Between you and me,

A flurry, a whisper blew.

Your lips moved, hands still,

Eyes disprove.

A movement; clear yet transient vibe,

Fleeting, yet tangible.

A new constant, to hush the jibes?

Utter out loud, shred the silence,

A plea, do honour this alliance.

What was it, this movement?

A bridge suspended,

By a thread, a cadence that is ours?

Recognition bound in taupe,

Prayer flags flutter in hope,

Yet tenuous, beyond those scars.

May movement be ours again,

Stillness abandoned,

Free, unfetter, unharness,

Those whispered sweet-nothings,

Broken, but restored : the nudging,

The mingling, the shuffling.

A Movement; a start,

New quest, forgotten fears,

Pretend arrest, grace unseal,

Joint visions congeal.

In our once-homely glen,

Restore the Zen, our love re-blend.

Lost & Found

Little boy, are you lost? I ask,

No, I’m not, cries little Boy.DSCN3085

Where’re your mommy,

Your daddy? again I ask.

They are lost, o what a task!

Annoyed is little Boy.

I smile and ploy,

But you, what about you?

If I am lost, I never am,

They never look on cue.

But when they are lost,

and they often are,

(makes me cross, it does)

I help them find themselves,

Boy little delves.

I smile, he grins,

Then off he wanders,

Both lost and found,

And I, new images expound.

Blossoms White


Stretching my arms, I waited.

My white blossomed essence,

Upon you a spell to cast.

There you were, in my bower,

There I was, me, my ardour.

Yet your gaze met not mine,

You passed by, my chassis wine.

Weep I did, bitter tears.

Years went by, seasons rolled,

So did you, from tepid to cold.

Now I’m older, no wiser,

I wait, thirst un-quelled,

More full, more fragrant now,

Enveloped in yearnings,

Every bud ready to burst,

Dousing my longings.


Then there you were, refined claret,

an upward glance you cast,

Flushed, I glow and I blush,

Perfume upon you gush.

Letting go of torments past,

There, I am embraced at last.




He forgets my name,

Often his tea, gently brewed,

Lies cold by the cookies.

Forgets to tie his laces,

For when he walks his twenty paces.

Parched memories,

Those eyes of his reflect,

Blurred moments glint the iris.

As he stares me down,

Upon his brow, a frown.

Flecks a blank mind,

Connecting the flat line,

Looking beyond, at a life bygone.

Winged creatures, he forgets

Are birds that chant,

The bell that peals,

Is inside his head.

No rhythm, no rhyme,

For when it’s his time,

He remembers it all,

Staining the blank,

Glazing the peace,

Driven to forgetting afresh.

In such is his release.





What do you mean it’s written?

It’s in the transcript, they say,

It’s all legalese, all file-encased.

But what about what was said?

O don’t bother with that,

Hearsay, they say, isn’t acceptable.

Got to be in the transcript,

Thereby perceptible.


I hate the courts, I do,

Those wooden hammers,

deathly clamour!


A transcript they say,

Legalese of a copper,

Yet holds the unholy at bay.

O Courts, do grant a Stay,

And save the day.


Come what may, this sheet,

the Transcript, find we must,

To set right, what is just,

For me, or you perhaps?

To defend, even if pretend.

A transcript, ‘tis not an app,

Legit acetin, I daresay,

That would elapse.

Miriam does the Unthinkable

IMG_0798Miriam watches,

It twitches, and fidgets.

Miriam stares,

It scurries,

in no apparent blurry.

“Maa, may I….”

Miriam begs, she pleads.

“Don’t even think about it child!”

Ma admonishes, and cautions,

In her voice so solemn.

Miriam ponders,

It jerks, it scratches, itches,

It tires of its mire.

Miriam grieves,

Should she cheat, may she defy?

Miriam does the unthinkable,

She unlatches and delivers,

Mousey stares, it ogles,

In a trice, it clambers,

A whirlwind asunder.

Miriam deploys, frenzied yells of joy,

Ma turns, observes, reflects,

Pretends to deflect.

Chuckling Ma :

That’s my girl, my kinda girl!