Love Letters In the Sand

Ah, the serenity of daybreak at the strand

With you and a scatter of little birds at hand

Early morning sea breeze's amiable touch

Still without the harsh sting of a late day sun

Caressed and livened your reddened cheeks

I dared express sweet thoughts with my toes

Etching them on the sparkling morning sand

You rushed to trample on the words with bare feet

Conspiring to erase with the oncoming foam

Racing water rushed with frothy leads

Taking with it words and foot marks on the sand

As it ebbed back from whence it came

I thought that I would immortalize the nonce

Oh how briefly the moment savored

My love written on inconstant sands

Flew away with the sand pipers

Even before the end of the dawn

Yellow Letter Day

With quivering lips we muttered “there goes our hero”.

Her harp made silent by destined mortal passage

But her song reverberates over the mangrove trees

And on white sandy stretches of countless strands.

The regal crests of this country's mountain heights

Intones in the breeze a requiem of a million bird-songs.

Yellow bells trumpet incessantly a heavy hearted eulogy

For the people's beloved one, for an irreplaceable loss.

But the lady knows no death, her legacy is etched on

Peoples' faces; hopeful and happy, proud and uncowed

Carved on the granite walls of justice made available to all

The spirit of this heroism lives on despite the unkind climes.

But the flame will not be doused by evil men and evil deeds.

For as long as there are the just, the brave and the good

Who will rekindle by a hundred, a thousand...a million fold

The gift bequeathed to the people of these restless islands.

What Will I Wear Tonight?

What gown will I wear tonight? she mused,

As the early scatter of the fading light settled and

Gray banners fluttered in the twilight air

Festooned over an elegant black and white horizon

What fineries will be fitting against a classic motif?

Will she wear a cape dotted by a million sparkles?

Or gems formed by light years from distant blasts

Made more brilliant by the absence of the moon?

Would she dare wear a tiara of a burning disc with

A backdrop of dying light from flickering candles?

A sturdy rack sagged with the weight of arrayed vanities

Each one hopeful of being blessed by the lady's choice.

Her gaze moved from one brilliant creation to another

Oh the quandary she faces though not only this once

But never apologetic for such an embarrassment of riches

Moon Glow

How bright the full moon shone that night

Reflecting a chalky whiteness on public squares

Furtive movements uncovered by random light

Revealing silhouettes in the bush of lovers in pairs

Its fullness stirred compelling demented dreams

A breeze scattered stardust into a shimmering glow

All stood moonstruck by the sprinkle of brilliant beams

The world, on this bewitched night stood still in awe

Lines

My life has been spent drawing lines

Thick and threatening, a warning to others

Not to cross over lest they be thwarted

Demarcations that shut out people and dissent

Straightest of lines to get somewhere fast

Rigid and orderly, a fine way to think

Never meandering nor considering other paths

I drew a line that excluded all, a narrow lane

Deeply rutted through countless hours of pacing

Fixed strides from one point to another, back and forth.

How much longer can I walk the straight and narrow and

Break out into the light from the dark cages of my lines?