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Alankar (Decor) -35

The Giddy(Catena Rondo)

When all compulsions swirl around
Born the Giddy by its stature
Frenzy is the Giddy's feature
When all compulsions swirl around

Born the Giddy by its stature
Menaced to menace imbalanced
All chores incomplete unbalanced
Born the Giddy by its stature

Menaced to menace imbalanced
A responsive dad unable
Inattentive pitiable
Menaced to menace imbalanced

A responsive dad unable
Amid all tantrum, conundrum
Menacing Giddy born there from

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poem by Indira Renganathan
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Chocolate And Vanilla Swirl

When I was a child
I spoke, thought, reasoned as a child
My favorite treat on a hot summer day
Was a chocolate vanilla ice cream swirl
I'd have it for every meal if I had my way.

When I became a women
Grown and mature
I put aside all childish things
Everything but my love
For chocolate vanilla swirl
My only indulgence to my inner girl.

Not so very long ago
That swirl of chocolate and vanilla
Melded in a way I'd never dreamed of
Ice melted by fire
Our trust and desire
Sweetly blended
Bodies so entwined

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poem by Esther Brush
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Spinning into Regret

Whirl, whirl, whirl
Swirl, swirl, swirl
Turn, turn, turn
Spin, spin, spin
Twirl, twirl, twirl
Stop, stop, stop
Dizzy, dizzy, dizzy
Fall, fall, fall
Sick, sick, sick
Regret, regret, regret

poem by Sylvia Matzek
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Divine Perception Of A Broken Mind

inside the colors swirl

a dream
a nightmare
an elegy of madness

looking thru the mirror
you find but yourself
broken

inside the colors swirl

a pulse
a rhythm
an avantgarde cycle

trying to hear your mind
you hear screaming voices
divine

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poem by Desmond Blaine
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The Digger's Song

Scrape the bottom of the hole: gather up the stuff,
Fossick in the crannies, lest you leave a grain
behind,
Just another shovelful and that'll be enough,-
Now we'll take it to the bank and see what we can
find,
Give the dish a twirl around,
Let the water swirl around,
Gently let it circulate, there's music in the swish,
And the tinkle of the gravel,
As the pebbles quickly travel
Around in merry circles on the bottom of the dish.

Ah, if man could only wash his life, if he only could,
Panning off the evil deeds, keeping but the
good,
What a mighty lot of digger's dishes would be sold,
Though I fear the heap of tailings would be greater

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poem by Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
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Forever and a Day

The swirl of the night hazes the imaginations of the dead
And wakes the fantasties of the living.
A fog seeps into brains, screaming, 'Forever! '
Forever and a day, that is how long isolation shall last.
That is how long your love, lust and hate shall last.
But only can that be accepted in the swirl of the night when fog begins to seep.

poem by Brianna R. W.
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Waters Into Wine

There is no love like the sea brings!
Of tides and storms, or your wanderings.
For you, too, swirl your eddies at the moon,
And flow and ebb at my every afternoon.

The mornings see you cold in discontent
Towing frostily at the night spent;
And gathering your gown around each rivulet
You scatter late stars in your bathroom pirouette.

But evenings - ah - and there the change begins,
When your warmer currents give my feelings wings,
And you lap at shores and forests ill-defined
'Til your breakers beat your waters into wine.

And when love casts long runnels at my feet
To swirl and charm, and make my life complete,
I glimpse beyond some hidden pool that lies
And fancy tides that move behind your eyes.

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poem by David Lewis Paget
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The Snowfall

Oh the slow fall of snow,
Its unending blanketing swirl!
Yet my mind's eye was giving shape
To what couldn't be kept hidden,
That in the white drifts each fleck
Is known, weighed, counted.

Oh you spinning dancing flakes,
Your tiny souls and personalities
Withstand gravity, weightlessness, wind,
In your coming and going
I see your destinies glide down,
Which you begin, fulfill, begin . . .

This one falls soft and like wool,
The next is crystal and tenacious,
The third's a clenched fist of struggle.
Yet their white realm disperses by morning,
Thus one doesn't die from the rest,
And they dissolve into the purest drop shapes.

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poem by Franz Werfel
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A dance?

a dance?
a candle flame
courting
faint breeze
to and fro
to and fro
slender
shadows

the autumn leaf
twists, twists
on a twig
eve of separation
lovers refusing
each other go

red and brown maple
swirl in unison
beat their last drum
then let themselves

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poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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My Little March Girl

Come to the pane, draw the curtain apart,
There she is passing, the girl of my heart;
See where she walks like a queen in the street,
Weather-defying, calm, placid and sweet.
Tripping along with impetuous grace,
Joy of her life beaming out of her face,
Tresses all truant-like, curl upon curl,
Wind-blown and rosy, my little March girl.

Hint of the violet's delicate bloom,
Hint of the rose's pervading perfume!
How can the wind help from kissing her face,--
Wrapping her round in his stormy embrace?
But still serenely she laughs at his rout,
She is the victor who wins in the bout.
So may life's passions about her soul swirl,
Leaving it placid,--my little March girl.

What self-possession looks out of her eyes!
What are the wild winds, and what are the skies,

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poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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