Anachronism

That day I saw Venus

Striding along me on a beach

Looking below each sand grain

Overturning dead oyster shells

In pursuit of a woman's heart

That will willingly sustain

Curing pains of erosive love

Poor Goddess failed to find

One 'single' heart

In this world of pseudo-love!

I met Cupid the other day

Little devil-in-disguise

Searching between sheets

Looking for his now-broken arrow

That once struck a young man’s heart

Warm but utterly narrow

It then dawned upon the mother-son duo

It's not possible to alter this status quo

So I'll now write down their epitaph

Hope all of you had a good laugh

The Shift Of The Magi...

A purple evening rolls in through a half-open window..

Bringing with it tired flakes of English snow

Quite unwelcomed by the yellow colour on the wooden pallet

And the painted lady in her frozen ballet

Maria wishes for a studio in London, if not Paris...

Paul dreams of winning a chess Grand Slam, if not tennis.

And night enters their one-room flat quite unceremoniously

To mingle with their shadowy dreams- private, absurd, silly

Do you see him ironing his patchy linen shirt?

It's for tomorrow's work in the local liquor shop

And her stitching on her brown corduroy skirt

It's the one she has got from the street by the bus stop

The Church bells make her shiver in her chair

She recalls her blasphemy in the time for prayer

At fourteen she traded the Bible for oil paints

Chose canvas over parables, scriptures and saints

They shake him too from his pleasant reverie

And brings back the flashes of a forgotten memory

How he won his first game of chess at eleven

Bunking a Sunday-morning service, infuriating Heaven