I have been away for almost 2 months and I have nothing to show for it. I am still as rusty as I left.

And now I have to go away again. I have to correct some mistakes; and pay for some. I  will go in naked. For not a paucity of pride is left in me.

But that’s my biz. See y’all in June or July.

On a happier note, her birthday came and passed and since I am rusty, it has taken me this long to forge her a verse.

My poetic dexterity

is like a flame in the wind;

a gentle,black and steady wind.

Dangling from a tenuous string,

it screams for the Muse’s hand.

But suffice,it will, today,

to forge you, fair Maiden, a verse.

Today, my small heart dances

like a lucky worker bee

spoilt for choice among roses;

its infectious smile and joy

that of an April gentleman.

And my demure soul lies back

in a Pharoah’s satisfaction.

True, it may be bitter-sweet:

The heart, thus far good as Paul,

making impossible demands;

But don’t roses come with thorns?

So, give not a single thought

to those coronary whims,

and bask in today’s glory.

As Day’s flower blooms anew,

reach out and clasp this score year.

Smile like a Hollywood star

soaked with a million flashes;

be devoured by happiness

and savour the gift of life.

This, my dear Maiden, is your day.