Verses of Winter


Coriander breath
sighed by a huddled kitchen
warming itself
in gasps of frostbitten stove,
blends in citrus honeydew realms
of a gossamer winter morn.

pea-pods pop out syllables
of a sumptuous delight,
to flavor insipid
moments of bleached twilights.

empty vases
yearn for daffodil daydreams
prematurely spawned
afore March,

eggs Benedicts congeal
on frozen porcelain moments,
while a lukewarm coffee
patiently cools
tired heels on tiles of boredom.

like a morsel
unswallowed and clogging
throat of contemplation,
a poem begs to burp
out its words in varied decibels

~ a pent up thought
scribbling itself on chameleon clouds
to emblazon the innermost emotions
of winter in hues of autumn…


2 thoughts on “Verses of Winter

  1. It amazes me how you blend your cold morning into your life on a typical winter day, and then, surprisingly, sprinkle your environment with the aroma of wonderful spices. India is replete with delicious spices, and you use them bountifully to describe your daily life.
    The way you personify your rich daily environment is balanced with your true feelings that well up from deep within.
    For example, “pea-pods pop out syllables/of a sumptuous delight”- Here the inanimate becomes animate (alive), but then, you say, “to flavor insipid moments of bleached twilights.” You lead your reader to a deeper level, wondering how the story connects the two events. This is the genius of poetry.
    And there is more . . .
    “eggs Benedicts congeal on frozen porcelain moments” – they come alive, in an insipid way, . . .” (sigh) “. . . while a lukewarm coffee patiently cools tired heels on tiles of boredom.” – Wow! I see the eggs, non-caring, sinking their identity into the food on the plate and the coffee, which should be refreshing, but even it doesn’t care about its recipient.
    And then, there is hope! The poem “begs to burp
    out its words in varied decibels” and your hands begin to scribe for you all of your winter emotions . . . your “pent up thought . . . on chameleon clouds, to emblazon the innermost emotions/ of winter in hues of autumn.”

    In your latter lines the words begin to foreshadow hope . . . the beauty of winter and your joy in it, scribbling itself on “chameleon clouds”. Even though autumn is shifting away, winter is coming, and it will emblazon in you another kind of beauty.
    In some ways, it seems that the “everyday”, which makes you weary, slowly births new images in you, and this gives you energy. You grab a pencil and begin writing voraciously! Aha! Creativity, and Beauty, thrive!
    I, too, have experienced this phenomenon. Poetry is part of the Holy that imbeds our consciousness and keeps us going
    . . . and alive!

    Thanks again for sharing! – Jeanne Smith, McPherson, KS

    P.S. By the way, my friend, where do you live in India? My husband and I led 20 American college students to study at Cochin School of Science and Technology in Kerala in 1999. We were in Gujarat State the last couple of years, visiting and teaching. This year it appears we may not go, but hopefully, we’ll get back again sometime in the future. “Have a beautiful day!

    Jeanne Smith, McPherson, KS USA

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