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The Book of Na'Lon

or rather, Inane Ramblings of an Expatriot

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Ode to Monstera Deliciosa
With air roots grasping at the moisture and
with leaves a-twisting up and to the light
you dominate my living room and bring
to me self-centered unaware delight.
What do you think my pretty busy plant?
What makes you weave and grow inside your pot,
as if no rose or orchid could compete
with simple beauty of your shiny self?
Each new-green spike, each shapely windowed leaf
a stanza in your jungle-fevered dream
in which the rain drops fall on you direct
from tow'ring trees and birds and insects buzz.
So grow my love and hold that dream for me
until I bring the wat'ring can to thee!

('Cos other people was posting po'try).

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Oh, what fun! More, encore, bis!
We'll turn livejournal into a den of poets yet. (Or in my case poetasters, and isn't that a wonderful word?)

I haven't written any poetry in years; but seeing you all writing and citing might inspire me to write some more. I've read so little in recent years. Shortly before I started my present job (which is over four years ago now) I bought a collection of poems by Dylan Thomas, whose work I'd loved studying for A-level, and was disappointed, as so much of what had seemed new and complex and evocative of the unknown, no longer felt so appropriate to my experience of human beings after ten years away from school.

Fantastic - very entertaining. Keep that poetry coming everyone. Skordh

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