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.


  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.