Sunday, 20 December 2020

Not a Pie


The heart’s not a pie, but how convenient

that it’s sliced into four, that it can hold

different concentrations of oxygen

simultaneously. Degrees untold

of love and thankfulness and resentment

together and apart, correctly controlled,

disparate, immiscible, vast oceans.


How fortunate that it can celebrate

and grieve at the same time. It can contain

brimming tears, and itself. Yet cascade

joy, radiate peace, friendship. Entertain

opposable thumbs of thoughts with innate

ease. It can loathe clouds but still love the rain,

petrichor, bedewed grass, the shade of shade.


  1. It is indeed a multi-faceted and multi-functional thing. Which breaks (and sometimes heals) more easily than we realise.
    I do hope there is ALWAYS room in mine, for love, for laughter and for the scent of rain...

    1. It's really got nifty space management! :) Wishing you always what you're hoping for.

  2. you always present things in such a unique way. I love this poem and your comment above about space management. Take good care and indeed the biggest space needs to be for love.

    1. Thanks, Joanne. Indeed we need to carve out a bigger space share for love. Season's best to you.

  3. Hi Nila - again late ... the pie - what a wonderful poetic description ... and it breathes us on into the now ... take care and all the very best for an easier year ahead. Hilary