Four English Shorts

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with pretty succubus behind a shoulder
witnessing dance of ever-yellow leaf
taste dainty of this changing season, it is older
than any joy and any given grief


***

For me the point of a major interest
Is
Whom should I bless?
The Time, the Lady? Tenderness
Beneath?
Or luck which seems
I occupied at terms of lease?
Not at my ease
To judge the moment I would not forget
If I'm allowed.
When bedside lamp was neatly bent
For it not to disturb beloved
be-lovers,
Not to attract, with numb unspoken vowels,
Surprised and ugly-looking looks
Of crooks
Who steal and mar the bliss.
Whom should I bless for numerous retreats
And happy-ending?
For all-forgiveness
Of that farewell kiss?
The Time, the Lady,
And that tenderness beneath.


***

Beyond logical ORs and ANDs
The scene of brutal soldiers
Bullying audience
Into mess.


***

For each town or city I choose to dwell
in, I know I am observed quite well
And familiar eye is following me
As all doings of mine are letters to thee.