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 Jan 2017 Luisa C
Blossom
A snowflake kissed me
Upon my bright cherry cheeks
The softest kisses
 Jan 2017 Luisa C
Q
Snowy Night
 Jan 2017 Luisa C
Q
Swirly tufts of white
Flaking from the sky
They sting my hands red but
I couldn't be happier

Sprinkles of icy fluff
Blanketing all in pearly dust
They numb my cherry nose but
Nothing could be daintier

Whipped dollops of frozen frosting
Piping up wedding cake houses
They bite my cheeks raw but
This snowy night couldn't be prettier
 Jan 2017 Luisa C
Valsa George
Sitting in a restaurant
Over a cup of coffee
And silently having our dinner
With hardly anything exciting
Either to brag or blather
My eyes got hooked
On the occupants of the table, next

Two kids, seated on small chairs
A boy and a girl, obviously a pair of twins
Adorably cute, their father, so young
Who having placed the order
Were in wait for their turn

Carrying a tray, as the waiter arrived
With something of the plainest kind,
Small cartons of French fries,
Bottles of sauce and plain ice cream
The little faces gleamed in excitement
Their beaded eyes riveted,
And their heads bobbed in happy approval

As their Dad opened the carton
And placed before them
French fries sprinkled with some sauce
The children, sprang to their feet
With an upsurge of delight,
Jumping up and down,
Clapping their hands and shouting!

At a small distance, sat we
‘Solemnly’ consuming our meal
With nothing to titillate our palette
Or excite our toned nerves

I thought;
How, in course of time,
Everything becomes a routine ritual
And what stark difference
Between our subdued composure
And the overwhelming excitement of kids!
They haven’t learned yet
That such open expression of emotions,
Is not in keeping with accepted norms

To what peaks of joy, they get catapulted
With mere trifles and silly baubles
While we remain ever at the bottom
Unable to be lifted up

Is this what we call aging?

Or is it

The death of spring
The summer’s dirge
Autumn’s mellowing
Or the chill wave of winter’s blast??
I don't know if it is a poem or a simple narration! But this can be read like a story. Life presents so many such interesting scenes if we are watchful ! Observing children's artless behavior is always a pleasure!
 Jan 2017 Luisa C
yúyīn
She whispered-
innocence in my ear,
while her hands crawled
under the covers and
called her a liar.
@.**
oft one is in
a huge quandary
as to where to put
an apostrophe

there's no room for one
to make a mistake
due to the little dash
being dipped in the wrong lake

is it it's or is it not
how oft one has forgot
how this tiny marking
does well allot

one must be
ever aware and alert
when dealing
with a tricky invert
 Jan 2017 Luisa C
lei
origin
 Jan 2017 Luisa C
lei
i truly believe
that you are made of stardust
and flower petals.
to jww.
 Jan 2017 Luisa C
lei
Untitled
 Jan 2017 Luisa C
lei
the sun is setting.
i point my gaze to the sky
and wait for the moon.

as the moon rises,
the words in my throat do, too.
i hope you love me.
And there it was.
your toothbrush
still in its usual spot
the perfect epitomy
of what is left of
what I feel for you

it is the last of
all that you left behind
the proofs that you were once here
an item on display
the final thing to throw away
but I don’t do it.

dusty and morphed
it shows signs of use
yet being untouched for so long
sitting there and waiting
for nothing
a lonely cobwebbed fool

it reminded me of better days
of the closeness and the comfort
it hit me just like that
a glance and a notice
I was trapped in flashbacks
all from a **** toothbrush

there is little left of what I feel for you
yet there it still sits
a subconscious essence
and once it was acknowledged
it brought be back to our befores
when you used to use that toothbrush
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