Tears

18 July 2013

The wind lashed at the trees. The rain

Cascaded down the trunk, and sprays

Like tears of sorrow dropped upon

The ground beneath the leaves above…

No, no!

The bark and branches, leaves,

Do not have feelings of regret,

No soul, no realm of fantasy.

I will not change my vulnerable state

For earlier links in our chain of life.

By Request

24 June 2013

By request.

I do believe the life of any woman

In this the twenty-first of centuries

Revolves around the morals and the ethics

Prevailing now.

Morality has left the stage as leading lady,

A sacrifice to strict emancipation.

Ethics will always claim their pride of place

And do engender

The never ending talk and disputation

About what’s right, what’s wrong, or in between.

But women’s first concern will always be:

What is my weight?

What do I wear today?

Ninety one

24 June 2013

Ninety-one.

While poets, painters and philosophers

Have tried to lift the veil from what it hides,

I stay as stupid as a stupid child.

Becomingly it is with childish wonder

That I reflect on ninety years of life

And find the drawers of my memory

Increasingly quite difficult to open.

Although sometimes unasked and unexpected

They spring to life and from their folds and files

Thrust up a picture or a torn up essay

To smile at it, to frown, or to repent,