Sunday, August 14, 2016

Mirrors

Mirrors

By May Kwek

One dark moon lit night
I walked into a room filled with moonlight
And saw a hundred mirrors each standing on stands
Each one deliberately designed by man’s hand

I walked to the first at the side of the place
Held it up and saw a sliver of my face
‘Disabled’, the words on the mirror said
But I didn’t see me so the image I’d trade

I walked to the next by a painting strange
For the faces there always changed
I looked into the mirror and I saw my face
But not my features, my character, just my race

I set the mirror for race down
And next to some prayer beads another one found
‘Religion’ it said, ‘in most the world’
And saw a perfect but unreal girl

I moved on to the drawers and beside a dress
Found a full length mirror straining under stress
I tried on the dress, did a little turn
And saw in the mirror, not a person, just a woman

As I got rid of the outfit something caught my eye
From the moonlight bouncing off a mirror shy
Dusty and broken lying on the floor
I wondered what it was meant for

It was small and simple, but firmly held in place
Just enough to reflect my face
On its edges was carved one word: ‘humanity’
And when I gazed into it I saw me

Copyright © 2016 by May Kwek

Sunday, August 7, 2016

A fickle twilight

A fickle twilight

By May Kwek

The deepening shadows
Are the herald of the night
The fading of the sky
Signals the twilight

Everywhere the sights darken
And shadows from their hiding emerge
Sparrows leave the darkening skies
And return home to their perch

The room grows ever darker
In the misty embrace of the night
Grey clouds from above
Cover the sun’s last waning lights

A low hum whispers
The steady beat of rain
Falling swiftly but quietly
Just outside the window pane

Yet the air feels quiet and still
Cool despite the absent wind
And the rain almost glides down
As though it’s always been

Then with a bright flash of lightning
Away disappears all calm
The sun bids a gleeful farewell
And the stormy twilight bids welcome

Copyright © 2016 by May Kwek

Friday, July 1, 2016

The world outside the window

The world outside the window

By May Kwek

In the room the world is dull
The walls and floor are plain
The lights are dimmed, the sound’s a constant hum
It always feels like it’s about to rain

Day in day out
Constant and unchanging
The sun rises and the sun sets
And you never hear a bird singing

Yet out of the corner of your eye
You can see the world outside
The bright sun on the green leaves
The brightening and waning of the day’s light

You see the leaves toss as they are blown
By a gale from the sea
You see butterflies and birds
Playing hide and seek amongst the trees

Storms arise and then subside
Behind that tinted glass
You see flowers bloom and then fade
And you find that you can trust

That though inside the world seems
To never ever change
But just outside the window
That world never stays the same

Copyright © 2016 by May Kwek

Saturday, May 21, 2016

The two roses

The two roses

By May Kwek

I held two roses in my hand
Both red and in full bloom
Both smelled as sweet as the morning
As soft as silk from heaven’s loom

Both spoke of hopes and dreams
Of wonders and possibilities
Yet when I held them up to the sun
Some differences I could see

For one had petals bent one way
And the other did not
One had green leaves a plenty
The other didn’t have a lot

The red for one seemed bolder
The other slightly pale
As a messenger of life and dreams
Perform better it seemed one will

Yet as I held both to my chest
Could I consider the other deficient?
For God made each rose bloom
And he made each one different

Copyright © 2016 by May Kwek

Saturday, May 14, 2016

Seasons of promise

Seasons of promise

By May Kwek

When spring touched the sky this year
I gave you a daisy fair
Small and slight though it was
It was tended with loving care

It swayed gaily in the spring breeze
Laughed in joy at the sun
With the fullness of youth and innocence
Of a life just begun

But spring blossomed into summer
And cares the daisy fades
So I gave you a lily white
As a gentle wish instead

It bloomed with the season
Shone like snow in the sun
As pure and as sweet from the beginning
Till its time was done

But I would not have you mourn dear heart
For the summer past, never forgotten
So I gave you an Iris bright
As summer burned into autumn

It was as violet as the heart of the sea
Quiet and sedate
Yet burning at the centre
With hope, wisdom and faith

It grew strong and true
Till the last flame of autumn fell
Then it was pressed into a book
To be kept safe and well

And as winter’s biting cold blew in
I placed the last pink carnation in your hand
As a promise honoured and true
I’ll never forget you, my friend

Copyright © 2016 by May Kwek

Sunday, January 24, 2016

The Deepening Twilight

The Deepening Twilight

By May Kwek

It’s the end of the day again
The light begins to fade
And the sky slowly looses
The glow the sun had made

Bright blues give way to inky black
The sun must bow to the stars
Which have no warm light
When they are so far

Shadows deepen all around
Everything becomes less defined
There is coolness and isolation
In the oncoming night I find

It is sad and yet not sad
Like mist compared to rain
For there is no finality in this darkness
Just the circle beginning again

But twilight is the time of day
Which saddles in between
Belonging to neither world
Or so it would seem

Perhaps it’s in a different place
Where things are constantly flowing
And time feels like reality
When the sky gives it meaning

So as I watch the deepening twilight
As the day melts into night
It is as though I have to mourn
The arrow of time’s flight

Copyright © 2016 by May Kwek

Reading Jane Austen

Reading Jane Austen

By May Kwek

I am reading Jane Austen
As I have said above
About riches, marriages
And alliances in the disguise of love

I have heard the characters speak of money
Being the almost literal measure of a man
One with a good income must eventually
Be captured with a wedding band

They talk of balls and fortunes
Of people and not much more
Because back then, it really seems
It was a much smaller world after all

Their idle lives of leisure
Singing, music and dance
With inheritance and all that propriety
Very little seems left to chance

Yet when I look at all their riches
The seemingly idle utopia they enjoy
They feel so miserable deep within
That I think they would do better for some toil

Copyright © 2016 by May Kwek