Sunny Side Up

IT’S not always that when I am overwhelmed with emotion, I would resort to journal writing. Sometimes, I would rather write poems...and I have my own reasons for doing so.

For one, compared to journal writing, writing poems gives me the pleasure of pouring out my thoughts hidden behind figures of speech. The similes, the hyperboles, etc. become my willing ‘slaves’ and in the end, I sigh with relief that I have found an outlet for my innermost feeling.

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Below is one of those poems, written six years ago as part of my metamorphosis.

More than 20 summers ago
trusting in the prompting within her
in his chamber she was sweetly invited
happily, she glided

The sweet, innocent face he touched
countenance glistened, searching for her dreams
of culture bright she was enveloped
in ecstasy, she shivered, driven by hope

Only half of him she has seen
his house of pain she has never been shown
the burrowed claws put confusion in her dreams
the child-like heart, hasting feet searching, wandering

Silent pains slept behind the solid walls
the frozen heart bruised so deep
suppressed submissiveness about to snap
she cleaved to the raiment of hope

The wandering stranger invading her impiously
devastating her religiously
the bruised ego she traded
for resolution, of freedom lay hidden

The injured truth he tried to defend
she only laughed at his love and double pride
undaunted, she took a mortal leap
a new hope waiting for her grip

A bitter dose he has to taste
in moonless nights he sleeps
he pays too high a price
for many, secret lies

The weary heart has come to life
she laughed the tears away,
quaffed the freedom wine
the evening stars so brightly shines

Like summer bird flapping its renewed wings
free to roam and fly again
she looks back on the love that was
she smiles, safe in her sylvan house.