For all those lazy people out there :-), I am pasting the poems below:
Othello’s Path
Butterflies dropped dead from branches
Butterflies dropped dead from branches
Dewdrops of nights that stifled dawns
Lay on your path
Or were they tiny handkerchiefs
Or were they tiny handkerchiefs
Outlining a long sorrowful track?
White of course
Black with guile
Wordsmiths called
Wordsmiths called
It green, envy
But when the foliage died
No one was left to pry
So, don’t walk that path dear Othello
So, don’t walk that path dear Othello
Don’t wipe your eyes with
Those thunderstruck fingers, they’ll teach
You rage and us a loss forever to linger.
**
BouquetsIn very hot weather
Flowers wilt like bouquets
As do kneeling gardeners
But no one hears them.
It is fashionable for us to
It is fashionable for us to
Take bouquets - not words -
To happy or sad rituals where
No one deciphers the flowers.
We can shade the buds
We can shade the buds
But that may deter buzzing bees
Heavy with the delusion of summer
And the ensuing calm.
