who will remove all the weeds? (Troibun)


She sits in her armchair, her feline friend loyally by her side on her comfy bench. A time to think of life past and present not knowing what the future will bring. One lives a life filled with hope as a child, moments of despair as a teen filled with hope and fairy tales, somewhat like a garden. And then becomes an adult and reality settles in…

Adulthood brings puzzlement and how many seeds to plant and how to remove the weeds. Mistakes and suffering only bring more valuable life lessons.

Middle age seeks passion and discernment, finding a bigger terrain that will house the most thriving and nourishing garden. If one is fortunate, they will be rewarded with their dream garden filling all their needs especially that of compassion in helping new seedlings to flourish into beautiful flora despite broken stems or torn leaves.

Such a rich terrain makes room for a harvest filled with her first love since she was a child, to continue nurturing and healing the wounded and broken petals. Discovering such grounds has become her reward and blessing… the end of that road leading to her own fairy tale.

Another phase in the life cycle…one no longer calls the 60’s old age because women and men are usually more active and needed in appreciated in society especially for their hard-earned wisdom. They work well into their 80’s and so she is pleased to continue, still breathing the passion for such toils.

Time passes and she struggles to find the time and energy to tend to young seedlings and perennials overcome with intruders. Such nuisances we call weeds are the consequences of new tillage governed by those who do not understand the true meaning of tending to the heart of a garden, taking time to weed out the bad with care, gently and not intrusive.

Alas, this seasoned gardener is overcome with such changes and unhealthy rules; she strives to tend as best she can…loving every seedling and plant in her tillage that has become her life’s passion. She continues to feel a weight of conflicting rules, she also feels defeated at times and knows not how long her garden will continue to flourish. For now, she perseveres and follows her heart despite the bloody weeds and interference, but for how long before the flowers are overwhelmed by weeds?

tilling the soil
overcome with weeds
twilight enters

tilling the soil
remembering better times
room to grow

overcome with weeds
on her knees praying
for a miracle

twilight enters
clouds hiding harvest moon
seedlings cry in wait

© Tournesol’18/09/20

Daily Moments – Who will remove all the weeds? – Troibun Sept 20/18

Dear Emma, “and what about patience?”

when will the darkness cease
day after day
night after night
light hovers behind rain clouds
trying to rescue her
looking for relief

she reads fiction
the darker kind
thrillers and killers
of demented minds
it’s an escape
her reality is boring
drab, greyish taupe
like the colour of mud

when will the darkness cease
day after day
night after night
light hovers behind rain clouds
trying to rescue her

music tends to rise her spirits
lyrics may not always
bringing her to a darker place
long ago
perhaps unfinished business
ghosts from her past
haunting her day and night
taunting her to give up

her humble abode breathes memories
dead and alive, people who matter
in contradictory salutations
leaving her more confused
riled with shame and blame
fills her soul with guilt

when will the darkness cease
day after day
night after night
light hovers behind rain clouds
trying to rescue her

it all started months ago
her body let her down
joint after joint
abandoning her
leaving her vulnerable
robbing her of so much joy
walking feebly with a cane
worried for another fall,
a sprain, a tear
that heals so slowly

when will the darkness cease
day after day
night after night
light hovers behind rain clouds
trying to rescue her

mind and body
work in tandem
whispering mockingly
awaiting her decline

when did it become
them and me?
when did they become her enemy?

the mind plays tricks
distorted reality
tries to fill her mind
such energy it takes
pushing it away
blocking every crevice of her soul.

They will not win!
she is too smart
and loves life
way too much to give in

she will wait, give it time
her body needs to heal
her soul needs to recuperate
patience is her weapon
compassion and self-love
her antibiotic

when will the darkness cease
day after day
night after night
light hovers behind rain clouds
trying to rescue her
she will use the power of imagery
feel the sun warm her soul
make her mind and body whole.

(c) Cheryl-Lynn 18/09/15

Morning alarm (Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers)

Sparrows chirped in the old oak tree bidding good morning to the neighbourhood.  Soon  life would be intruding on the quiet with dogs barking, children giggling at their bus stop and cars leaving for work. For now,  at such an early hour, only Toby Tyler was riding his bike delivering the morning paper.

Further, down the street a strange car had been parked all night facing the baseball field.  No one had noticed except for Mr. Baker. He always woke up at dawn and walked Bella before reading his paper along with his morning coffee.  Bella stopped to sniff the back tires and started barking.

Suddenly two teens awakened from their late night rendezvous as they peered out the back window.

“Oh shit! We overslept!” (125 words)


© Cheryl-Lynn Roberts’18


Written for: https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2018/09/10/fffaw-challenge-182nd/

Song Lyric Sunday Theme 2 – 9 – 18 FAST CARS by Tracy Chapman

Songs are like time charts mapping out life’s milestones, joys and heartbreaks. The joys remembered the first bars of a song and our brain is wisked back in time with the same elation.  The heartbreaks pull you back  with a heavy heart but not a hopeless one, since you did manage to survive it.  The hard lessons in life are marked by songs as well…so much of our lives are frozen in capsules with musical notes.  Wouldn’t it be amazing writing one’s autobiography through song alone?  And with technology today, the visual would be outstanding!

The first thought that came to mind when I saw the theme for this week’s SongLyricSunday was Fast Cars by Tracy Chapman. The time was February 1995.  It was at that time a 28 year relationship fell apart.  It was a difficult time for all…especially our children.  Teens need stability in their lives and they were being served a huge bowl of chaos.

I had  had Tracy Chapman’s CD for a few years even though it came out in 1988.  I tend to find some singers or bands when I need “that sound” or “that song”. Good music is timeless!   Tracy Chapman, for me, was like my Phoebe Snow.  Their lyrics moved me every time I played them.

I always listened to music but around that time, they kept me company, wrapped me up in a comfy duvet and when it was hot and uncomfortable they felt like Egyptian cotton. I worked at two part time jobs then, and was completing my degree evenings as well. So I lived in my car a lot!  Tracy Chapman carried me through some difficult passages of but also sang along with me as I drove on the highway towards my new life. Fast Cars spoke to me about me and my inner self…transforming slowly.   We were a team and finally, I “…I had a feeling that I belonged, I could be someone…”  Tracy helped me turn the wheel on my new route.

I hope you enjoy this song and if you do, perhaps have another listen to that entire album…each song hits the heartstrings.


[Verse 1]
You got a fast car
I want a ticket to anywhere
Maybe we make a deal
Maybe together we can get somewhere
Any place is better
Starting from zero got nothing to lose
Maybe we’ll make something
Me myself I got nothing to prove

[Verse 2]
You got a fast car
I got a plan to get us outta here
I been working at the convenience store
Managed to save just a little bit of money
Won’t have to drive too far
Just ‘cross the border and into the city
You and I can both get jobs
Finally see what it means to be living

[Verse 3]
See my old man’s got a problem
He lives with a bottle that’s the way it is
I say his body’s too old for working
His body’s too young to looking like his
My momma went off and left him
She wanted more from life than he could give
Said somebody’s gotta take care of him
So I quit school and that’s what I did
You got a fast car
Is it fast enough so we can fly away?
We gotta make a decision
Leave tonight or live and die this way

So I remember when we were driving
Driving in your car
Speed so fast it felt like I was drunk
City lights lay out before us
And your arms felt nice wrapped around my shoulders and
I-I had a feeling that I belonged
I-I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone

[Verse 4]
You got a fast car
We go cruising to entertain ourselves
You still ain’t got a job
I work in a market as a checkout girl
I know things will get better
You’ll find work and I’ll get promoted
We’ll move out of the shelter
Buy a bigger house and live in the suburbs

So I remember when we were driving
Driving in your car
Speed so fast it felt like I was drunk
City lights lay out before us
And your arms felt nice wrapped around my shoulders and
I-I had a feeling that I belonged
I-I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone


[Verse 5]
You got a fast car
I’ve got a job that pays all our bills
You stay out drinking late at the bars
See more your friends than you do your kids
I always hoped for better
That maybe together you and me would find it
I got no plans I ain’t going nowhere
So take your fast car and keep on driving

So remember when we were driving
Driving in your car
Speed so fast it felt like I was drunk
City lights lay out before us
And your arms felt nice wrapped around my shoulders and
I-I had a feeling that I belonged
I-I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone

You got a fast car
Is it fast enough so you can fly away?
You gotta make a decision
Leave tonight or live and die this way

© Tracy Chapman ‘1988



Posted for Song Lyric Sunday Theme 9 2 18  

Happy birthday A.C. Love, Mom xxxxooo



Here is a poem AC gave the family for Easter when she was in kindergarten. On the card it reads, “Retold by AC”

The air is like a butterfly
with frail blue wings
the happy earth looks at the sky
and sings

Today, I sit and think of her with loving thoughts. It is her birthday today, on August 31st …my baby is no longer a baby but a blue butterfly that sings…

baby girl born
filled with innocence
air so pure

baby girl born
always a baby in eyes
of a mother

filled with innocence
shedding day by day
butterfly wings

air so pure
like the sound of her voice
when she sings


life’s goodies
filled with spice – and,
everything nice

to my daughter, my blue butterfly,

Happy Birthday

with love,



cycle of life (Troibun)

She loves this time of year. Flowers are in bloom overflowing in gardens. Four more weeks admiring the golds, lavender and magenta before leaves start their own autumn performance.

overgrown gardens
hanging on
until death befalls

overgrown gardens
with beauty

hanging on
caterpillar on a twig
transforms with wings

until death befalls
petals dress the grounds
under falling leaves

© Tournesol ‘18/08/20

Daily Moments August 20 2018  and Haiku Horizons.

visit from an old friend (Flash Fiction)

(c) Huffing Post Guillermo Diaz (Huck from Scandal)

The man had a thick brown beard that hid his face and neck.  His small brown eyes were hidden under his bushy eyebrows.  He was not tall and for North American standards, he was leaning towards short.  The man walked with a purpose like a bear searching for his prey.  Not a sound, not an expression, just bland apathy painted on his face. 

I hid behind the couch with my friend looking out at this strange man who had already kidnapped four of my friends and a baby.  The police had been contacted by the man but I never heard anything from them. 

My friend refused to run with me saying it was no use and she feared the man would only get more agitated and shoot us.   

I refused to give in without a fight, so I ran out the back door, jumped into my car and drove off to my old apartment where I had lived ten years ago.  The superintendent recognized me as I ran to him telling him I had to hide somewhere safe.  We went up to the sixth floor and looked out the window of his brother’s condo.  The bearded man had followed me.  I had to run again. I was running out of options. My heart beat so quickly, I thought I was going to have a heart attack.  Then, I remembered the secret hallway on this floor.  The superintendent knew my plan the moment I ran towards that hallway and told me to take his car, handing me his keys.  He said his car was where he always parked and he would try to slow the bearded man to give me a head start. 

The hallway brought me to a fire escape which landed behind two brown dumpsters.   The super’s car was there and I drove out the private exit that only the firemen were allowed entry.   I had no idea where I could hide.  I didn’t want to go to my workplace downtown to put my colleagues at risk.  My car was going west out of an old habit, towards the airport and then I thought of Rick.  No one knew of my past employment there.  It was too long ago and the warehouse would be a great place to hide so I could get in contact with the police. 

I drove to the side entrance of the warehouse and the huge doors were open, so I parked my car inside and screamed, “We have to lock down now!”   The shipper recognized me and buzzed Rick as he closed all doors.  I hid between the racks of nuts and bolts, too afraid to be seen in the front office.   

Suddenly I was in the office and so many people crowding around me with concern on their faces.  I briefly told Rick and asked if he could let me stay there. I went into his office and called the detective who was in charge of the case.  Detective No Name said to sit tight, that his men were still negotiating and told me not to worry.   

“Not worry!! It has been 36 hours and five people have been kidnapped and still nothing! What are you doing to about this?”   

Detective No Name explained he had other more urgent cases he was working on…his voice trailed and I yelled, “What is the amount of the ransom?” I was contemplating that I might be able to borrow from my mother’s house not yet sold and there is a little bit left in her estate.  I was wondering how many hundreds of thousands of dollars the ransom could be and discouragement started to weigh on me. 

“The kidnapper is asking for $3,000.00”.   

WHAT?!!! All this trouble for so little money?!!” I could not believe my ears. What kind of desperate person kidnaps so many people for $3,000?    

“Let me just pay it! Why can’t I just speak to the kidnapper when he calls you?  Do you know how many lives are at stake right now…how f*&^g stupid are you guys?!” 

My eyes adjusted to the darkness and I rolled over trying to get back to sleep to visit with Rick. 

(c) Cheryl-Lynn ’18/08/19


Author’s note: The bearded man looked exactly like , Huck, a character in the series Scandal.  Rick was my employer and friend when I first moved to Toronto.  He and his family made such a difference in my adjusting to my move away from home in the late 90’s.  A year after I left his employment, I got a call at work from an employee at his warehouse that he was tragically killed in a biking accident…such a  tragedy for a young man in his early 30’s.  I still think about him.  I feel blessed that I still am in contact with his family and twin sister from time to time. 

I often get odd dreams with my mom or grandmother but this is the first time Rick has ever visited me in a dream.  I could never get him back when I went back to sleep, only Mister Beard kept turning up. 

Dear Emma (haibun)

I wrote a post this afternoon to you, Emma,  but cyberspace was very hungry, I guess, and it ate the whole darn thing!  Let’s see.  I was telling you about my plans to visit two amazing friends.  One I can only see once a year when she comes from Brazil to visit her daughter in Toronto.  The other is a friendship that grew over time who I will also be visiting in Ontario.

I met my friend from Brazil through an old boyfriend and we connected immediately.  I felt we were like soulmates.   I guess there is nothing to explain that…it is a feeling you get with some rare and unique people in a lifetime.

Each time I spend time with this friend, I grow on so many levels.  She is an artist as well as a therapist and so since I cannot draw, I paint my canvas with words and am also a counsellor.  We have children of similar ages and share starting life over, or ending it (however you want to look at it) on our own, like big girls.

My other friend is brilliant, creative, rational and warm.  Where I am touchy freely, she is artistic and a doer.  I admire her tenacity and although life has thrown her several curved balls, she has succeeded in ways, I am not sure I could have.  Her strength is what also sustains me. We connected first at work and I felt inclined to share my poetry with her right from the beginning.  Our friendship just blossomed over time.

After spending time with these two amazing women, on my drive or train ride back home, I feel so inspired and have the urge to write about it.  I feel I grow creatively, spiritually, emotionally, intellectually and physically because I feel a bit taller, sticking my chest out and holding my head up high.  I so look forward to seeing them both next week.

Well, Emma, I don’t think I told it like it was on my first draft but the essence is there. Thanks for listening, as always.

seasoned minds
sharing life
past and present

past and present
fears and joys shared
future in between

(c) Cheryl-Lynn


trying to ignore despicable people ( haibun) daily moments Aug 17/18


Today, I was disappointed to see some tasteless articles and video clips on Aretha’s past. And I’m not talking about singing. I was upset that some people ( not only the media) like to find sad or bad things that happened in her life. So I looked for a biography of her, I had seen her talk about with Oprah and another reporter. She was asked about David Ritz’s autobiography he wrote later and she adamantly said they were all lies. Whether that is true or not is not my place to judge but to respect Aretha….period.

As I was reading the reviews it really pissed me off how some people were expecting Aretha to spill out very private things as if a celebrity owes this to her fans. Well they don’t! I feel this is illogical…NO! it is despicable!

Why not heed her mantra R E S P E C T?

I purchased Aretha’s book, Aretha from these Roots then spent the rest of the day finishing a series of poems for her and watched videos of her until dinner.

It was fitting that it rained today…

Angels cried
World’s loss of their queen
from heaven

© Tournesol’18/08/17.

Daily moments – trying to ignore despicable minds ( haibun)

Written for Linda Hill’s Friday Reminder for Stream of Consciousness Saturday

the Queen of Soul (troiku) Daily moments August 15/18

vinyl whirling
echoes of Aretha
comin home

vinyl whirling
Motown of the sixties
melting the heart

echoes of Aretha
like honey to bees
sweetening the soul

coming home
under her spell,
links to my youth

© Touronesol ‘18/08/16


“I Say A Little Prayer”

The moment I wake up
Before I put on my makeup
I say a little prayer for you
While combing my hair now
And wondering what dress to wear now
I say a little prayer for youForever and ever, you’ll stay in my heart
And I will love you
Forever and ever, we never will part
Oh, how I love you
Together, forever, that’s how it must be
To live without you
Would only mean heartbreak for me

I run for the bus, dear
While riding I think of us, dear
I say a little prayer for you
At work I just take time
And all through my coffee break time
I say a little prayer for you

Forever and ever, you’ll stay in my heart
And I will love you
Forever and ever we never will part
Oh, how I’ll love you
Together, forever, that’s how it must be
To live without you
Would only mean heartbreak for me

I say a little prayer for you
I say a little prayer for you

My darling, believe me
(Believe me)
For me there is no one but you
Please love me too
(Answer my prayer)
And I’m in love with you
(Answer my prayer)
Answer my prayer now, babe
(Answer my prayer)

Forever and ever, you’ll stay in my heart
And I will love you
Forever and ever we never will part
Oh, how I’ll love you
Together, forever, that’s how it must be
To live without you
Would only mean heartbreak for me


Isle Lasonde  (Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers)


This is the photo to inspire the flash fiction    (c)Ted Strutz


The Ferry blared its horn.  Jillian sighed as the children were getting restless already!

“Give me that!” squealed Leslie.

“Try and get it, whiner!” Sidney raised the stuffed teddy out the car window with a smirk on his adolescent face.


Jillian turned her head and gave Sidney, “The LOOK”. He shrugged and threw the teddy back on Leslie’s lap.

“Sidney, you promised to help me today.”

He looked down at his hands, hating to disappoint his mom, especially today.

Once they boarded the ferry, Sidney asked if  he could bring his sister up on deck promising to hold her hand.   Jillian felt a pang of remorse for being so demanding on her eldest child.   She promised herself to bring them to the Reservoir for lunch later when they returned inland.  The children loved feeding the swans and ducks there.

Twenty minutes later, the ferry was already approaching Isle Lasonde.   There were only three federal buildings and a military camp on the island.  They were going to a parole hearing at le Pénitencier Lasonde. (174 words)

© Cheryl-Lynn Roberts ’18/08/15

Written for the Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers   100 to 150 +/- 25 word flash fiction.



mind over matter (haibun)

© Northern Lights – Alien Study

Hot, heavy dampness hangs in the air, as she rocks in front of her window looking out over the river. The air conditioner is on the fritz again and the fans that had been running 24/7 give little breeze to comfort even an ant.  The temperatures are unforgiving at 40C and 92% humidity.

The house is silent except for the creaking of her rocking chair and the buzz of useless fans. Her breathing has finally calmed after her morning paroxysm of asthma. The weather in the past few weeks has forced her to use up all her sick days. She does not know how she will manage now with the weeks ahead if she is  unable to get to work…again. Her wheezing becomes louder and she knows she has to calm her thoughts or else she will have another asthma attack.

She often tries to use her imagery times like this. Placing a wet cold compress on her forehead she imagines she is in the Northwest Territories, hearing the crunchy sound of her feet on the snow as she walks outside. She is dressed in a down filled parka and snow pants and white clouds escape her mouth when she exhales. Night has already fallen and she waits patiently for signs from “the other side”. Looking up at the sky, she starts noticing the different hues lighting up the heavens and she is dizzy with joy;  she kneels in reverence, listening to the echoes of her ancestors. A veil of calm envelopes her until a piercing whistle from her tea kettle brings her back to reality.

lighting up the skies
blues, pinks and green waver
message from beyond
living in comfort
in her mind’s eye

(c) Tournesol’18/09/13

Written for: Mindlovemiserysmenagerie and Wordle

Calescent ((adj.) growing warm; increasing in heat)
Paroxysm ((n.) any sudden, violent outburst; a fit of violent action or emotion: a severe attack or a sudden increase in intensity of a disease)
Tea Kettle

Bonus word: Sick Day



Solitary fuel A Cherita Daily Moments August 12 2018

Street Art, de Gaspé, Montréal, Qc. – Cheryl-Lynn

A Cherita

solitude is so misunderstood

many equate it to depression and loneliness
even if the person embraces her aloneness

so many people try to understand equating it sometimes to depression
but having not worn the same shoes
how can anyone really know?


solitude is synonymous to emptiness, so why does it feed me?

solitude gives me energy
weathering another day

all consuming
yet nurturing
life simply goes on

(c) Cheryl-Lynn Roberts

August 12, 1018

Daily Moments  August 12 2019  Melancholy soulmate Troibun


The sun poked through the drapes of her bedroom but she refused to accept daylight, turning over and allowing the darkness of her duvet to shield her from the living.

She had started a paranormal romance the day before and her dreams were mixed with romance and family stories. It was very confusing as her life intermingled with the novel and frankly, kept her quite busy all night. The darkness is what clung to her mostly and comforted her at the same time.

Finally, she got up and fed her hungry feline friend, made a pot of coffee and sat down to finish the novel. It was a nice escape from her life and her melancholy, her soulmate for many years.

When the sun slipped below the horizon, she shivered slightly and just stared out the window… numb. The silence seemed to sooth her.

(A Troiku)

wrapped in darkness
tending to her solitude
soft grey grimness

wrapped in darkness
seeing light

tending to her solitude
enveloped in safety

soft grey grimness
like a dear old friend
comforting her

(c) Tournesol ’18/09/12

Daily Moments  August 12 2019  Melancholy soulmate  Troibun


Usually when I start reading a book written by a fellow blogger, I put up the book and subtitle “Currently reading” but this one I read too quickly!! That says a lot about the author, Linda Hill.  


The Magician's Curse: A Paranormal Romance The Great Dagmaru Book 1 by [Hill, Linda G.]

I have been selective in my reading in the past 5 years since I started blogging and love reading the works of some bloggers who have become so much more than virtual bloggers to me. Linda Hill is a woman who I admire for all that she does, as a full-time mom of three, writing books and novellas, writing prompts and encouraging other writers! She is a wonderful part of our WordPress community!

Had I known the young love of the magician was just a teen, I would have started reading sooner, being a youth counsellor for a National youth helpline.

Such a romantic fifty’s style novel with a chance meeting on a train, finding true love, not knowing what mysteries are behind this handsome magician! It is a timeless novel that seduces the reader to read on.

I had not read a romance novel in decades but having read Linda Hill’s book, All Good Stories a while back, I was totally entertained with her writing style that I completed it in an afternoon.

I knew, then, I had to read Linda’s Magician’s Curse, because I love her writing style. Although I know how skittish I can be with paranormal stories or novels, remembering how scared I was reading the Mayfair Witches by Alice Rice and Needful Things by Stephen King but, it was their writing that drew me in just as Linda Hill’s writing did, once again.

I started reading, The Magician’s Curse: A Paranormal Romance The Great Dagmaru Book 1, yesterday and after Chapter 2 I was hooked! I just finished it this afternoon.

The Magician’s Curse has just enough suspense and the pacing is perfect so the reader has time to catch up; there is romance, erotica (bravo, Linda, got me a tingling all over!) and more than a love story but a family’s saga brought down from generation to generation, you want to know more and more about, so you just have to read the The Magician’s Blood, Book 2.

Cheryl-Lynn Roberts 18/09/12

Bodily functions (SoCS)

A chat about bodily functions is our prompt today at Linda Hill’s SoCS, which brought to mind a funny story.  When my daughter was pregnant in 2004, I was starting menopause.  We would go shopping together and suddenly she would let out gas and then move aisle very quickly whispering to me why. We would giggle because I was starting the same problem.  So here we were at both ends of the spectrum of womanhood, farting away at our leisure and not caring at all.  Is fart a bad word, by the way?  I am part French, so we are bit more open about our language and translated in English may sound rude, so I apologize if that is not easy to read.

On to another memory with my daughter again seeing her singing in The South Shore Children’s Chorus.  The choir would sing songs from Les Miserable and they sounded so beautiful that I could not hold back my tears.  At the end of the show, she came up to me, tight lipped and squinting eyes, asking why I was crying!  I tried to explain to her that when Mommy is overwhelmed with beauty, I am moved to tears.  Well! this 10-year-old was having nothing of it.  On future presentations, I sat further away so she would not see me weep of joy.  What can I say?  I cry when I am happy, moved, tired of pain and sad.

Now lastly, since I have been struggling so much over the years and even more so in the past two years, my joint pain is something I dream of finding relief EVEN if it were for once a week. Once a week not having the pain wake me up when I roll over. Once a week when I get up, I don’t feel knives jabbing in my knees.  For over thirty years I was diagnosed with osteoarthritis of my neck along with Fibromyalgia. Finally, I found a rheumatologist who found I had rheumatism on my collar bones (hence why my shoulders hurt so much and is not because I type too much), a mix of osteoarthritis, arthritis and rheumatism made me sigh with relief because those conditions are considered more real than Fibromyalgia (in society and the medical field).   The sad part is my GP does not want to treat me, just suggests I retire which has no way of making my body feel better and I am waiting for a new rheumatologist since the other one moved.

But, on a good note, I am hopeful.  Last May I went to Vancouver, BC. where cannabis is sold in many shops and purchased a jar of MJ cream to see if that might relieve the pain. It did nothing but  a tiny tingle on my neck, nothing on my knees or shoulders.   So, when I came back to Montreal, I asked my GP if she would consider giving me a prescription for cannabis.  That was June 20th and I only received a response from one dispensary in response to my request for membership along with my doctor’s prescription.  They certainly took their time.  But I want to try different things to find some relief. When I say try something, I certainly am not interested in the THC high however I realize in some of the teas or creams have to have a little bit.  Well, we shall see when I drop by sometime this week to check out Club Compassion.  Wish me luck!

(c) Cheryl-Lynn Roberts


Written for the Friday Prompt for Saturday’s Stream of Consciousness.

Daily moments escaping dreams August 11 2018 (troibun)


At four in the morning, she rose with a huge sigh of relief looking around her bedroom. Her thoughts still in her adventuresome dream. She lay back, hoping to find some peace. Tossing and turning her feline friend left her side for a calmer bed.

A piercing alarm startled her awake and she lay quietly trying to collect herself. Was this a dream she had? Someone was trying to kill her and the environment was so chaotic. Suddenly it became a beauty salon with clothes scattered on the floor. All was quite frightening until an old friend she had not seen in a decade walks in nonchalantly. He remains quiet yet the atmosphere felt safer.

chasing her
slumber’s clutch

into nightmares

chasing her
running frantically
in thin air

slumber’s clutch
changing screenplays
amid sleep cycles

© Tournesol ‘18/09/11

Daily moments escaping dreams August 11 2018

Daily moments – end of week treat (haibun)



Daily reflections end of week treat Haibun

This week has not been easy at work and I only had 3 days to work!! Today is day 3 and it is a little better. With the heat and humidity, our office, again, was stuck with no AC. Yep, that is correct. The building manager sent a maintenance guy up on Tuesday who I saw up on a ladder checking out the ceiling. His prognosis (if I can call it that) was that someone in our office called up a maintenance guy to SHUT OFF all the vents. Really?!! That is the friggin[I am so polite to say friggin] excuse they gave us.

And so I have an industrial fan next to my workstation that is constantly on. Can you imagine the sound of that while taking calls? I mean these are often crisis calls. Well, Tuesday, I was feeling ill slowly and finally stayed even an hour late but when I got home, I was so happy to be in my AC cooled apartment and this year I even have one in my bedroom. But Wednesday morning, I was not feeling too good…I kept snoozing the alarm and finally got up at noonish and got to work 5 mins late. I had supervision as soon as I was getting in to boot. Fortunately, I do have a very understanding supervisor. He got it that the hot humid weather is affecting me especially my migraines. By the end of the shift it was getting about two degrees cooler…like 26 to 27C and no longer 29.

Today was the same struggle getting up as I had another migraine. I kept snoozing the phone at least 10 times. I know , silly, right?! Even my cat, Bette, was getting agitated jumping onto my bed meowing and insisting I start paying attention to her before I left for work. So I finally got up, and decided not to make a lunch but just bring fruit and treat myself tonight during my lunch break (lunch means between 5pm. To 7pm for evening workers).

And so here I am sitting at the Green Panther savouring a Falafel with a cuppa coffee with soy milk and the piece de resistance is my Chewapy cookie which is shortbread with cashew and cranberries. I will bring that back to the office and in between calls or my last break I will inhale with my coffee. A really nice way to finish off my work week.

This is for Linda Hill’s Friday Reminder of Saturday’s Stream of Conciousness….I am a bit late but I am enjoying writing this at this cool Vegan restaurant.

Sipping java
Breaking away from a sad call
Inspired to write

© Tournesol ’18–09-09

Plain Jane (troibun) Daily moments Aug.9/18

It was another hot and humid day. Commuters boarded the bus one by one, quiet and as soon as one sat down, they slid open a window next to or above them. Even open, there was no air. One older woman sat at the back and got her oriental fan out. The woman continued fanning until the bus crossed the bridge and a slight breeze came off the river.

Another woman who had sat on the side changed seat to sit higher up. Perhaps to be closer to the window and feel a bit of wind. A piece of brown hand paper was sticking out of her nose. It looked like she was trying to control a nosebleed. Her wet shoulder length blonde hair was pulled back in a pony tail. She had extra big sunglasses on. There was something about her. It looked like she had black eyeliner and it was a really thick line. She looked stoic, not reading or listening to music like many commuters…just staring out the window in front of her.

Just as the bus entered the terminal, the blonde tilted to the left and one could see she had a very black eye and it was not makeup. Getting off the bus, she disappeared in a sea of commuters.

Hidden in a crowd
One in a million faces

Hidden in a crowd
To each his own

One in a million faces
Who can pick out the victims
Suffering in silence

Feeling safe playing Plain Jane
No one sees her

©Tournesol ’18-09-08
Daily moments Plain Jane. Troibun

Heeding Haiku with Chevrefeuille – we are asked to write a Troiku created by Chevrefeuille.`

Dear Emma, and a Cherita

Dear Emma,

When I was a child, I remember picking up my bellbottom pants at the dressmaker one time. In the early 60’s I could not find any kind of long pants or jeans that were long enough and slim enough. In those days, Marilyn Monroe was the fashionable shape. Although Twiggy was slowly becoming a trend, in my part of the world, it was still more common for women to be shorter and curvier. Alas, I was pretty much a straight line more like Olive Oil at between twelve and fourteen.

Another client was just leaving the dressmaker as I was entering and she asked me how my mother and grandmother were doing. Of course, I shared the latest updates on my newly divorced mother and lifesaver grandmother who had taken us in not realizing I may have been a bit too open. Being naïve, then, was just assuming that people always inquired about you because they cared.

I remember trying on the charcoal grey bellbottoms and was so excited they fit like a glove and were long enough to wear with a boot or higher healed show. That was the beauty of tailor made clothes. Fortunately, her fees were very reasonable and in fact, less expensive than going to a designer shop to purchase clothes.

As I was leaving, the dressmaker looked at me seriously and said, “You must be careful. You are such an open book and you never know the true intentions of people when inquiring about you and your family.” I could tell she was concerned for me and I always tried to remember her wise words, but still, it is still difficult for me to think anyone would want to hurt me intentionally. And so years went by and I learned the hard way. I find learning through life experience teaches more, don’t you? What have you learned better through experience rather than through teachings of another person?

( a cherita)

a child runs freely through the woods

Stumbling on hidden roots and branches
Scraping arms and knees along the way

Fastforward several decades
Walking through the woods, listening to the birds singing
Leaves rustling, she leans on her walking stick

© Cheryl-Lynn ‘18/09/06

Daily Moments with Emma – August 9th, 2018

How I wish that I could sing (free verse)

Cher (real name: Cherylyn)


How I wish that I could sing
Deep feelings that I hold
Find the lyrics that rhyme
With the rhythm in my soul

But I cannot keep a tune
Without making someone cringe
Eardrums might just ruin
I am here on the fringe
Writing words that I’ve rehearsed
Forms of poetry and free verse

How I wish that I could draw
Images of my dreams
Thoughts uncensored and raw
In my mind I can hear them scream
But I cannot draw a straight line
only drawings like a toddler’s
shaky hand sketches of no design

I’d never even make a dollar
But for some words that I’ve rehearsed
Forms of poetry and free verse.
How I wish that I could sing
The thoughts echo in my heart
Images float inside my mind
But only words can share the part
Of how I truly feel inside,
The love, the sadness
The joy, the solitude
The suffering ,then the gratitude
Everything life has taught me

How I wish that I could sing
Deep feelings that I hold
Find the lyrics that rhyme
Wih the rhythm in my soul

But I cannot keep a tune
Without making someone cringe
Eardrums might just ruin
I am here on the fringe
Writing words that I’ve rehearsed
Forms of poetry and free verse

How I wish that I could draw
Images of my dreams
Thoughts uncensored and raw
In my mind I hear them scream

But I cannot draw a straight line
only drawings like a toddler’s
shaky hand sketches of no design
I’d never even make a dollar
But for some words that I’ve rehearsed
Of micro poetry and free verse.

How I wish that I could sing
The thoughts echo in my heart
Images float inside my mind
But only words can share the part
Of how I truly feel inside
The love, the sadness
The joy, the solitude
The suffering , but then the gratitude
Everything life has taught me
How I wish that I could sing.
How I wish that I could sing

© Cheryl-Lynn Daily Reflections August 6, 2018

Daily Moments – August 6/18 sleepless summer nights (troiku) 

(c) Tournesol’18/09/06

Mid-summer night

Only weeping willows sleep

lulled by cicadas


Mid-summer night

On stars feel a breeze

Little Prince smiles


Only weeping willows sleep

Still, like their tenants

Mother’s resting ground


Lulled by cicadas

Nature’s lullaby

Hoot of an owl


(c) Tournesol ’18/09/06

Daily Moments – August 6/18 sleepless summer nights (troiku)

mile high ride (haibun)

Sitting in the back of the plane, they held tight during take off. As soon as the light went on to unbuckle the seat-belt, they both lit up their Mark Ten cigarettes. It was 1977 and people could still smoke in the back rows of a plane in those days.

It was their first trip overseas. Heck, it was their first time in a plane. They had booked a tour of England, Scotland and Wales for two weeks. The wife’s ulterior motive was to conceive their first child in the UK, the birthplace of her paternal grandparents.

After a few hours, the plane felt like it was going over pot holes on Quebec roads. The couple were scared and did not realize that turbulence can do that but does not mean there was any danger. The woman seated next to them on the aisle tried to reassure the couple who looked out the window with doe eyes. One could not mistake it was their very trip in the air.

By the time they arrived at Heathrow Airport, they were so relieved they had landed! They still had to take the train into London, then a taxi to their hotel. They were staying at the Green Park Hotel just across the park that brings you to Buckingham Palace. But they didn’t know that yet.

They looked like typical tourists walking on the streets of London, hesitating crossing the the street, not knowing which side to look in their matching bright yellow and green hoodies.

Cotton candy ride
Bumper cars, roller-coasters
Crossing overseas

© Tournesol ‘18/09/06

Sunday Brunch – Troiku

They met for brunch at Ricardo’s Café. It was a new place for both of them. How she felt her mother’s presence when they walked into the kitchen store part. All the dishes, bowls, table clothes and special accessories to decorate a table. Mom loves walking around in a store like this. For a moment, she felt she was in Knowlton just shopping unitl they would sit at a café for a light lunch and coffee…maybe even a beer or a glass of wine!

Now she was experiencing this new place with a friend. They talked like they knew each other for years…laughed a bit, cried a bit like women who get to the heart of things and truly communicate, then giggled like excited teenagers. A perfect afternoon.

Good food
Excellent company
Brunch with a friend

Good food
Heals what ails you
Topped with fudge sauce

Excellent company
Being present when it counts
Then giggling like teens

Brunch with a friend

Fills the tummy,
Warms the heart

© Tournesol’18-9-05 

Daily Moments August 5, 2018

invisible people (haibun) Daily Moments July 31/18

Image may contain: one or more people, tree and outdoor

It was a perfect day. The sky was blue, the sun was warm and there was a lovely breeze. It was perfect if you were not walking too fast, of course, since at 30C one must walk casually not strutting and certainly not in a run.

She left for the city at 7 :30 am to pass some tests at the hospital which took 3 hours and then walked slowly to the closest mall near her next doctor’s appointment, The Alexis Nixon Plaza. Walking around from store to store was just to pass the time and NOT fall asleep sitting anywhere. She had about 3 hours sleep last night, since she is so unaccustomed to getting up early in the morning.

Her first doctor’s appointment was only about 30 mins wait and she chatted with the woman next to her. Her doctor noticed she chats with everyone and she told her, ‘’Well, that’s what we do in small towns!’’ Again the woman sitting next to her was from Chile just like the woman who sat next to her two weeks ago!! She has been meeting people from Chile …her son’s bride is from Chile too.

Her doctor adjusted her medications and the secretary told her to go for a walk and relax and come back in an hour or so since the next appointment was not for another 2 hours. She hesitated at first, not wanting to face the hot humid air but decided she had p,entry of time to walk very slowly and be back I. time.

She sat at the coffee shop facing her old university. How she had spent hours here before classes and especially after classes years ago! She listened to a young man play the piano outside…he seemed to be improvising and he was really into it! It is nice that the city has these pianos placed all over the city near subway stations.

Her eyes were getting heavy and she wished she could just lie down for a few minutes. After her doctor’s appointment she was meeting her friend for dinner. She had not seen her in months and they were well overdue for this get together. Just thinking about it was waking her up now….time to walk back slowly to the Doctor’s office.

Watching commuters
Office workers, summer students
Regulars too

Regulars too
Fill the day people watching
Calling out, « Spare change? »

Calling out, « Spare change? »
Meet-ups and group hugs
A homeless man naps

© Tournesol ’18-07-31

Daily Moments July 31st 2018 –

Daily Moments July 28 2018 Ebony hair [haibun]


Image may contain: flower, plant and nature
(c) Clr ’18

Daily Moments ebony hair Haibun

She passes flowers that remind her of a dear friend. Her friend’s family home used to be next door and tall flowers surrounded their swimming pool. She takes a few steps back to admire the flowers in this stranger’s garden, reminiscing of the happiest times when her children were little.

She notices a daisy set apart from the other lilac petals. Hmmm, she thought. “Daisies are my favourite flowers. I wonder if this is a sign that my friend is also thinking of me today.” That thought puts a smile on her face.

Continuing on her way to work, she keeps this reverie in her mind’s eye. She can hear the giggles, splashing and see herself sitting on the patio with her friend with a cuppa and a ciggie. Good times…good times.

Delicate petals
Bring her back in time
When her friend was here

Delicate petals
Around the swimming pool
Getting splashed

delicate petals
Children diving and giggling
Her friend was still here

Pale fragile petals
Contrast her ebony hair
Her friend’s warm smile

© Tournesol ’18/07/28

Daily Moments – ebony hair (senryu)

rainy afternoon (troibun)

Image may contain: tree, sky, car, plant, outdoor and nature

She does not feel bad about the sun hiding behind the clouds for a few days with the scorching sun all last week, her skin could use a break.

Looking outside at the all the cars parked at the mall stuns her. On a Sunday afternoon, she remembers rainy days even at the trailer by the lake, reading a good book, writing a letter or journal and the children playing board games. If it was warm enough, you could go out in the rain and just enjoy the freedom of walking on the wet grass and allow it to tickle your feet and giggle like a kid again.

Rainy days are good for so many things “besides shopping”. Do you remember making love in a tent on a rainy day…hearing only the sounds of each other’s breathing and the pitter patter of the rain on the canvas. [she sighs a moment, remembering…]

But today many need to get out, she guesses. People watching can be interesting. That is one thing she enjoyed doing especially on cold winter days, sitting in a coffee shop and people watch. But not today, she has settled in her mother’s rocker with ice packs on her neck, shoulders, knee and back, writing on her blog today. But the rain does explain her aches and pains as well…looks like she will be carrying ice packs to work this week too. [she winces at the thought of her aching body making her feel 90] Well, as long as her heart is still 30 something and many times 10 something [those moments when she wants to swing on a swing or skip like a kid again] Ah, those feelings never go away you know. Society just expects older folks to shuffle their feet, grunt here and there, wheeze and grumble but in every person over 60 to 102, there is always the child who keeps on ticking like an Eveready battery. That child still has dreams, hopes and fantasizes more than you know.

Sun shies away
clouds spilling over
Cleansing the land

Sun shies away
on grey billows

Clouds spilling over
Forming puddles
Bird baths

Cleansing the land
Wind and rain collaborate
Hear the leaves sigh

© Tournesol’18/07/22

July 14th, Daily moments – thunder (haibun)

(c) Clr’18 Punta de Mita

Watching the rolling waves after the thunder storm, soothing to the ear but still heavy with dampness.  My forehead dripped and my breathing slowed. Still, leaning on the railing I looked at the magnificent performance take place…just for me.

Hear them laugh
In the middle of the night
Chasing petticoats
Giddy as can be
White ruffles of the sea

(c) Tournesol ’18/07/14

July 15, Daily moments – Nature rules

79649214-21ED-42AD-8D03-28DC700AC860(c) Clr’18 Punta de Mita


Two days out in the sun ONLY when she went in the ocean was enough to protect her body with more than SPF 60 but a long sleeve shirt and the shade when out of the water.  Perhaps her skin has changed or the hot tropical sun does not agree with her. However you look at it, nature rules and when Mother Nature says to BEWARE, heed her words. She did, she will.

Not a day of rain except for late evenings did not give her a break from the scorching sun. And so she took this as an opportunity to embrace her time to sit on her balcony facing the ocean.  Just to hear the waves rolling in and out was soothing enough to heal even the worse sunburns.

The waves were bigger this morning.

Sound of boulders roll
Floating on a water bed
Swaddled by the waves

(c) Tournesol ’18/07/15

Daily moments – finally writing

I have not been writing for quite some time.   I find it more difficult writing on my iPad even if I purchased a few keyboards.  It is just not the same as a laptop. I wanted to purchase a Mac Air but I have spent so much lately. My trip to Mexico for my son’s wedding, clothes and wedding gift…so I thought since my 8 yr old laptop died, I just wanted a very light weight and inexpensive, so I bought a Chromebook Asus. Perfect…hardly any memory at the price I paid but I don’t need any since I save everything on my cloud . 

I am quite pleased with this purchase among many other clothing purchases I have made all ON SALE! My mother educated me well on sales [chuckles]  I could not help but think of her especially when I was shopping at Taylors which was one of her favourite stores. There are only 5 in Quebec…four on the South Shore and one in Granby, in the Eastern Townships.  I went across the street to the Mall to get one dress for the brief wedding ceremony performed at Fort Chambly outside by a Notary because the legal marriage cannot be done in Mexico. It was just the immediate family and so lovey at the Fort on a glorious sunny day and the pictures of the rapids made it even more special.  My children were raised in Chambly so it made it even more special they they chose this spot. 

So back to my shopping. I went downtown in Montreal two weeks ago and found some tops and pants but I was not really impressed.  I knew there were a few items at Taylors I wanted but found it too expensive. Already one dress was above my usual spending budget.  Anyway I decided to go the first Taylors that is in Saint Lambert. Little did I know that the summer sales had begun!!! So I purchased two outfits and one is definitely the dress I will be wearing at the wedding ceremony in Mexico, 

This heat has not been easy this past week though. In fact, our offices’ AC was not functioning properly and working at 30C is not easy especially since we work on a crisis line…comfort is certainly appreciated.  Even more appreciated was that the supervisors understood and management shut down the offices in Montreal for two days so our other centres had to pick up the slack. I felt bad for them though. 

Today I woke up nauseous from a migraine and fighting a head cold. It took a few hours before the migraine meds kicked in and I walked to the drug store to pick up some things for my trip.  I sure hope I don’t have a problem with the food…I know, I know, I heard not to drink the water and peel fruits before eating.  I had food poisoning three weeks and my tummy is still sensitive. All my meals have been based on white rice or quinoa.  Good think I love rice! 

I played around with my laptop when I got back to download a few apps and the time just flew. By nine o’clock, I finally had sup’, which was my first meal of the day.  (I don’t eat much when I have a headache).   I do prefer eating later though, so I don’t much all evening…well, not as much.[she chuckles at her own joke!] 

And that is what I have to say in one stream of consciousness for this week’s prompt at Linda Hill’s Saturday’s Stream of Consciousness which is “sup”.   

© Cheryl-Lynn ‘18/07/07 

Written for Linda Hill’s Saturday Stream of Conciousness 


who’s sorry now? (Troiku + Cherita) Daily Moments

She arrived at work over two hours earlier than usual since she had appointments in the morning. Taking her time to settle at her workstation, she fires up her computer and decides to listen to some music on Youtube. This week is the Montreal International Jazz Festival and what better occasion to listen to jazz.
They were entering their first heatwave, so she started by listening to Summertime by Ella the Queen of Jazz and Soul along with other versions getting her acquainted to more singers and musicians. She vacillated from older masters of Jazz to today’s artists allowing the music to of another time carry her…

For the past few years, I am so mesmerized by this singer.

swept away
Coltrane whines mournfully
recalling another time

swept away
Unforgettable lines
crooned by Cole

Coltrane whines mournfully
piercing deep
into her soul

recalling another time
replaying over and over
Who’s Sorry Now



Daily Moments – Jazzy afternoon (troiku)


Who’s Sorry Now (A Cherita)

music brings her back seeing her heartbroken mother for months

coming home after school
remembering on the darkness with shades pulled down

hearing the sobbing voice
Connie Frances moans over and over and over
that unrelenting turntable


©Tournesol ’18/06/29

A birthday Cherita…


Today we honour my mother,

birth of a special angel
now she flies above the clouds

always near
to those that hear
echoes of her laugh


When I visit her house, it takes me back so long ago

playing back different stories
some are sad, some are joyous

sitting by the river bank
see the water lapping
ripples of her laugh


our very first encounter in the bedroom by the riverside

born one wintry night
in a hurry for her arms

lapping up all the love
my mother and her mother and her father too
my father and my sister


rocking on my shaky heels

waiting for the sun to rise
glistening on the water

memories with my sister
sleeping by the river
sun awakening our dreams







beating to the drums (troiku)

Celebrating on Corn Beads by Christine Sioui Wawanoloath, winning artwork under the Celebrating First Nations category of the National Aboriginal Day Poster Competition. http://publications.gc.ca/collections/Collection/R32-179-2000E.pdf


In honour of National Aboriginal Day – June 21 2018



by the flames
heart of a nation

stories retold
by their elders

by the flames
dancing ‘round the campfire
echoes of their songs

heart of a nation
to the drums

©Tournesol ’18/06/21

Tournesol is my nom de plume – Cheryl-Lynn Roberts

summer solstice (troiku) written for HaikuHorizons – Flame

It is a special week this week. June 21st  – Summer Solstice, as well at National Aboriginal Day – and my mother’s birthday June 22nd…to me also means honouring her life.

all night long
by the flames

looking out towards the sky
shooting stars

all night long
once upon
a summer solstice

by the flames
your eyes dancing
melting my heart

©Tournesol ’18/06/20




Victim No More



I don’t want to write about hate
I just need to have a witness
to how I feel about their unfair fate
when some adults  trespass
fathers, mothers , uncles, aunties too
on their youths who become lost
sons, daughters, nephews, nieces too
in such chaos and betrayal!
search for answers at all cost
broken, fragile and frail;
some turn out promiscuous
or conduct quite outlandish
self-harming although atrocious
it may help them  cope
finding a sort of self-control
even for a moment…gives them hope;
they search blindly, their new role
getting lost in booze and dope,
being victims and incest survivors.
some just give in to submission
sinking low into depression.
grown-ups …pseudo humanoids
possessed by demons of some sort
world should make them void
acting on perverted urges they cavort
young innocent girls and boys, ‘tis all the same
accounting for all the casualties’ names;
Boy, girl? they suffer and rarely ever claim
nor report their abuser
unfortunately,  they happen to be
trusted adults,
persons to whom they have affection
they dare not show signs of deception
even though these monsters
performed the worse
such a breach of trust,
acting on their abuse of power
youths dislike feeling forced
disclosing facts of sexual exploitation;
they would rather forget it ever transpired;
they prefer to have their memory obliterated
never to be reminded of their nightmare
victims to their mothers, uncles,
aunties and grand-parents too,
lest we forget cousins, neighbours, strangers too.
A youth tells me, “But I love my dad! I don’t want him to die in jail!”
another youth says, “But she’s family and all I have left!”

Dear men, women, pseudo humanoids,
who exploit children and youths
umpteen ways  yo u exploit and trick
any child. Shame on you! how dare you pick
your children, other children, any children!
How dare you feed on your perverted lust?
knowing you are wrong, still you feel you must
satiate your desires; choose to break their trust
yield to narcissistic needs and no respect
robbed of their dignity, powerless to reject
your urges.
If only you’d have turned
to professionals to help you spurn
those urges… you could finally
STOP abusing
START respecting,
START deflecting
STOP reflecting
ONLY on your own unspeakable wants.

Shame on you for acting
on these impulses … reacting
in the most selfish and egocentric
behaviour,  ‘tis the most barbaric
in human nature…you look like humanoids
but rodents, killer insects or snakes
are more humane than you could ever be.

The Great Spirit is kinder than me
for I still must dig deep to find empathy
that I reserve solely for the victims
and survivors of such distressing whims.

I forgive you but
cannot forget
they may forgive you in time
but cannot forget
they may heal in time
and carry their scar… an aide-mémoire
like a soldier, their badge of honour
Victim turning to Victor, a Survivor
… victim no more.

© Cheryl-Lynn Roberts,  originally written October 1, 2013 edited Sept 15, 2018

Photo credit: Google Image.

Victim No More

Tournesol dans un Jardin


I don’t want to write about hate
I just need to have a witness
to how I feel about the unfair fate
when some adults do trespass
fathers, mothers , uncles, aunties too
on their youths who become lost
sons, daughters, nephews, nieces too
in such chaos and betrayal!
search for answers at all cost
broken, fragile and frail;
some turn out promiscuous
or conduct quite outlandish
self-harming although atrocious
it may help some to cope
finding a sort of self-control
even for a moment…gives them hope;
they search blindly, their new role
getting lost in booze and dope,
being victims and incest survivors.
some just give in to submission
sinking low into depression.
grown-ups …pseudo humanoids
violently possessed by some sort
of demon; world should make them void
acting upon perverted urges they cavort
poor young innocent girls and boys, ‘tis all the same
accounting for all the…

View original post 358 more words

Emotes to manhood (haibun) (SoCS)

I totally forgot this story…

Tournesol dans un Jardin

The drama teacher told us the other  day that the boys do not emote enough and asked me and Francine to give examples. Is she kidding?  I am a bundle of emotions. My soul and heart are like a bunch of elastics that pile one on to the other building a ball bigger than a golf ball.  Each elastic can snap at the knowledge of sadness, pain and suffering.  An elastic or two will snap if there is hatred and bitterness.    I am the most ridiculous example of someone you should NOT be like. But these guys need examples, she said.

Well, I beg to differ, Mrs. Messier!  These boys know how to emote alright.  They did it just fine when they were babies, even as toddlers but when they got to nursery school at the ripe OLD age of 3 and 4, they were laughed at for showing emotions. …

View original post 772 more words