What the Historians never told us,
And Astrologers never said.
An Apocalypse would come and go,
Leaving a Dark Age in its stead.
You’d think they’d know, these folks who ‘see’,
They predict rain and war and wealth.
Them for who the stars align,
Who prescribe caution and great stealth?
Men who chart our destiny and fate
Based on random times of birth.
Mukti – The Release
You burst through the clouds, high on life,
My dashing daddy and your beautiful wife.
A cheer goes up from the gathered crowds,
‘Welcome,’ they cry, ‘now shrug off your shrouds.’
Beaming with joy, you show her around,
this peaceful Haven you both have found.
Family and friends long gone from earth,
come up to you, almost skipping with mirth.
‘Is it always like this?’ Ma asks, holding on to your hand.
You’d arrived two months ago, to survey the land.
‘Yes,’ you reply, ‘but I missed you so.’
Dadu, The Friendly Ghost
Rita fought back the tears as she left the school office clutching her six-year old’s hand.
‘This was the second time, Sammy,’ she chided gently. ‘We need this to stop you know. Even Mrs MacDougal is getting a little tired now.’
The little boy said nothing as they walked back to the car. She had to wait awhile after he got in and watched helplessly as he fiddled with the other seat belt next to him, chattering happily to the empty space between them.
This imaginary friend had appeared soon after his dad had left them. The raw pain of that evening hit her again, as their cosy little world had been turned upside down with a few short sentences.
‘I’m leaving you Reet,’ Amit had said. ‘I’ve been in love with Judy for a while now, and she is expecting our baby soon.
‘What about our child,’ she had cried wildly? ‘What about Sammy?’
Procrastinator
Today ran away from me, I know not where it went,
It was early morning last I looked, and now the days all spent.
Many chores I had and plans I’d made, so much work to do,
Writing, laundry, cook and clean… the weekly shopping too.
A trip to the mall, but Asda first, we are running low on bread,
Meat and veg and salad too, Himself needs to be fed.
A wedding present to be bought, I knew just what to get,
All written neatly on my list in case I just forget.
Plans – (a recipe for life)
Lying flat on our backs under the Milky Way
Half asleep I hear you say
‘We love it here, shall we stay
back in Africa, warm every day?’
I love my life with you, my dear
This mad adventure, this world out here
‘But now’ I say, ‘I’m crystal clear
Our recipe for life, moves up a gear.’