I'm on a two hour flight
Window seat
Middle seat vacant.
A no mans land between a woman,
unknown to me at the isle,
Her head absorbed in a paperback
Later she arises, goes to the toilet.
The book lies, its pages spread open,
On the vacant, warm seat.
Tempted by curiosity
My fingers nimbly
Flip it over to read the title,
Fifty Shades of Grey.
She returns, unaware
I'd discovered her,guilty pleasure.
Takes up where she'd left off,
Devouring Fifty Shades of Grey.
And not a word did we exchange
Neither on,take off
Nor during short spasms of,
Turbulent vibrations.
Nor on the bumpy landing.
However, all the while
I was tempted to ask,
' On a scale of one to ten,
how aroused have you been
For the duration of this pleasant flight?'
Ke go amogela ka lethabo
I embrace you with joy
Go gwerana le wena my spouse
Ke go gokarela le go amogela
Ka go dumediša le go go amogela
Ke ipšina ka go kgahlwa ke lerato la gago
I delight in being enchanted
Ka go rata wena By loving you
Monya wa pelo ya ka The dew of my heart
Ke a go reta, ke a go dumediša I praise you, I greet you
Ka go tšea le go amogela By taking and accepting you
Ke go kgetha godimo ga tše dingwe
I choose you above all others
Ke go amogela ka lepotlapotla
I welcome you eagerly
Ke amogela lerato la gago
I accept your love
Ke kgetha wena o kaone fela
I choose only you, thebest of you
You still my soul
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ Miranda wakes,
Feels the sun ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ unwilling step ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
Shuddering to the mirror.
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ Miranda's sight
Is old and gray and dirty;
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
This morning she is thirty.
Shining ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ star,
¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ twilight shining,
Haunted ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
Miranda is a-pining.
Silly ¦¦¦¦¦ silver girl,
Draw ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ toward you;
Time ¦¦¦ makes the years to whirl
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ he adored you.
¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ timelessness for you;
Calendars ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦¦¦ a year, or thirty, to
Loveliness made woman?
¦¦¦ Night will not see thirty again,
¦¦¦ soft ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ Miranda;
Pick up your glass ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
How old is Spring, Miranda?
(Blackout of A Lady Who Thinks She Is Thirty by Ogden Nash)
The sky is grey
This feeling come across me
Another day
Trapped into my mind
Could I skip this journey
So I could wake up on a sunny morning
And pretend that I'm okay
But for now
I'll let the sky ruin me and pray
For better days
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Contest: EIGHT BY EIGHT Poetry Contest
Date: August 1, 2026
Fog Between Souls
Silent woods now hold wind echoes.
Grey mist veils our cold, frozen path.
Thick fog stands between you and me.
Dodder wrapped around both our souls.
Rootless, it drained all of our hope.
Broken leaves wept right at our feet.
Who stole our sweet love into fog?
Only silence softly answered.
Come on, Daphne!
We’re walking!”
This is the best part
of both of our days
Our lives are in the steps
Daphne and I take,
everyday
You first,
my light-footed queen
Watching you,
undeniably alive,
enjoying the best
the world has to offer
makes my life
My life.
Black Mud, Grey Ash
The water struck
and wiped a village
from the earth
A dreamland of golden wheat
gone in a single thunder
Trees stand empty
forgetting the lovers
under their shade
Silence waltzes
through the lanes
with destruction’s tune
Bangles
schoolbags
a lone flute
now ash
on the wind
And photos
hold our lives
breathing
in black mud
Here it is the grey monster
Sadness
Sticking it tongue
Poisoning my head
But surprisingly
Giving me verses.
How alive you still are, Hercule!
Your mustache perfectly coiffured
The rain has come,
to my mediocre town tonight
We were all holding our breath
as if waiting for more than water
My small mind
still works out puzzles
that are answered
by wiser women than me
Agatha Christie, I wish I could
treat you to Devonshire tea
Would you take the bait?
You are worlds ahead of me,
in the head, in the heart
of submerged, unchartered
understanding
Call Hastings!
There is no time
for remonstrances
We are not dealing
with ordinary criminals
today
I was waiting for you to catch me,
Miss Christie
The Clouds may be Grey
The clouds may be grey
May be white, may be black
But at last a small gap
Let’s the blue sky shine through.
No life without light
The first thing God made
The sun is his gift.
Source of every good thing.
We are favoured and blessed
While we live on this Earth
Deserving the worst
God has given us his best.
There was peace in the mirrors,
Reflections of joy from within,
Motivation lifting me above endless fields,
The long road felt shorter and even,
Dreams dancing to the beat of discipline,
The grasslands were still ever green.
Years passed by on tiptoes,
Feeding on time I thought I owned,
Hair has turned grey by broken time,
Suddenly motivation went quiet,
Only the sound of silence was so clear,
Now I hear what I fear,
The sound of tomorrow cracking
like a thirsty land.
Procrastination painted escape
doors so near,
Comfort stole the time and dreams
grew unclear,
Depression became so familiar,
Every wasted second was irretrievable,
I capitulated and drowned in my nightmares,
The flames of tomorrow were doused,
The tunnels and channels were dimmed,
The grasslands have faded to grey.
Eyes crystallize with meandering tears,
Hope breathing beneath the dust of my fears,
Insomnia dining on my thoughts for years,
Dancing with questions that refuse to sleep,
Empty hours counted every failure,
Night repeats wasted time like a prayer,
Even when summer passes by,
The grasslands are still grey.
Lady Jane Grey
had a bad day.
Could you have been much ruder,
Queen Mary Tudor?
Why does the grey rain
on a Sunday afternoon
evoke such deep sleep?
clear wrinkles of time
stories etched on feeble hands~
life's soft, silent chime
grey hair slowly fall
a journey hard, well- travelled~
canvas on the wall
distant laughter gleams
echoes of a vibrant past~
memoirs flow like streams
Sunlight dulls the eyes
wisdom surfs in the brain~
gazing at the sky
breath is slow and rough
strings of pains begin to sting~
the journey's end is tough.
gray-winged egret
swoons over lakes surface
tiptoeing water
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