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Talking over The Week end


Talking to my children over the week ends

has been my routine for years together

I talk to them without an end

not knowing what way to end altogether

but keeping awake all of us  for hours

as one lives in the  north in a time zone

whilst the other in the south with another time ever

with the variations of morning and evening  alone

the last one  living in the middle almost same time as mine

as both of us live around the tropics  in tone

we go on talking apart from the time with shine

away from the time, beyond the time in glue

with a giggle and a chuckle all through

with tears and a weep while coming to a close

brushing aside the tears that trickle down true

hanging up with the anticipation of resuming in the next week-end

our life has been going about with talking and seeing over the net

very much assuaging and comforting to a great extent  in time zone.a trend

though not as reckoning of the physical touch and proximity

that had been denied to us by living miles apart  in frequency.

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The Red Haunt


It is a red-letter day they hail

It is a red alert they caution.

It is a red light area they call.

It is a red zone they enforce.

It is scorching  red fire they mourn.

It is a red wound they shout.

It is a red stain they blurt.

It is a red blood bath they scream.

It is  red in most fronts we admit.

The colour red strikes a discordance.

It spreads a discomfort somewhere.

It signifies a flamboyance everywhere.