Love’s Wings

Since a fortnight the poet

Enjoys the wings of freedom

Writing about his wanderings

Across the nearby vineyards

On frozen snow

Taken to his Nordic Walking

Sticks and trekking boots

Dressed to fend off frosty

Perpetually blowing winds.

When time elapses without

The conscious mind

Put to senseless stresses

The mind and soul seek unison

And ask the body in heat

To follow.

Dreams of one’s youth stirred

By some old-time movies

Friends place generously on

Youtube for all to share.

‘We are so lucky’

The poet speaks to his spouse

Her physical system in turmoil

She flees the bedsitter and

Perhaps herself.

‘My mind is focused’

The poet says in defense to

Unjust domestic quarrels

Like: ‘What kind of writer are you?’

With an ironic undertone.

‘I’m a writer of Love’s wings’.

End of arguments.




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