She's like a spilled rivulet of light
From an incandescent bulb
That keeps casting its flickering shine
Even amid lurid flashes of electricity around
That blinds one's desires and dreams
To stir and take a flight.
Even when the dark winds
Slash and slay long evenings domestic warmth
Into reluctant half hearted nods
Her opal glances from a corner
Knock away the will
To turn and switch off
The pending streams of vigour.













