Tasty bug ambles
across the parched, sandy dune.
Oh rapture! I fly!
Eight long decades I’ve taken
To know this life’s touchstone like truth:
Man loves to live anywhere
But at life’s battle-hardened booth.
Yea, we scarce want to be
Where life for reason has brought us,
And wishing to migrate
There, there to fish for no cause.
Old age, as is inevitable,
As it brings me to brood,
And mind being unstable,
Ambles back to my childhood,
Which, without the least of doubt,
One of the pleasant most,
Though not always sugarcane sweet
That be chewed till void of its boast.
I recall still when I was there—
A child in flesh and blood and mood,
Not an apparition of thought,
My thoughts centred oft on adulthood.
Today I wonder, not just childhood,
Life’s every stage is such a swell time,
Which, when one gets older feels good,
But mind meanders, reason nor rhyme.
Not at life’s battle-hardened booth…
It’s taken me eight long decades
To know this life’s touchstone like truth:
Leaving all jewels, man chases jades.
__________________________
Musings | 06.05.2026 | age, birth/brood, childhood, old, quatrain
Alone in the kitchen—
The refrigerator is the loudest sound.
He sits and compares,
A home that was once too theirs.
Their running up and down the stairs;
Like wild mustangs and without cares
The refrigerator is the loudest sound—
He would prefer theirs.
Too bad they're grown and gone;
Realizing how much you depended on,
Having laces to tie, and crying eyes to dry,
Or how quickly life ambles by.
You hardly notice the passing years,
Till their not around—
And you're alone in the kitchen
And the refrigerator is the loudest sound.
observe habit patterns that bind
exerting a compelling bind
from which if we wish to be free
befriend silence, with love aligned
awareness free from our mind tree
ambles gently through life carefree
detached yet vibrant and alive
soul with laws of God does agree
sipping nectar from heart’s bliss hive
with no need to struggle and strive
detached from outcomes we are still
knowing in time we will arrive
Parody of Christmas song "Christmas time is here"
Christmas comes not to stray
on the snow-stacked pathway.
Comes all the way so punctual
with the blissful occasion to pray.
Family folks come to delight
from wherever they stay out of sight.
Our joy attains fulsome dimension,
reaches on festive days great height.
Christmas comes with glee,
ambles in snow piled up to knee.
Carol tune floats in the frozen air,
we dance round the ornate fir tree.
We sense inside the bubbles of fun
stroke our minds to joyfully run,
see the cheerful dust rise high.
Through the year we live the time gone,
see rapture return in the starry sky,
live again the time, the enjoyable one.
autumn ambles slowly
shuffling through fallen leaves
dodging Winter’s kiss
crumpled pumpkins frown
sparrows await a sunrise
a barn cat stretches
seagulls battle gusts
crabs wander an empty beach
icy froth glistens
as wolves sniff the wind
cowering beneath its howl
a cold hunger waits
a lone snowy owl
shakes the frost from its feathers
in frigid silence
The waves&her
Along the waves she ambles
Prevailing the ocean elysian
The longing feel of a hiraeth
Sensual, her cheeks aflush; An inamorata.
She gently rubs her eyes and sees-
the bewitching phosphenes:
Ludic, And apricate.
Among the waves she stood, in-stillness.
The aurora reflecting on her eyes.
In werifesterias, she questions and halts,
The alexithymia she relishes
Then she ruminates with a glee.
The ocean flows mellifluous-
Dulcet. So orphic.
Away from the waves she walks,
Ephemeral, on the way to her metanoia
Absquatulate.
She chose to think his sweet talk lies were cute…
that things he said had value worth pursuit.
that substance would emerge, somewhat astute.
And while his words of love she wants to feel…
she ambles through their world hoping to heal.
She fears his selfish frost is hard as steel.
These past three years recalled with misty eyes…
he goads her daily even as she cries;
he begs excuse but sneers with compromise.
His conversation scars with bogus blame.
it mocks them both for trust has turned to shame;
it gags her voice, so silence is her game.
She made a promise, hoping that somehow
her mate would change. She’ll never break her vow.
Time ambles on
separating each day
with uncontrolled grief
I was overcome by the pretty
all the birds sang to me
like a dream, forever searching
"The velvet veins running through my deep-coloured wings sing blues, remembering the non-existent maple memories, lighting up my heart's frosty rays."
~ Deepali Singhvi
The soft folds of velvet enclose
her slim body as she ambles
across the woods in tearful throes;
Wrapped in velvet, on she rambles
in whispers of ache that perturb
her feelings that are in shambles;
Her saunter's like a healing herb
that relieves her from her sorrow,
Here, there's no one else to disturb;
She follows a path that's narrow,
sits beside a well-worn headstone,
cries as if there is no morrow;
Slowly, she sighs sitting alone,
Unlocks a velvet box and takes
a black velvet rose to bemoan;
Places it there, her body shakes
with deep anguish for whom she lost,
"I'll love you always", her voice breaks;
Walking back, she's like velvet frost,
Wishing their love were not star-crossed.
She carried her hurts like a bag full of rocks
and named it her hard knocks box..
It grew heavier and heavier as she traveled
to and fro so one sunny day, she let them all go...
Now she ambles lightly, at a much easier pace,
without her rocks, there's room for grace
I lay myself bare all over again,
I need you to look,
Not with mere sight,
But with depth of your very being,
I need you to see me fully.
I want to be the sight you endure for ages long,
A vision imprinted in deeper depths of your soul,
I want to be the melody that ambles in your ears,
A song that echoes deep within your deep!
I desire to be the dream lingers in your mind,
In a world that is too dark and blind,
In you my light could abide,
I want to be that stroke that kindles your senses,
And within me your light can reside,
So, I lay myself bare all over again,
For you my dear to peer into my core,
I lay myself bare all over again,
In hopes that you will see me, organic and raw
Because i see you!
They called me a Communist
When only just a teen
Nothing much has changed in
Those Sixty years in between.
My village once had fourteen farms
Now it’s just got one or two
Those employed in the village
Are now very far and few.
It’s commuter land these days
Almost deserted on weekdays
An almost soulless place
With modern village ways.
There was Social Housing then
Now it’s mainly owner occupied
Very few common folk there
Now it’s well and truly gentrified.
The old Falcon Inn once well used
As village meet and social club
Has been renovated and become
A stylish seldom open Gastro Pub.
My dad’s old cottage still stands
Only because it’s been listed
Next door has been knocked through
As though it had never existed.
Two hundred years the family home
Now any trace of us long gone
It’s what these days they call progress
As life ambles and stumbles on.
A place of many required lessons
Which I never did manage to learn.
Only old family graves there now
So I seldom bother to return.
They called me a Communist
Because I wouldn’t doff my cap
To the Johnny-cum-lately Squire
Touring the village by pony and trap.
Breast of roses where her femininity used to be.
A scent of blossoms milled out by mastectomy.
The clippings praise and curse at the same time.
Her petals falling, weeping, assaulted, past prime.
Not fair…not the way she wanted to lose weight.
She ambles, learning to walk with this offsetting gait.
They were ample, with a perfect curvature, round.
She used to complain…now her buddies can’t be found.
With this primeval bouquet she’s not lost her life.
She’s more alive then ever after she’s been under the knife.
She’s a different scent, more vibrant with the love of her life.
He’s learned that what he would truly miss is his wife.
10/19/2022
Do you ever look into the field of azure
to a plane just a dot in the sky
and imagine yourself in the cockpit
As it freely ambles by
Looking down on this patchwork of earth below
Unfettered as free as a bird
having escaped the bird catchers net
by gravity no longer deterred
Slowly ploughing celestial heights
Scattering seeds of hope
When in the trenches look heavenwards
A visible reminder to cope
Rise above it brethren
Reach out touch the face of God
Draw closer to him he'll draw closer to you
This promise thankfully applaud
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