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 Aug 2017 Paul Jones
Valsa George
We live in a house, simple and nice
With a garden lined with crotons in rows
Not so neatly trimmed or pruned as before
And a lawn not always well manicured
But abounding in plants with blooms of varied hue
From shady corners, orchids peep
They bring forth flowers in bunches and mass
Only on certain seasons, not the year round.
Then a visual treat to the eyes, indeed!

Trees big and small border our land
Mango trees and jack fruit trees
Coconut palms and guava trees
Twining creepers with globular passion fruits
Bushy plants of sweet and sour berries
Rose apples, papayas and Chinese limes
An epitome of country abundance!

In front of the house was once a stretch of fields
Lush and fresh with paddy plants in June
And in autumn, bent with arching sheaves of corn
Green parakeets used to come from far
To eat the grains ready to be reaped
Having their fill they would fly westward in flocks
Such scenes were a source of instant delight

But sad enough, those fields were gradually filled
In place of paddy and other seasonal crops
Industrial units, big and small have emerged
By degrees, the quiet and coolness of the place
That once soothed our frayed nerves are gone
Now an exodus of men have landed here
Laborers who have come from Northern states
To eke out a living in a better clime
Speaking languages, Bengali, Hindi and Tamil
Leaving the area noisy with incessant chatter

Along the road that runs parallel to our house
Now speeds past, motors in unbroken row
Honking horns and raising a screen of smoky dust
Spoiling the ambiance of our verdant setting
And badly impairing the neat surroundings
But with every change of scene and setting
We, like nomads cannot change our stay or dwelling

Well acclimatized to all noise and commotion
We now stick to our home, our humble haven
And strive to create within an inner landscape
Not polluted by the ravages of time or clime

Home is the sanctuary where we roost and rest
A sweet dwelling, more than all mansions blest
And it should be an abode of love where hearts embrace
Every turn of life, grim or merry with no fuss but with grace

How sweet it is to dwell beneath this roof
Our wedded life’s enduring love’s living proof!
 Aug 2017 Paul Jones
Idiosyncrasy
Die
Maybe we are any
Of two numbers
On opposite sides of a die
Constant...
I will have that.
Constant but not together.
 Aug 2017 Paul Jones
cheryl love
Out of the blue
he grabbed me
sent me from pillar to post
there was little to oversee
but I saw my ghost
it was the shadow of me
a year in which to come
there was little to oversee
just that I saw what I'd become.
I did not care for the vision
it scared me beyond my dreams
there was little to oversee
or so it seems.
Cant alter my past but
I can make a change to the present
could do nothing more than I did
and believe me it was not pleasant.
I grabbed my shadow and bent the rules
I surrounded it with a home truth
I told it I am not what I used to be
I had in fact altered my youth.
The shadow disappeared
out of the blue
and then it reappeared
it had made me brand new.
So my life has changed
just as if it was on cue
all of this happened
it was if it was out of the blue.
 Aug 2017 Paul Jones
Idiosyncrasy
Now there is only
one thing left to say
I love you
Always
That is not a metaphor.
We writers have a way of expressing our love in ways that sometimes people do not understand. We try to cover our love with sweet words like everyone's favorite chocolate or sparkles brighter than the diamonds on fingers. Then, there is pain too. Sometimes our words are sadder than we are. Sometimes they cannot even contain the intensity of what we feel. In the end, what we really want to offer is our love.

I plan to make this the ending of a long poem but I have not written anything more yet so this is all there is for now.
 Aug 2017 Paul Jones
Garry
Brunch-lunch, potatoes, potatoes
Sausages, bacon and beans.
Black Pudding and mushrooms
Tomatoes and egg
Served with coffee
and freshly baked bread.

And when it's all eaten
and everything's done,
I'll take myself out
for a walk
or maybe just sit in the sun
Just a bit of fun before dinner.
 Aug 2017 Paul Jones
Garry
Stark edges of the skyline
Shades of grey against the blue
I’m capturing the mountains
And giving them
To you

But you say that you don’t want  them
Don’t need anything from me
& you toss them in the waste bin
But you still won’t set
Me free.
 Aug 2017 Paul Jones
Garry
Furl the sails
Drop the lines
Drift gently
to the shore

Find peace in  the
placid twilight
&sail life's stormy seas
no more
From an idea on twitter at #TLPoetry
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