Wednesday, 19 March 2014

Ordinary palm-hearts







There is really no need for you to know
my ways of loving; the ways I have loved you
destitute, desperate, hungry, hollow
but incandescent, a candle whose flame glows
inside a wax canopy, delicately see-through.


You can look at the wax, think what you do,
think my ways are ordinary ways
and that ordinary bit would be as true
there’s nothing to misconstrue
about a candle – wax, wick, a flick of flame;
not even original, just the same
old cliché to keep the darkness ablaze.


The wax the colour of toddy palm-hearts and truth
but you may as well stop at the crust of the fruit.








3 comments:

  1. Brilliantly composed first verse. One of those things that make you want to think why didn't I think of it *sigh* reading your poetry is a delight.

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    Replies
    1. This is serious. Can't take delight lightly. Thank you :)

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