Valentine

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I watch you grow with pride  
You’re sure and strong in stride

The certainty that you matter

Must never ever shatter

The darts when they come

From outside yes some

But watch out for those

That will come from close

A haven that heals

Wounds and bad deals

May become your inferno

Its ringmaster your beau

His family will idolize

Their son, a grand prize

You may be dismissed

Have you reminisced?

Put down they may

In many a way

Food and his care

They will have you dare

Your music is shoddy

Do not neglect your body

Another’s wife a master cook

No cobweb may you brook

When you take the wheel

Does he guide and squeal

Who has the remote?

Is he mocking your taste?

There’s an hour I fear

Pray hark my dear

As much as the physical

Rape can be mental

You are bright and gay

And you hold sway

Over life, a time

Of dozen, a dime

No hitting no names?!

Look out for other games

And have a plan

If he is not half the man 

Valentine does not pose

With diamonds and rose

He is one who will cherish

Not letting you perish

The Execution

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Like a plump seed, rich with promise

Of growth and flush branching

Springs the idea of a friendship

That will endure life and ravaging

There is hope shy, timorously tender

A twenty four carat witnessing?!

Of you that is more than their reflection

In that moment begins the dying

One day you do not water the bond

Then ease out on the weeding

A veto on mulch is bound to bring

Whispering wheeze from sapling

Rooted in that yawning pain

Bothered at the blighting

Combating blast and howl and canker

The cusp comes into sighting

And yet it weathers the life force hardy

Through night and day yet smiling

For ties do not make us

We execute the tying!

Feminist prototype

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It makes me proud to see your heart

Beat for women, all torn apart

You sense the paradox of their lives

There is anger at the social lies

An edgy status, a secondary citizen

Despite their elitist education

Prickly, constant and inbuilt

This shattering sense of eternal guilt

That adjustment, compromise and appeasement

Will be her grandest statement

And should she dare to veer any

There better be an engine many

While you perceive this with appal

Aflame at the unfairness of it all

You forget to extend that charity

To the shuffling piece of maternity

Her tear bounces off your arrogance

Of the cord there’s a certain severance

As though a boning with the Bowie

Spare her this dear God, she is my baby

Defunct and desolate she might seem

Bright but bitter in basic theme

The one you ladle wisdom to

Was once as fiery and free as you!

Note:All pics of the whiz baker and Asawari's Serb home-stay Mom Nada, taken by Aqseer.