It is a kiss
like no other –
when your eyes lit up
when you saw mine
across the room
and you came to me
as though you’re drowning
in need of air.
Your lips met mine
like a butterfly
landing on a flower.
No words capture
binding us even more
nor the wish
that such moments
stretch to forever
when I could barely make a step
when all of me screamed of tiredness
unsure of my path
wary of each little sound
coming from the woods -
the rustle of leaves
the startled cry of birds -
I saw a daisy
wild and alone
blooming right on the road
rocky and forlorn
Could it have survived
a well-trodden path?
its beauty was a welcome respite.
WPC: THE ROAD TAKEN
“We live, in fact, in a world starved for solitude, silence, and private: and therefore starved for meditation and true friendship.” ~ C.S. Lewis
Somewhere in the day, between duties and daydreams
Solitude awaits to dispense her blessings –
a book of introduction to people I would never have known,
words in a jumble wishing to become a poem
There could even be music to highlight the mood
the sweetness of cake and warmth of coffee, dark and bold.
Of course, I will help myself to all of those
if only I could find this Solitude’s repose.
The sun retires at 4 o’clock in this part of the world up north
The branches, shorn of leaves, sport some snow for a new winter coat
Forgotten apples, still crisp, shiver in the November sky
And those who neither reap nor sow can feast just like you and I.
At six o’clock it still dim, oh! how the sun takes its time to rise
Well, who will want to play out in the yard that’s slowly turning to ice?
Except perhaps for those chipmunks foraging the woods for some nuts
And, chittering, store them away in some hole in the tree trunk.