Windows to the World

The musty smell of old worn out pages

Which have seen more life than your grandmother,

Or the lovely promising smell of new pages

Which are anticipating an excited wonder.

The glossy happy cover or the warning, dark look

A famous author or a raving review,

Whatever draws you to a particular book

The journey through it is paralleled by few.

The insistent jabs of curiosity

Or the need for an emotional flush,

The drive to attain virtuosity

Or experience the rare adrenaline rush.

Bile raising accounts of torture

Or the warm inner glow of the loved,

Whatever hopes you nurture

Can be realised looking through the windows to the world.

Misunderstood

Glittering in the sunlight, the lovely streamline,

Adorning her beauty, catching everyone’s eye.

Try as hard as she might, free was the brine,

Unfathomable purity, shines through when you cry.

Dragging and hobbling, with a pain that is alive,

Morning bed to the bathroom, seemed a chore from the hades

Elating and uplifting, his joy refused to take a dive,

Beyond the field or the locker room, the victory never fades.

Branches swayed and danced, as the gusts of wind blew,

The trees stood solidly, as the world unfolded around

And they cringed and blanched, wishing they could eschew,

The vehicles zooming speedily, making toxic vapors abound.

Well meaning to sadistic, sarcastic to sweet,

Intentions are intrinsic, interpretations are not.

Breath-taking to rustic, intelligent to dweeb,

Qualities are generic, perceptions are not.

The First Fight

Filled with purpose, she stumbled along the words,

Some beautiful, some alien,

But something gnawed on her heart’s chords,

The want of the one in a million.

The thin, long hand ticked by slowly,

Without any signs of mercy.

Her eyes trained on the door expectantly,

For her love in her favorite jersey.

However when the awaited moment arrived,

Red anger replaced the longing,

Unaware of the storm, he smiled,

But a stony silence hit him, hard and stinging.

He apologized, he pleaded,

But she had very harsh things to say,

He defended, he begged,

But the temper of the shrew does not easily sway.

Soon the first drop of rain fell,

Forging a path down his left cheek.

The hard stone turned to gel,

The pain in her throat made her weak.

“The absence of your smile hurts me more,

Than any imaginable thing in this world”, he said.

The horror of guilt filled her core,

Pulling him close, she hugged him and said,

“I love you.”