Morning Mizzle

You showed up on my bedroom shutters,
with a light and playful, pitter-patter,
a zillion, tiny, drops of drizzle
delighting in a dewy dance.


Eyes closed, body still, I keenly listened,
 to your hypnotic, steady, soothing rhythm,
and when the misty music suddenly ended,
I had fallen into a dreamy trance.

Morning, 
your mood today is dark and lazy,
despite dawn's debut of rainy energy,
 so, until the sun dries up your puddles,
I'll stay warm and snug in my cocoon covers.


Inspired by this morning's mizzle,
written for Poets United, Midweek Motif
 

Defining Decisions

 Defining Decisions

Some, are easier than others,

 requiring no pondering, no cerebral scale

to weigh each crucial detail,

before it's stored for future use.

Then, there are those that are made for you,

perhaps due to a circumstance you did not expect,

yet in the wake of it, fatefully directs you

towards your destined path.

The ones, though, which most torment my soul,

   hover forever in my mind, and thus, 

in that nebulous existence, 

remain confined and undefined.

Written for 'The Poetry Pantry'
at Poets United

A Budding Romance

April, I long for the arrival of your

 ethereal splendour, daylight that dazzles,

 elemental harmony and enchanting nights.

 I confess:

in the springtime of my being, 

my romance with October,

(which proved to be a fling, 

and should have been
 over decades ago), 

 blinded me from seeing

how romantically appealing 

you can truly be.

So, thank you, sweet April, 

for the meadows of soft petals 

that cushion my sore feet,

  for the sparkly rays of 

sunshine that adorn my shoulders,

for the dewy, dainty raindrops

 that trickle down my lashes

 and for the fragrant blossoms 

that prompt my heart to skip a beat.

Now, in the autumn of my days,

the praise of leafy luxury

 has morphed into malaise, since,

 what follows fallen foliage

- winter's barren browns

and callous whites -

 could never ignite the passion 

 found in springtime's floral brights.

 Written for Susan's Midweek Motif:

'April', at Poets United

Thanks for visiting!

Poppy

A Matter of Taste

 

 'Do you like it?', she excitedly asked,

smiling, and expecting me to answer
positively and wholeheartedly 

to her pressing, culinary inquiry. 
 

Suddenly,

the forks went down,

the knives stood by,

the glasses clinked,

my mouth went dry.

'It's delicious!', I, of course, replied,

but the eyes don't lie, do they?

Instantly,

it seemed everyone had lost their appetite -

(the perfect excuse not to eat another bite!),

I bet.

 

And so, 

as cutlery etiquette goes,

every knife and fork disclosed 
(plate position 4:20 on the nose!), 
that dinner time was duly over.

 
 Dessert was promptly served, and
 as the coffee was being stirred,
 I hoped that my honest reaction
to my hostess's 'trick' question 
wasn't too much of an indiscretion;
 believe me, that wasn't my intention! 

 After all,
it's impossible to be objective
with regards to matters of taste:
 we're wired to be selective,
when our buds are faced  
with salty or sweet,
veggies or meat,
black or white, but
 when it comes to
who is wrong or
what is right,
we're not. That, 
takes thought, 
and plenty of it. 

Written for Susan's Midweek Motif:
'Neutrality/Objectivity' 
at Poet's United

Thanks for visiting!

Poppy