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I. The Boy With The Cuckoo Clock Heart

Born with a frozen heart,
abandoned in
Edinburgh.

One kind physician
laid her hands upon him,
in a bit of medicinal salvation,
by placing a cuckoo clock
inside his chest.

Now an orphan,
among peculiar friends:
tear-filled flasks,
eggs containing memories,
and a man with a musical spine.

There's but one catch
for this boy:
his heart is fragile,
he must never, ever
fall in love.

Existence is undoubted.
But without this one emotion,
can he really live?

Love is a bitter token.


II. The Girl With Glass Feet

"It was a humid night,
later to become a hated night."

Upon an island sound,
feet first, she is slowing turning
into glass.

By sheer happenstance,
she meets a shy boy
who lives there
with an extreme fear
of being touched.

As she slowly disappears,
she untethers herself
from self-pity,
by teaching the boy the value
of interaction.

Inchmeal, he begins to reach out
and feels everything
she has lost to the night.

Love is a bitter token.


III. The Snow Child

"November was here."

A married couple,
in Alaskan remote,
suffering from one great sadness:
no child of their own
and unable to talk of it.

He's buried by
the weight of the outer ice,
she's crumbling
from inner despair.

And so on a rare
friendly day trek,
they built a child out of snow,
outfitted with mittens and scarf.

A day later it is gone,
remembered only in absentia,
yet there appears
a beautifully arrayed
creature of winter,
a little, lissome girl in the woods,
hunting with the red fox.

In wishing to understand
these encounters,
the couple come to love the child
as their very own daughter.

Yet will she ever accept them
as they do her?

Or see them
merely as snowdrops?

Figurines frosted over by
the harsh landscape
they each wander?

Love is a bitter token.
BLT's continued challenge - to write a poem using the Merriam-Webster word of the day, lissome. It's in there somewhere.
The lonely dog

Middle of nowhere

On the street

In search of food, maybe sleep

None to his rescue

In the middle of the night

He quips
A little observation post midnight,
Catching up with the breeze :)
Life in monochrome
Has been smooth and safe
The world of colours, allures
Newer avenues, shores
Measured steps  
A journey to embrace
A rainbow awaits
Thank you so much, for the sunshine here, V, you are gracious and kind :) ☀️
Destinies can be customised
ill fate can’t be changed

A jay walk in the middle of chaos
Wise would not be the choice

Less is visible to the eyes of the old
Yet, there is much to behold

A worn out piece of art
Still a part of someone’s heart

Foggy mirrors cool down
And show the truth in light after all
Wings of butterfly  

Swallowtails burgundy-green

Leaves on tender stems
Christia  obcordata
H
Does hurt gets hurt bringing in hurt

Hurt hatred, help and heal

Make a start with the same letter H

How it ends it stays with the word

Quiet is the heart, which is quite at peace

Cementing the layers of love and
happiness within
In silence I stood
Dazzled by
The beauty that was
And is
Faded, not lost
Of the ancient temples
The architecture, the carvings on the walls
The floral murals and the central lotus pond
Speaks of souls
Who stepped here before
Teleporting to the time
When the foundation stone was laid
The breeze
A sense of déjà vu
A silent spectator
A shelter
And has brought souls together in marriage
A witness to many wars
Coronations of kings
Kingdoms lost
Seers and ascetics
The alchemist
Under the roof
Rhythmic chants of sacred verses
The sound of the conch blowing and bell
Is it all
Of the worlds
The temple has seen
Wanting and waiting to show
Am I ready
I am yet to know
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