Friday, 27 June 2014

The 5 women.

The first one,
Whom I grew up admiring,
In the tumbrels of passion,
In the parlance of love,
With all my whims alike,
She guarded me like a protector,
From the effluvium of vice,
She carried me on her shoulders,
Carved an Elysium I came to price.

The second one,
Taught me a purpose,
Ensconced in me the means,
From the cradles of love,
Took me to the muddle of scrutiny,
She would delineate the rules of life,
For I was just an instrument of prattle,
She laid down the caveats to follow,
And I stood ready for the battle.

The third one,
The exuberant enchantress,
The inerrant belle,
With all her sumptuous redolence,
With all her serene vivacity,
She exhorted me to dream,
For I just did dawdle,
In front of her emboldening charisma,
I could only twaddle.

The fourth one,
Laid beneath her visage,
Laid beneath her skin,
Lies the hardihood of my life,
Lies my supreme penchant,
Through the gallows of the execrable,
She comes and paints my life beige,
She is the might and the force,
Who buoys me to take the stage.

The fifth one,
With her own crumpled hands,
Looks frail and pallid,
No longer the nymph of her prime,
But still a portrait of determination,
Within the white picket fence,
She earnestly awaits her bail,
Her occasional smile is a requiem to life,
One that serves my soul with regale.

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