Time Poor

If seconds were gifted to you as money,
I wonder how much change you’d keep - 
by the end of each indulgent day's splurge - 
as you lay yourself down to sleep?

this gift will not save, these funds 
must daily be spent,
the wise man (in this realm of wealth) 
holds not back investing a single cent.

so, as dawn breaks and you wake afresh, 
be sure your path of choice is clear,
the returns you seek can be cashed in 
only whilst you are here.



Our Time

rings (2)
The Sunhouse, Galle. January 3rd, 2020.

Our Time

In jasmine-drenched heat
She tilts to one side
Ever so slightly and catches me
Flush on the cheek
With a knowing smile.

Our toes inches apart
Fingers clasping strange fabrics,
And eighty pairs of eyes
Twinkle
In the fanned breeze.

Afterwards, as newlyweds
We walk together along the drive
Shrouded by a setting crimson orb
As tuk-tuk plumes
Spiral the ocean.

A bygone revelry in sepia form
These months now past,
These days before us stretched out
As lazy afternoon birdsong –
Our new paradigm unfolding.