in these canyons of craving
we shuffle as
shallow footprints never settling
under a stinging desert shamal
squinting through silica scathing
with sand grit mouth
our lips pull away
parched, lithic dry…
your pernicious passion contrived
in clandestine contrast
to the sky
which thereafter floods blue
I awaken early to marvel at the dawn
but I hesitate by the window
will there be a fusion of exquisite hues
much like your chameleon eyes
crack’d crimson red nestling the hill
heralding a “sailor’s warning”
and there before me
your bloodshot morning gaze
a mélange of tousled locks
a glass on the marble top night stand reminds me
and the beautiful dawn
becomes a figment of the mind
the raven call now forlorn
from joy left behind
for there is only tumbling cloud
when the curtains part
the sky drained of all colour
and my heart drained of all purpose
For a moment I lost track of time
is it morning, or afternoon
and are you still mine?
Are the footprints on the porch
you coming or leaving?
Are we acres of joy
or vast fields of grieving?
And who is the man in the picture
on the wobbled side table?
I’d tell you his name
if I were but able
Besides him smiles the lovely bride
I have that dress don’t I….
and posy bouquet, but dried?
Where am I again
and will I ever be
reunited with you
in full clarity….
Image is my first foray into the world of macro. Inspired by Pete Hillman and his beautiful blog (petehillmansnaturephotography). Of course, when you are focussed on the world of miniature: a type of meditation ensues and for me, words tumble. Enjoy.
She throws snowballs at the sun
Squinting with laughter abundant and true
Gasps at chromatic aberrations on eyelash tips
Ice flecks of rainbow prism dew
Her winter glides gracefully into spring
with daisy chains and purple peony pastime
Grass scuffed knees under shredded dress
Skips meadows humming a nonsence rhyme
And as summers creep and memory fades
the years they pass with startling pace
Nurture well your child within
Mirror kiss her seasoned face