Tears of Winter

These winds cause bitter fright,

This unseasonal-season of cold spells leaving one with goosebumps, when one should be bathed instead in sunlight!

Record rainfall & more overcast days ahead in store,

Hailstorms in May, who would have thought?

Am I over-reacting or scaremongering when it’s actually just ‘one of those things’?

But, isn’t that what the majority of the characters said in that film, 2012?!

Right- right- that was ‘just a film’, and the Mayans apparently may have got it wrong,

Though- I remain baffled & beg the question:- why am I freezing my bits off in mid-to-late spring!

I hear the birds-

Yes- the flowers have begun to bloom-

And, yes – the mornings are brighter and the sun doesn’t set until about 9 or 10!

And- the gardeners among us are keenly waiting to get out and plough their respective lawns (if only the incessant rains would stall),

But, I ask you:

What happened to the days basking in the sun, 

Where everyone wore shades,

And the girls wore less and less,

It was oh so much fun!

So: rain rain go away! 

Give a chance at least to all them bikini clad women to re-populate our spring days!

Shroud of (Invisible) Silk

This shroud is actually a quilt of many weaves

Each weave is a compliment or criticism, turned into embroidery!

Each competing for your attention – 

In a dance of shifting, rippling, coalescing, translucent shades of mist, 

Kept together with a weave made of your sheer spirit & propelled by the strength of your conviction: 

A pattern – growing one way or other, as your popularity peaks by word-of-mouth or otherwise (along with your developing reputation),

Striking an equilibrium between these competing forces is however nigh on impossible,

And it is a folly to expect this delicate balance to be maintained for all time- 

(It’s an inconsistent weave in earnest to be appreciated in retrospect rather than in the present),

For all the stars in the sky, save for optical illusions, shine the brightest before they begin to decline, 

Therefore, do not seek out fame for, if you are true, it (& it’s counterpart) will eventually find you,

On that day & time, do not forget that it did not come to you overnight & stay true to the aforesaid, whatever else you do or have in mind,

My words are simple, the concepts less so, 

Hopefully, this sonnet, does not leave you overly troubled, for that it is not its intention-

But, just, simply, to enlighten you!

Addicted to the End

I have known you all my life (mother’s milk given a slight kick & a spike!)

Though we were not properly acquainted till I was well into my teens: 

Our skirting/casual acquaintance has admittedly turned addiction over time-

You kept me company through my ills, never disappointing- 

Each time, delivering what the bottle described

My kith, my kin have long since abandoned me: wanting nothing more to do with me

Now my friend, they say our friendship is killing me: each sip, turning my blood into vinegar & wine- what bittersweet irony!

They say I was once a bright glistening star: And, casually remark – 

(When they believe my wits and hearing have abandoned me) – 

‘How the mighty do fall’

Alas, I may smell like a stale pitcher of some backwater brewery, with slurred speech, in beggar’s garb…but, my hearing yet remains pin-drop sharp-

I have become a cautionary tale; maybe that is my misspent life’s begotten  aim! 

I have fathered two beautiful children & was convinced of my fidelity to their beloved mother, until my indiscretions caught-up with me-

Though I still love her, she is no longer my wife;

Having, understandably, turned bitter, antagonistic & hurtful – to the extent that she can no longer stand the sight of me (taking along my daughter to her side)-

As I lay dying on that hospital bed (near comatose, each breath a tortuous labour), I did somehow see:

My wife, looking at me with hostility & detachment from the foot of the bed (whatever happened to all the good things we did?);

My young son, in another corner, shedding tears of loss- 

For the miserable soul who had fathered him & tried to over-compensate for all the woes he had witnessed, with gifts-

When all he had needed was love!

I finally understood & regretted:

But, was the thought actually mine or a fever dream brought on by lack of drink?

A last thought, if not a final goodbye, to a ‘friend’ who was not truly a ‘friend’, but your greatest enemy in disguise!