Love’s Lure

Clad in

designer togs

heady perfume

Smoldering

with allure

enflaming

Hooked

Don Juan

Hovered

fluttering

Crooning

swansong

swaggering

Fatal finale

Sensuous, slow

dance of death

at love’s altar

Immolating self

in complete surrender

Kindled, crumbles

Purified spirit

fire tested

takes wing

picture from internet 

The Bridge

Amidst accusing tears, fears,

Heartfelt hug, heart to heart,

Eyes to eyes, emotionally moistened

Breakthrough achieved, finally

 

                                  

Morals like ear- rings hugged the sun burnt neck

Sun kissed boats jostled playfully on love’s shore,

Nudging, moored firmly by love’s anchor once more

Riding highs and lows on waves of passion’s furor

Wolf At The Door

“Appetite, a universal wolf.”  -Shakespeare

Wolf At The Door

 

 To keep the wolf from door 

Dragged self daily out of door

Moist eyes, heavy heart, leaden feet

Led me away from you, my baby

 

 

Piteous cries filled snowy mornings

Drowning car radio bearing me away

Maternal love died many deaths

Withering flowering between hope, despair

 

 

Regrets, few, abiding grievance one

Precious time savoring you lost forever

Left you daily to keep wolf from door

Dragged self daily out of the door

 

 

Loss and price was too dear to bear

Eyes still well up for times not there

Maternal love did suffer a great blow

You and I are not close any more

note: for both working parents:)) 

 

Cliche

Played out
Spent, into debt
Almost on the verge
But, life itself is a cliché

Moon, sun stars glittery
Used abused by poets jittery
Extolled in paeans, words buttery
Relentlessly they still beat same beaten path

Out of box clever think
Some folks make me blink
What matters is the heart
If that be true, that’ll float, rest’ll sink

life itself is a cliche

with its revolving door
endlessly spewing sucking

in out expeditiously

Free At Last

Fearlessly I run amok in the whole mansion
Chatter of my tiny feet gets new owners’ attention
Many peaked ears hug walls and water pipes
Trying to nail the source of my sound bytes

Our duel of wits had lasted a long time
Until they accepted defeat giving me respite
No longer wary, I breathed happily, to enjoy
Free run of kitchen, bite here there to annoy

Hating my guts, a professional they’d employed
To capture me, heal their bleeding hemorrhoids
But I come from a stock both spunky and wily, in me
Catcher met his match, unusual protagonist, slippery

Grandma said at time of my birth stars had conspired
Hence I was always in trouble, all reform plans misfired
The professional set many a mousetrap for my capture
My uncanny skill kept me one jump ahead in utter rapture

Our cat and mouse play went on for many months
Until, end of his tether Professional gave up on seventh
To celebrate victory we had a gala party on the eighth
Ceasefire gave us all time to catch our breaths

Then alas, one day the building next door collapsed
Taking down a wall of our mansion that was attached
Life ebbed out of all of us as we scurried here and there
Disgusted, our master sold house dirt cheap in despair  
 
~~
I should be the last person to say anything against temptation,
 naturally, but we have a proverb down here ‘in baiting a
 mouse-trap with cheese, always leave room for the mouse’.
- Hector Hugh Munro

Mouse is Not A Thief, It is the hole that Allows Mouse In!

-Herman Jacobs

picture from internet

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