lundi 31 décembre 2012

mercredi 19 décembre 2012

Love


Love



They say that love is infinite
And it may be so
While its source springs fresh

But when that flow is stopped
Love turns within,
Feeds on itself,
Destructive, self-devouring,
And turns to pain
And emptiness.

Café


Café


The populous streets of busy Paris
Swirl and whirl around me as I sit
On the covered terrace of a café,
Half-screened from the busy world outside.
The first sun of summer shines in on me,
The noises of the street blow through the open door
Fluttering the pages of my book
And carrying my mind outside.

Exam


EXAM


Heads bent, concentration,
Papers rustling,
Sudden pop-pssst of a Coke can,
Deep sigh,
Clink of bracelets, shuffle of shoes,
Tap, tap of calculators,
Faint breeze through the window,
Bird song,
Feet pacing, eyes roving,
Waft of coffee through the open door,
Stifled sneeze.
“”Just five minutes left”
- frantic scribbling.