Not Poetry. Quatrain Verse in English & Swedish. Dagsverser. On the Mundane & the Arcane.
Mina känslor oj så ömtåliga
likt mogna persikor lättstötta
faller så snabbt i sken otåliga
när av minsta hinder bemötta
Måste hålla jagkänslan välfödd
för all kritik gör mej upprörd
Jag kan väl kanske verka förströdd
när endast finkänsligt lyhörd
Min rättmätiga förstås självkänsla
bör aldrig avtrubbas av medkänsla
The bewildered geezer
slowing on uptake
finds much a brain-teaser
in outlook opaque
Now bumbling, befuddled
way less done than watched
by no smartphone cuddled
His past badly botched:
Got to live long to gain insight
given chance to make things right?
Or just fake alibis airtight
his slim obit to bedight?
Gets close now to Eternity’s Trip
so little time left to get a grip!
Came across these lines from a late-Elizabethan era madrigal ‘Now is the Month of Maying’:
“The Spring clad all in gladness
doth laugh at Winter’s sadness”
which inspired the following verse – though pretending that ‘Madrigal’ is the last name of a woman called Elizabeth, who is rather the one feeling gladness & sadness:
While flawless crisp days did excite
on frozen fields bucolic
since then worn thin Winter’s delight
in melting snow to frolic
Patient, fickle & demure
thus arrives next season
to brim with its own allure
clouded from all reason
Dear Elizabeth Madrigal
clearly the most innate thing
for such a thoughtful lovely gal
to join in laughter with Spring!