no knowing of
right or wrong
that your form
shape the words
of my winter song

it is when
I didn't try
that I failed,

for in trying
is emerald
richness,

a rich coat
of lavish
paint on

life canvas,
those who
dragged

themselves
out of iron
habit and

made the run,
breathing each
step as a drop,

and in keen
awareness
gently match

the heart's
beat to earth's
vigour, to feel

blood throbbing
within, to find
oneself is enough,

to try is to be
one with the
invincible gods...

all in all
I am glad
to have
dived in

to have
made for
myself
the leap

rushing through
the tiny crevice
a pause brought
between prolonged
talk, mostly her
rambling excited
expectant chatter,
and I exhaling
grunted assents

from there to
her glistening
left cheek,
how diminutive
form requires
adjustments    
and the heart
how it sprouts
flares, serenades
vulnerability
again, again

thus to declare
that there's no
sweeter nectar
than a stolen
kiss, that little
tinge of a moment
that you may miss,

risk a slap instead,
or a beating, for
flirtation, youth
and lonely strolls
are extremely fleeting...

we are not
a country,
we are not
patriots,

just
individuals,
meant to follow
our heart,

the rest
is ingrained,
indigested,
strained
into us,

we are not
borders,
we are not
boundaries,

we are much
more than flags,
shrouds and
two days in a
year of

tricolours...

who am I?
is where
it begins...

the bumble bee
finds me
a ribald joke

hell bound
to poke
into me

an ancient song
of its folk

in uncertainty
the certainty
of adventure

round
dizzy
breezy
sweaty
swirl

blast
roar
thump
beats
gong

the
heart

clasp
sway
kiss
hug
snug

one
and
apart

one
and
apart

and when the
fierce rays
canvas across

my face, I know
that loneliness
is only a myth,

among trees,
there is none
as benign as

the sun

where oh did I lose that cascade,
passion-o-heart, madness...

clear skied simplicity in dreams,
shut-eyed wonderment in breeze,
where oh did I lose that cascade,
passion-o-heart, madness...

moonlit on an edgy path,
naked-foot on winter grass,
wild wolfish laughter howl,
crackling fire, songs aloud,

where oh did I lose that cascade,
passion-o-heart, madness...

treasures bestowed by a wise friend,
much that I heard and not heed,
a life allowed to be swept away,
million work hours on a morbid chair,  

where oh did I lose that cascade,
passion-o-heart, madness...

Night writes
To Day,

Return at my darkest
End,
Sprinkle color of a
Temporary death,

Then at evening
I write again

The meeting place
Of two friends...

traffic smoke
piercing the haze
a butterfly

stay
hugged
for now

beautiful
lost
bird

winter
brings
down

its
snow
white
cage

you bid the shore away,
broken bangle shapes,
the clear water makes,

your form is a magnet,
I am drawn to you,
and at this moment,

love is you

beware!
the lure of
the indoors,

watch how it
seeps an ennui
in your bones,

do not engage,
hatch an escape,
step out unguarded,

let's trace the world
as our first ancestors
must have,

to awake, discover
anew, breath, light,
vision, flair...

come and see,
come and see,
the night is free,

even if the
years have
melted in

candle wax,
a stir of a
song and

they still
dance to
it's beat

feet...

and when you
float into my
dream

bubble

make an
O of my lips
and gift you

flight

without you

no sea shore
no songbird
no starlight

no thunder
no rain

no laughter
no pain

no morose mornings
no calm, rolling nights

without you