A Winter Message

A flake of snow in flurry thro’ the air
Had landed as a kiss upon my cheek:
A secret message, just for me to share;
To take to heart but never dare to speak
About or presuppose to other eyes
Your open feelings – distant though they are.
And so, upon your lips, my OWN surprise:
A flake of snow returned from me afar.

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010

A Winter Pond

Sting-chill of winter matt –
Her frozen hand caressed us all;

And calming bleach of silence
Pressed upon the rustic scape
To leave an ashen underbelly –
Once raging summer chroma.

Even Winter’s gelid lungs laboured
Under heavy drag of flakes –
Their pilgrimage: to stay a deadened floor
In crunch-white peace.

And round about, the weight of time
– Collapsing under Winter’s drag –
Transmutes to grey: it’s three o’clock –
No lights pricking black out here! –
Even the night globe,
The Great Reflector – stonewalled;
Camouflaged by lead-laden cloud
Lolling in the claustrophobic noon.

At ground, a farm pond –
Seized in a dark hiatus –
Offered up repentance –
Why, it dared to harbour life!

I forgave it in my desperate gaze
Upon the crazy-paving surface,
That sealed in the black-chill temperature,
Where at bottom, something nithered
Still survived.

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010

Winter's sun

There is something about the winter's sun,
That aspires hope after struggle
The wait for tomorrow after
long cold shivering nights;
is the optimism attached
to the winter's sun.

There is something about the winter's sun.
The Florescence of the beaming rays
the calmness of the flowing sunshine:
convinces me about the warmth,
of the winter's sun

There is something about the winter's sun.
The tender hugging of the sunbeams
on the exposed numb body:
confirms about the comfort provided
by the winter's sun

There is something about the winter's sun.
Those for whom is the winter's suffering
the warmth of the sun is also for them.
Relieving them that, a part of the
sunshine belongs to them
Of the winter's sun.

azmat naushad asif