Howzzat!

The ringmaster takes his whip The horserider, his rein The soldier, his rifle The teacher, his cane The mother, her daughter's hair. Oiled and ruffled, Tangled and mangled, The mother in hindsight Knows she has to combat- to fight Alas! No comb in sight. Mother now wrought with worry; 'Twas infantry with no inventory The kid brother scoots around His eyes constantly on the prowl For the wicked comb is at large And was he not the one in charge? The mother hastens the kid And the detective makes his bid- Lunges under the sofa with aplomb And lo! Quite an entrance for a comb! The vision of her mother, now armed Makes Miriam increasingly alarmed. Mother says "Hush! it's alright" But each tug worsens her plight As mother deftly fashions a plait From twig like strands of a sparrow's nest, Putting all her nifty skills to test. Miriam prays for her travail to end There are endless classes left to attend. The blue ribbon comes to her aid. Miriam lauds the perfection m...

Silence beckons me Stillness absolves my every thought Darkness engulfs me like an endless sea, I feel my soul - lifeless and taut. Follow my eyes; they lead nowhere Nothing opaque seems to strike my glance No I’m not stoned, nor sick - I swear I better not ask myself, ‘is this all a trance?’ Thoughts throng my skull like birds caged Wrecking my every nerve and every vein I strive to set them free: but raged For my every attempt ends in vain. My fingers quiver as I write Longing to fold themselves in prayer With all my strength, I mouth ‘at the end of the tunnel there’s light’ I am my very own soothsayer. ‘Breathe!’ my mind bellows beneath I obey; a surge of calmness takes over, The tempest subdued but not done with With effort, I finally ease my soul and let it hover.