Long distant cry, how I pine for your touch,
a bridge of one hundred miles,
gaunt gulf beyond my grasp
golden haze of blithe recall, sunlit strolls,
heartfelt pledge, under green copse,
then transfer, post abroad
your dulcet voice on phone has me weeping,
though honeysuckle laughter,
creeps in, sinks a deep root
close union fostered, we dwell, dream, at dawn,
where that gem rimmed stroke of luck,
heralds my homebound trek
post trauma absence, dwindles in a kiss,
a gleaming eye rapprochement,
velvet voice hue’d dribble
winsome weekend yet return journey lurks,
seconds fly, olympic spurts,
solemn clock a spoilsport
resume garnet glisten threads of fond blab,
sonic swathe of peachy phrase,
from a glow world era
ramble through lush haunt on a spur or spark,
where once love’s first blush blossomed,
in time pastille misty.
a gurgling swirl pool, high tide torrent now,
engulf twin flame’s scarce resource,
random swing by mood boost
catch up at lightning pace, that traffic jam,
of wistful yesterday’s dash,
oops…yikes…booked cab in yard!!
From way afar I did see
Life with gaiety and glee
come toward me uncurbed
I was but too self-absorbed
with lust and greed
to pay much heed.
~Contest: Bitesize No.131
~Sponsor: Line Gauthier.
Earth woos Venus but she is resistant,
reflecting light of sol in the night sky,
mirrored by her lover who’s persistent,
that tango dancing, tremulous hearts sigh.
The girl next door is the beauteous moon,
who planet earth does date from time to time
for when in full bloom, she makes his heart swoon
but Venus alone awakens love’s chime.
Playing spoilsport, Mars spits venom and fire,
whilst jilted Saturn casts a dark shadow,
since for hand of Venus, they both aspire,
though it’s fated neither can be her beau.
Love letters carried on a comet’s tail,
declare those who’re pure of heart will not fail.
O search not for a rare applause,
Beware, life is a thankless stage—
It's vain, a loud uproar to cause
On this voyage of pilgrimage,
A puppet you are, caught in cage.
Vain to think you’re a great actor,
You know the plot, nor script nor end,
Watch out, Fate’s a poor director,
As clown, no great role shall ye land,
As puppet, pulled by unknown hand.
________________________________
Musings | 05.09.2015| Quintain
Poet’s note: We might think we are great actors, while in truth we are no more than clowns in the eyes of a spoilsport called Fate, Fortune, or Destiny. Man is then no more than a clown who hopes to hear applause on life’s stage that proves a vague hope, a mirage. For, life offers no programme; the director of the stage-play gives no script; the destiny provides no prompt. And still, he must perform in hope for an applause that seldom materializes.
Rather than delusion that separates,
let’s cultivate the forces that unite,
like childlike innocence that celebrates
and a pure heart pulsating with delight,
suffused in bliss mists by day and by night.
To this end, we identify ego
as the spoilsport, which we need to let go,
enabled upon resting flow of thought,
whereupon our love drenched presence aglow,
entwined with existence, becomes self-taught.
creativity and spontaneity
pulse of innate aliveness
unfettered by patterns
that shapes identity
in form containerised
since baton of awareness
is free from bondage to mind
ego plays spoilsport
if we let tail wag the dog
25-May-2023
Heart wants to play, for we’re a child
But ego plays spoilsport
Flow of love is gentle and mild
Where bliss is our consort
Mysteries unravelled
On the path less travelled
Has our pure heart dazzled
Soul’s a sun ray
Heart wants to play
31-March-2023
Quietus
How can thoughts arise
Unless heart desires
As it’s so cajoled
By soul eternal
That we may ascend
Spoilsport ego
Has its own urge
Endless desires
Mirrored by fear
Love’s the way
Aligning
Head and heart
Be still
And know
God
13-February-2023
To dear Nanette:
How can I express what I feel for you?
I love you.
Because you are you,
When you are not with me, I’m blue.
Because you’re chic,
Outside, the countryside is bleak.
Because you’re lovely,
I yearn for you embrace cuddly,
Because you are true,
We are one not two,
Because……
From the administrator:
Cut the crap and don’t waste our space. Just go hug and kiss her.
To the administrator:
Spoilsport ;)
Battle of the Sexes:
Over the best of three sets tennis history was made!
Acrostic Drugs:
Fall for oceanic allure, not cocaine.
Affection:
By the bubbling brook bees bond with buttercups.
Disillusion:
My dreams are like soap bubbles – they keep popping.
Spoilsport:
He quashed all their ideas, but finally spared a thought!
-------------------------
Contest: 5 One Liners
Sponsor: Bev Smith
Kids want to play.
Rainy day comes.
The grey denies.
Rains cats and dogs.
Even hogs pout,
but frogs rejoice.
Clouds roll away.
Sun will stay out.
Make way for fun.
Hurrah for sun,
in just one hour
all done with games.
Won no. 10
For Dr. Mehta's contest
Kids, you can call me a looney or a spoilsport
whose views you'll find silly and will never support:
winnie pooh will kill,
teddy also will
as real grownup bears, this to you I shall report.
and that deceitful story about mickey mouse
who is nothing but a creepy pest in the house;
lovable to you,
nothing really new;
he spreads disease with the gnat, the tick and the louse!
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