Of patience and willingness.

The tides attack the shore,

And attack ain’t attack when intensity lowers.

Lost in an array of swirling thoughts,

That feature only at lights off,

Never would anyone understand.

Timing enjoying prominence,

Blood-pumpers shunned such a virtue

Accounting for exceptions.

Thorough back-checks are the norm,

To love, not all.

To shovel for such a person,

Needs an entire span, or not?

Censure yourself with baskets and rebounds.

Half-hearted attacks never ended in smile-spreads.

Interest in else warrants the same.

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Why do we disagree?

From the vast expanse of pale cream, a ray pierced the sill Some say that’s the epitome of ill. Never did she utter such trope And never did she hear a dawn's rising chirp. Sans a countenance that evoked despair or drivel, she did glide o'er cold Earth cavorting joy. Encumbered by the shooing words of a restless few and her held wish of an inside hue began she a ritual of healthy hoy. Words that gushed forth like water in a meadow’s pump, Though never held captive by a day's dump Did stem on a lad's cloy. To say that one impacted the other is to clutch a long straw with baby paw. Another ritual of a weekly shed Did in itself a worldly good To the ...

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Word and Action

An intention to do good, be good and say good. Lay in all, lest their growth endured tumult. Her words sang a mellow tune to melt the heart While inconsistencies in action sang another. As the ear sought to resolve this tussle the mind fashioned another puzzle. Of lies, lasses and love Or a dual-blend of the above.

Verses from a recess.

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