Monday, February 16, 2015


The bejewelled, decorous butterflies sleep
No fluttering phoenix will arise awhile yet
To wander along the long, summer days
There is no beauty to drive away cold
Breach a hollow in this winter's heart
But yet the first spider is now stirring
A small associate of its shapeless kind
Hairy harbinger of dread from evolution
Imprinting a silhouette of terror upon us
To sit in dark spaces, keep watch on night
Empty day of its flies and you are most welcome
Remind me of fates touch, time is the spider we fear
Time waits in lieu of payment as we flutter in its web
And yet I shall give time no pleasure; it may wait
As I wait for the dancing colours to birth like rainbows
Now in the cold of winter, hoping the summer is kind