Priscilla. (Tanka)

Ripped to bits, I was,

then, there came this soaring sylph,

with so much ardor,

who gathered my frail pieces,

and made a mosaic of warmth.

Cheemnonso™

Turbulence

Through the storm, we sailed;

with you, the crafty captain,

and my heart, your oar.

Cheemnonso™

Susurrant sage sounds,

sleekly slays savoured savages,

stirring startling stares.

Cheemnonso

Why does a man grin when

He’s half way up in his success story,

Yet, sobs when he’s half way down??

Guess one can be Happy and Sad at the same time.

Cheemnonso…