Oct 2016
Love is a funny word,
tossed around
recklessly,
thrown as if
a polished burgundy cricket ball
you’re supposed to catch
before it crosses the boundary.
It’s just a word,
no different than tea
or jodhpur or penguins
but we treat it as more,
said too little
or far too often,
a glittering jewel
seen as a trigger for something.
Use it if you mean it;
don’t mean it, it’s no use.
tossed around
recklessly,
thrown as if
a polished burgundy cricket ball
you’re supposed to catch
before it crosses the boundary.
It’s just a word,
no different than tea
or jodhpur or penguins
but we treat it as more,
said too little
or far too often,
a glittering jewel
seen as a trigger for something.
Use it if you mean it;
don’t mean it, it’s no use.
Written: September 2016.
Explanation: To mark National Poetry Day on 6th October, I wrote 25 poems over the course of eight days, and sent one poem each to one of 25 of my Facebook friends. After some deliberation, I am now posting the poems on HP (in order of when they were written), albeit not all in one go. 'Firework' is poem one, for those of you who wish to read the series in full, in order. None of the poems are about their recipients. All feedback welcome. A link to my Facebook writing page can be found on my HP home page.
NOTE: Many of my older pieces will be removed from HP at some point in the future.
Explanation: To mark National Poetry Day on 6th October, I wrote 25 poems over the course of eight days, and sent one poem each to one of 25 of my Facebook friends. After some deliberation, I am now posting the poems on HP (in order of when they were written), albeit not all in one go. 'Firework' is poem one, for those of you who wish to read the series in full, in order. None of the poems are about their recipients. All feedback welcome. A link to my Facebook writing page can be found on my HP home page.
NOTE: Many of my older pieces will be removed from HP at some point in the future.
