Poem: Spanish Cherry
Wednesday, February 27, 2019
The time you get to read another poem! Brace yourself.
Hi lovers of my highly-read random poems! There's better news than finding out my poems are indeed awesome by statistics.
I've written quite a list of random poems and would be appreciative if you'd all keep yourselves glued to this space. Can't guarantee you'll be entertained, amused or even transformed by reading them but if it just makes you pause and ponder for a bit, that'll do!
Well then, here's a poem inspired by breezy nights here in tropical Malaysia. Actually, tonight is the breeziest of the lot compared to the previous nights. Since the concrete shelter gets quite heaty from absorbing the tropical day heat and humidity, I have started to just step out into the porch at night for a session of staring into spaces with my fluffy cats.
Talking about the cats that love me, have you been following me on Instagram yet? You are about to see more photos of them soon as I plan to populate the spaces with their photos!
As I was saying, breezy nights triggered this poem and thanks to the fragrant Spanish Cherry (Mimusops elengi), also called Bunga Tanjung in Malay, this came to be:
Poem title: Spanish Cherry
Blown blooms,
scattered on the ground,
in my palm,
I carry them around..
Spanish Cherry flowers
perfume the air
unraveled by a gust of wind
white and light
in contrast
with shadows of the night
a fragrant delight..
in my palm,
I bring them closer
to my cat's nose
avoiding his whiskers
as we share together
a breeze so
calmly fragrant
a gift from generous
mother nature..
--
Thank you for reading! As always, drop your thoughts down below - I relish reading them, you know I do!
Fun fact: My mom's Spanish Cherry is a new plant addition to the garden and we're blessed to have a sniff of its flowers even when we're quite a distant from it. Some people think of ghosts when they smell something wonderful in the air and there's no one around. I can't wrap myself around this thought as ghosts should at least smell rotten as logically, they might have just left decayed bodies. Why don't people think of ghosts when they smell something vomit-inducing? Why do Malaysian ghosts smell better than the average sweaty Malaysian with a thumping heart? These are some of the pressing questions that arise from my brain tonight. Thank you for reading this.
To end this entry, there's no quote to do that but a space where my love reach your hearts! Feel it.
shanaz@RS
|
12:35 AM
|
Labels:
poetry session
0 comments