my garden is alive
the aloes are in bloom
spelling no doom
   but only life in abundance
they proclaim a magnificence
in vibrant, flowing, flaming red glory
the bees on my aloes have always known
about the natural goodness in this hardy species
we are mere followers

despite cloudy weather and stormy seas
despite the malice of my  hidden enemies
the sneers and chuckles of silent assassins
lurking in the shadows of all my mishaps
my nascent spirit came shining through
timid and shy at first like a slice of moon
then in a huge roar mightier than the lion's
warmer than the sun breaking through cloud
and there i was, one bright and happy day
in triumph even when they willed it not

it's one of those nippy  nasty days
but i like my town nevertheless
  Even with its infamous cold
numbing my senses and cramping my jaw
there's an unfailing antidote to all that:
a wood fire with smoke going up the chimney
and warmth radiating around the room
add a steaming cup of tea to that and a voice on the radio
or a glass of opaque beer brewed the indigenous way
seven days of fermentation like the story of creation
the dog has its tail between its legs and whimpers speechless tears
baby lizards dart to spots where the sun sometimes rests
and i sit in my armchair dreaming about warmer days
but happy that there is a contrast that enhances the pleasure
thus we must always be grateful for this little thing, this treasure
the smile from a loved one that melts all the ice
makes the sun come shining through
and makes us whole again