Short Portico Poems

In summer, sluggish sense of sloth he gets, 
lazy time passes him by, he forgets.
     In hot kitchen he doesn’t go,
     keeps whipped eggs on portico.
He snoozes in shade, sun cooks omelets.

...

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In summer, sluggish sense of sloth he gets, 
stops the lazy time, for clock’s hands he sets.
     In hot kitchen he doesn’t go,
     keeps whipped eggs on portico.
He snoozes in shade, sun cooks omelets. 
...

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The old dilapidated mansion
in the woods
sometimes it beckoned me
in lonely hours.
I love to visit it
in a fine weather
sit on the stairs of its portico
and ponder
how it liked
in its heydays long past.
I might not be allowed then
to visit its premises....

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My Persona

Today I built myself a Persona,
My Identity has become a façade,
I thought it was time I had one,
Concealment shouldn’t be too hard.

It’s a kind of portico, facia or frontage,
A cover-up or clever disguise.
Smoke screened by veneered pretence,
You won’t see what’s in front of your eyes....

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A bout of sloth in summer this man gets,
time on lazy clock inert mind forgets.
In the kitchen he doesn’t go,
keeps whipped eggs on portico,
while he dozes sun flame makes omelettes.

June 8, 2020
Syllable count : 10/10/7/7/10
Checked on howmanysyllables.com
Contest : Summer Laziness
Sponsor : Mohan Chutani...

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Elegant portico columns, fireplace frame
Fronting tasteful, demure white walls
Rich browns -- pianoforte, armchair
Muted ostentation, classicism bespoken --
the eye startled, struck
by the clear glass vase 
on the mantel
stems ascending 
to bold-green leaves
slightly upturned
as are firm, youthful breasts
topped by brilliant bursts
of pink-streaked flowers
panorama...

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Spring's veranda calls to me, come enjoy peace
Out on the porch I commune with sweet nature
A sacred place of quietude and release
Where seasons come then go with air sweet and pure
And the view causes my stress to slowly cease
Out on this portico, though a humble lure
Angels and the Holy Spirit reach down, touch
My soul mends at this place, my steady, strong crutch 
...

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the wind rages
waves are high and ferocious
they pound the shore relentlessly
I stand on the portico as the wind whips my hair
and I zip my jacket higher against the chill
the moon hides as does the stars
all ocean life swimming in deeper fathoms
tomorrow the sun will shine
the sand will be swept clean
nothing of the storm will remain
nor will thoughts of you
that I cast into the wind
now completely blown away...

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