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  Jul 2016 D J Syngai
Valsa George
Let me be,
As God intended me to be:
Neither a wicked elf,
Nor a fairy godmother,
Never a demon,
Nor an angel,
But a true woman,
Oh! No, not the ‘Phenomenal Woman’
Of Maya Angelou,
Drawing a hive of honey bees round
‘With the span of my hips
Or the stride of my steps’
But,
One with a loving heart,
Calm and caring
Though at times touchy and itchy

A gracious host and a helpful neighbor
Able to stand in my own light
And lessen the darkness of the night

An abiding spouse
In whom my man can see
An ocean of love in my dewy eyes
And feel the steady warmth of my grip
When the seas of life grow stormy,

For my children, an adorable mother
In whom they can confide,
Their doubt, despair or delight
A counselor, a friend and guide
With the balm to heal their wounds
Touch and move their spirits
And show them the miracle of love

Piecing together these different roles
Let me, into a close knit texture weave
The fabric of my life!
Like the interlacing threads
Of a great tapestry!

In a way, is not living the art of quilting
Bringing out unique patterns
Of exquisite beauty and delight
From the scraps thrown in our way!
How like a winter hath my absence been
From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!
What old December’s bareness everywhere!
And yet this time removed was summer’s time,
The teeming autumn, big with rich increase,
Bearing the wanton burden of the prime,
Like widowed wombs after their lords’ decease:
Yet this abundant issue seemed to me
But hope of orphans, and unfathered fruit,
For summer and his pleasures wait on thee,
And thou away, the very birds are mute.
    Or, if they sing, ’tis with so dull a cheer,
    That leaves look pale, dreading the winter’s near.
D J Syngai Jun 2016
He made me
Believe we could
Live Forever;

But turns out
Our naive love
Couldn't either.
-- D. J .Syngai ©2016
Was it not raining
Just minutes ago?

I could swear my eyes
Were dripping with tears
But I didn't want you to know

You were always at your best
Under a cloudy sky
I won't let my weakness show

But it's time to say goodbye
There's rain in my eyes again
Oh, how could I stoop so low

I put the flowers on my cheeks
Instead of on the ground with you
Maybe with my tears they'll grow
And I'll keep them, as I let you go
  Jun 2016 D J Syngai
Polar
It's not who you are or who you know,

What you wear or where you go.

It's not your friends or family,

Its words on a page,

In this community.

The words we use can settle scores

or open doors.

So hear a heartfelt plea from me,

Let's stop the wars and do poetry.
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