Thursday, August 20, 2009

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

Saturday, August 08, 2009

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

Monday, August 03, 2009

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


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?