Blog Archives
Tryst (Republished)
TRYST
A moonlight Autumn evening
Waiting alone beside the river
No birdsong disturbs the air
A faint whisper of cloud
Gathers a handful of stones
Shies them skipping
Reflecting
Musing
Just how much water
Has passed under her bridge
Since they last met?
A rustle in the bushes
But no one emerges
Checks the time
Gives a deep sigh
Turns and walks away
Disappointment
Or else relief?
Convenience Food
CONVENIENCE FOOD
Flavoursome you claim
It says so on the packing
So it must be true
Better Safe Than Sorry
BETTER SAFE THAN SORRY
Wear my heart on my sleeve
Come hell or high water
I’ve learnt over the years
Better to go short sleeved
Mea Culpa
MEA CULPA
Life is singing you hear
Hear music in your heart
But when you try singing
You find you’re out of tune
Memory Lane
MEMORY LANE
I quite like
revisiting
ancient haunts;
lightly caressing
the memories evoked.
I learnt long ago
the foolishness
of regret,
of expectation
or disappointment.
Regrets
REGRETS
I can’t recall anyone
I didn’t disappoint in some way
Apart from the ones
Who couldn’t care less about me
In the first place
Expectations
EXPECTATIONS
Two children were each given an acorn to plant.
The first was interested, pleased, impressed, deeply moved as it gradually grew into an oak tree, a transformation she could never have anticipated, scarcely have believed possible.
The other was bitterly disappointed.
She had wanted a beech tree.
