.

Whining, it happens when blizzards come calling
Grabbing a jacket I walk down the stairs
Beside the window where winter is lurking
Waiting about as if nobody cares

Coating the trees with a cottony fabric
Not quite as warm as the heater detects
Here in the handbook of problems and answers
Only for masters to come and inspect

Grabbing a scarf from a shelf in the corner
Pouring a cup just to dance in its steam
Maybe some sugar so life can be sweeter
And just a dash of your half and half cream

Kicking the mud from the boots made of rubber
Purchased on sale at a shop on the beach
Next to the flip flops and lotion dispenser
Low to the ground and so easy to reach

Those were the days when the sun wasn’t hidden
Blanketed white like a sheet on a rope
Held up by clothespins of wooden construction
Seeking a breeze with the fresh scent of soap

Shoveling sidewalks and not chasing seashells
Feeling the cold as it bites through your skin
Running a faucet to thaw every finger
When will it be time for all this to end

I guess I will go out and trudge through the weather
Deal with the snowflakes, the slush and the sleet
Before too long I’ll be sweating the summer
Probably whining about all the heat

Face to face now with reality,
I see that all you were was a fantasy.
And that you and I were never meant to be.
The reality has hit me hard,
and I wonder now if you ever cared.
I got so caught up in the fantasy,
of you and me.
And my imagination's folly.
That I did not see clearly.
For did I ever really know you?
And did you really love me enough to know me?
All you were was a fantasy.
A figment of my imagination.
All we were was a fantasy.
But the story's over now.
The end.

In my garden is a clean little pond
Fructified by tadpoles besides tiny fish
Where water lilies bloom by day
White and violet, a lovely sight

Over it hover pairs of dragonflies
They come in plenty on summer days
When the day is bright, soon after morn
To lay their eggs on lily pads
Like helicopters, they skim up and down
With their tiny propellers coming down
Sometimes like surfers over the aqua blue,
Perform rare feats, with brisk movements
Their filmy gossamer wings glistening in sunlight
And their bulging eyes reflecting iridescent shades

If ever we try to catch one…., sensing danger
They would rocket up, as fleeting flashes of light,
Into the air…. gliding and spiraling

Even in my sixties, whenever I spot a dragonfly
My mind catches up with those memories
When as children we chased them- ‘hush hush’
Trying to trap them while they perched on a fence or pole

How delighted we were holding them between our fingers
As they helplessly shivered thrumming their filmy wings!
Making them lift small stones double their weight
In their quivering thread like hands, a huge task for them,
Had been our greatest thrill then…!
Were we sadists……??
I still wonder!