The flower bed

Council workmen complaining

while the gardener glowers;

perfumed dreams despite raining

giving peace without powers;

even kings might like feigning

tramps sleeping on flowers.

SAO

What was the highlight of the trip?

What was it most impressed me?

Was it the anaconda's grip

or the deserts calm and stress free?

Was it the Amazonas river,

Andean mountain scenery,

all those humming birds a-quiver,

Ecuador's jungle greenery?

Was it massive Inca stonecraft,

river dolphin or manatee

or just the shiver when you laughed

but lately shied away from me?

Was it Brazilian sunny beaches,

Rio's carnival parades?

No, it was you my heart beseeches;

your memory never fades.

What but . .

What bubbles and fizzes more than prime champagne

and effervesces sunshine out of rain ?

What hops and skips beyond olympic games

and soars above the bar of petty blames ?

What laughs at nothing from the joy within

and dares your patience with a cheeky grin ?

What turns your January into June

and yet collapses like a burst balloon

when angry words must chide then very soon

can re-inflate itself just like before

and dance in triumph on the kitchen floor ?

What lies angelic in its night-time rest

and makes your quiet evenings doubly blessed ?

What else but happiness of children fires your days

into a glow that warms so many ways ?