The Fizzy and The Still

she sits on the low veranda,
the night her only companion,
crickets lustily cheer her silence,
and the moon valiantly struggles through the leaves,
covering her in pebbled light,
making a chessboard of her cascading black hair,
her thoughts are distant and random,
of fleeting memories,
snatched conversations,
of the bitter and the sweet,
her mind as if browsing in a book store,
fleeting about,
easily bored, easily distracted,
both fizzy as well as still.....

Weather the Bride

the first little signs,
wish the dohar was thicker,
the morning cup a hot chocolate,
my baddy tshirt warmer,
the very first signs,
the grass crunchier under my feet,
the air nipper,
the early sun, welcome on my face,
these are the very first signs,
signs that winter is upon us,
how my heart yearns to sing,
my feet to gig,
for the weather is a bride again......