Friday, December 23, 2016
And the Winter Mellows
And the winter mellows
Like mulled wine, like
Soft shards of warmth
Flavoured with citrus rinds
And cinnamon browns;
Sturdy textures knitted snug;
Impossibly blue skies
Shot with times of
Quiet reflection or
Of joyous merriment...
And the winter mellows,
Softening me round
The edges as it goes...
Monday, December 19, 2016
Pickle in the Sun
A thought left to pickle in the sun,A green seedling from the mind
Left to mature into
A full-bodied creature...
An idea caught by the neck and
Trapped into a glass jar, in
The company of salt and turmeric,
A pint of mustard oil,
The juices of a dozen limes,
Grandmama's secret spice mix,
Dollops of tender loving care, and
Just half-a-teaspoon of
Breathless anticipation—
A good tumble or two with
An old serviceable ladle of yore,
And then a sunny corner of the apartment
Dusted and prepared for the glass-topped martaban
To sit in for a fortnight or thereabouts—
And so a germinating thought is left
To pickle in the winter sun...
