http://www.helenbarlev.com/

(copyright V Srinath, India)

Link: http://www.artmajeur.com/en/artist/srinath

THE  OBJECT

It has been there some time

When I entered the room

It was already there

It seems to be of two colours

 But  then  in certain lights

It has to be three or four

Or even more

But then it appears

Almost colourless

I wouldn’t swear to it

Being coloured at all

It’s spherical in shape

I’m sure of that

Not so sure really

Truth be known

From another angle

It could be round

Or flat or multi shaped

Starshaped with sharp corners

Now I’m getting fanciful

It is after all

A very simple object

Or so I think

Until I approach it

And it is blinking

On and off, on and off

I think my eyesight

Must be faulty

Closer

It emits no light

Rather a dull thing

In fact

And when I pick it up

A bit of a deadweight

Not light and feathery

As I had supposed

A bit of a disappointment

Really

I expected more

From the object

When I first saw it

The object in the middle of the room

Or was it to one side

I don’t quite remember

It’s playing on my mind

My mind, my mind

If it was ever there

This object.

Aeronwy Thomas

AERONWY   THOMAS

(copyright Dorit Ruff)

Link: http://www.doritruff.co.il/

The poem “Dreams” can be read in the original language here:

http://www.doritruff.co.il/oil3.asp?ProjectID=52 

Link: http://www.donnamcgee.ie/

AUTUMN

The rays of sun
Touch
Brightly coloured leaves
The wind picks up
Leaves dance wildly in the wind
Tired they settle
A carpet of Arabian richness
To rustle underfoot

AERONWY THOMAS

Link: http://www.artjacky.com/gallery/Gallery/HomePage

MONASTERY IN SHASTA

As you say, Ann,
Buddhas were my thing
Long ago
in flower power days
we strewed petals
to honour him
sat in a lotus-like squat
and emptied our minds.
No mantras, no noise,
no distraction
only Buddha
on his plinth and us
with our backs to him
our bottoms raised
on kapok cushions,
contemplating the wall.
Buddha took no offence
and finally broke
the shackles
in my mind
eased my aching joints
and made me –
just by his wooden–
tranquillity -
and would break free
from all that grief.

AERONWY THOMAS

STREETLAMP

We look to the past
When the light shone brighter
When days were sun filled
And after dark
We loitered hand in hand
Under its yellow beam
Your summer dress picked out
Your face lit
In mysterious tones
As we cuddled together
Afire
Under the street lamp.

We struggle to remember
Its warm glow
Its elegant form
While the sharp lights
Where we take
Our evening stroll
These winter nights
Are so bright
Fail to flatter
Your hard-won lines
Your worried frown
Oh for the street lamp
When life was just begun
And I kissed you, my love,
Under its subtle rays

AERONWY THOMAS