalts Creator…warm hues

Woven of hushed-awe

Threaded through dawn’s rose-gold silk

Altar set, let Earth praise God

“His coming is as brilliant as the sunrise. Rays of light flash from his hands, where his awesome power is hidden.” Habakkuk 3:4, New Living Translation

©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations, 2020 ~ All rights reserved.

The Suitcase

‘Mid inky midnight

I open suitcase, the

One with initials

Though I don’t know

Whose they are…

Heavy lock had once

Been unbreakable, but

Efficacy of determined

Perseverance must

Ne’er be discounted…

Inside bruised leather

Is everything I’ll need

To live out my days

As though someone

Gracious spirit, perhaps

Had ascertained what I’d

Require to remain content

Utterly independent:

There’s money, savings

Bequeathed by stranger

To provide for modest life…

One long, meander-shaped

Stone, representing my

Intrepid soul…

A piece of palest blue

(Moon at dusk)

Sea glass, symbolizing

Inmost discerning sight

And sandcastle, size

Of my hand, swathed in

Cheesecloth to protect

Keep intact…once, it housed

Tiny scurry-crabs, hermits

Now it’s my home, heart’s

Ever-here home, small yet

Spacious, it will embrace

Horn of plenty’s blessings

Suitcase-full—plus prayers

Penned in poetry, windswept

Notions, melodic dreams—

But cold-boned skeletons 

Of memories, I’ll bury at sea

They’ll never visit again…

Gulls wing near, silvered in sun

Their welcome cries greet; and

There! Sirens surface, merely to

Glimpse lone female mortal, before

Diving back to depths, their world…

Tides bring psalms, drifted from

Heaven, to become embroidery

On wavelets laced, ribbon-tied

Banners fly o’er bijou castle

I unpack simple possessions

Draw calm breaths…grateful

©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations, 2020 ~ All rights reserved.

Peace Project, Gather Magic

Peace is heart-project

Lending itself to artists

Grief shards collectors

Fashion near-immortal works

From shimmer, shattered notions


Bits of magic shine

Like fresh fallen dewdrops ‘mid

These frangible days

Make no excuses, look ’round…

Gather each flicker, light Hope

©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations, 2020 ~ All rights reserved.

Eugi’s Weekly Prompt “Magic” July 27, 2020

Azure-Shaded Afternoon


Maybe you’re not a stone

Statue, river rocks for eyes

I’m well-accustomed to

How you typically respond

To any presence—with safe

Pensive, wordless reserve

Yet suddenly a window slides

Open, highlighting beautiful

Masculine planes I feast on, and

You smicker* at me instead

(As though only now

Noticing, appreciating)

And cause me to blush

Melting heart’s reticence

I’m dazed, half-dozing

For in your far-off gaze

The world looks different

More like it was when we

Both were younger, and

Any dream seemed possible

©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations, 2020 ~ All rights reserved.

* (def: to ogle and smile amorously —used with at, or after)

Crowded Mind (Limerick)

In bijou mind I need more space

Myriad thoughts vie for rightful place

Most notions have good purpose sweet

Some with grim shadows are replete

Brain bustling, I seek rest in grace🙂

©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations, 2020 ~ All rights reserved.

My Nefelibata (“If We Never…”)

Silver grace beneath

Your feet of clay, now crumbled

You were child’s hero

My dear nefelibata

Still cherished in keepsake heart


If we never had

Exchanged brief notes, sealed and stamped

I’d doubt mind…but your

Bold-penned signature below

Few lines is not forgery


Gazing at clouds I

Muse, do you wait for kindred


©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations, 2020 ~ All rights reserved.

NOTE*:  The literal Portuguese translation is implied in my 1st stanza; the common definition, “daydreamer”, in the final stanza.

Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge–July 21, 2020

*Ragtag Community prompt for today is “nefelibata”.  Portuguese in origin, derived from “nefele” (cloud) and “batha” (a place to walk), it literally translates to “cloudwalker”.  Noun – daydreamer; a person lost in imagination; an unorthodox person who doesn’t abide by the rules of society.

Held Hostage

42-Word Prompt: LOST or MORBID (or Both)

Lost in morbid thoughts

Sickening scenes, conflict

I can’t escape (uninvited

Conjured not by conscious

Mind) ~ Obsessed notions

Congregate in numbers

Lazy, loitering ‘mid sleep’s

Labyrinth; cesspool lips

Whisper curses I can’t

Obscure, obliterate ~

Memories hold me

Hostage, won’t pardon

Vacate sentence

©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations, 2020 ~ All rights reserved.

Horror, Devil’s Hounds

This poem uses a haiku form with repeating lines, as used by Ronovan in his piece, “The Quenching Cup” (link follows poem) ~


Horror is devil’s

Hounds dragging Past before me

Fanged jaws snarl warning


Fanged jaws snarl warning

Haunting memories devour

Hopeless heart condemned


Hopeless heart condemned

Feels torment burn, shame’s disdain

Can’t curb Liar’s spew


Can’t curb Liar’s spew

Eternally damned, he froths

Hater of Faithful


Hater of Faithful

Denied God, lost everything

Promised to His own


Promised to His own

Full access to Mercy Seat

The Lord’s throne of grace


The Lord’s throne of grace

Refuge for sore weak, distraught

Escaping fanged jaws


Escaping fanged jaws

I rest within God’s embrace

His love’s joyous peace

©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations, 2020 ~ All rights reserved.

The Quenching Cup – a poem

Shattered Butterfly

Her identity

Portrait pressed behind framed glass…

Shattered butterfly’s

Flaked kaleidoscopic wings

Shine like brass sunset

Shimmered confetti falling

At birthday party, no guests

©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations, 2020 ~ All rights reserved.

Eugi’s Weekly Prompt “Identity” July 13, 2020