Wednesday, April 5, 2017

A Budding Romance

April, I long for the arrival of your
 ethereal splendour, daylight that dazzles,
 elemental harmony and enchanting nights.

 I confess:
in the springtime of my being, 
my romance with October,
(which proved to be a fling, 
and should have been
 over decades ago), 
 blinded me from seeing
how romantically appealing 
you can truly be.

So, thank you, sweet April, 
for the meadows of soft petals 
that cushion my sore feet,
  for the sparkly rays of 
sunshine that adorn my shoulders,
for the dewy, dainty raindrops
 that trickle down my lashes
 and for the fragrant blossoms 
that prompt my heart to skip a beat.

Now, in the autumn of my days,
the praise of leafy luxury
 has morphed into malaise, since,
 what follows fallen foliage
- winter's barren browns
and callous whites -
 could never ignite the passion 
 found in springtime's floral brights.

 Written for Susan's Midweek Motif:
'April', at Poets United

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Thursday, October 27, 2016

A Matter of Taste


 'Do you like it?', she excitedly asked,
smiling, and expecting me to answer
positively and wholeheartedly 
to her pressing, culinary inquiry. 

the forks went down,
the knives stood by,
the glasses clinked,
my mouth went dry.

'It's delicious!', I, of course, replied,
but the eyes don't lie, do they?

it seemed everyone had lost their appetite -
(the perfect excuse not to eat another bite!),
I bet.

And so, 
as cutlery etiquette goes,
every knife and fork disclosed 
(plate position 4:20 on the nose!), 
that dinner time was duly over.

 Dessert was promptly served, and
 as the coffee was being stirred,
 I hoped that my honest reaction
to my hostess's 'trick' question 
wasn't too much of an indiscretion;
 believe me, that wasn't my intention! 

 After all,
it's impossible to be objective
with regards to matters of taste:
 we're wired to be selective,
when our buds are faced  
with salty or sweet,
veggies or meat,
black or white, but
 when it comes to
who is wrong or
what is right,
we're not. That
takes thought, 
and plenty of it. 

Written for Susan's Midweek Motif:
at Poet's United

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