Terry At The Master’s Feet

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I

Master at your humble feet I pray

Though your mien hold me at bay

From this arm’s length I beg to give

Your soul a lift from the sinking grief

Like an air-bag above the flailing tide

That bops merrily in a graceful glide

To the hymns set your feet to a waltz

And ease the troubles that plague your heart

II

The whistling sound of “Christmas”

On your lips sound like a dull farce

That has lost the cheer to make it

Anything more than a forlorn chirp from a pit

The bird on the frosty hill that dazzled

Now lay on the cold earth, frazzled

Wings that bestrode the sky a year ago

Flap helplessly like a weary ego

IIII

I heard your sweet voice resonate from afar?

In that poem you wrote me last year

By the window overlooking the frosty hill

At a time when Christmas gave me no thrill

You opened my puppy eyes to the trifle nothings

Words that illumined that it was no easy pickings

That Time brought us Christmas once again

Through the thorny patches and the booby plain

IV

You said we do not well to dwell on the pain

If the year make that much of a strain

That our lives veer off the expected trail

Lest we grovel under the distressful hail

And forget to get back on the recovery road

That the champions have at one time trod

There by the wayside Master, a carriage roams

Waiting with gongs, trumpets and brass drums

V

Your eyes along with the stars up there

Should have made the night so clear

If it weren’t so scathingly cold to the quick

To pierce through my puppy heart like a prick

Who would tell me of that celestial compass?

That commands with the steely confidence of brass

Will I ever get to sit upon your strong shoulders?

That I may reclaim my place on the giant boulders

VI

Please let not your hand desist from the cuddle

Nor your shoulders cold to your loving poodle

The rudder I seek in the depth of your misty eyes

Should serve to break upon the waves of heavy sighs

As with the first glow of spring upon the frozen lake

I beseech God to take off the caste of thy dourly face

And melt the frigid crust upon your heart

To the jolly drift of the festive spirit at last

VII

From the wine that makes merry, drink

The light giddy flavor that Christmas brings

The premium spirit that refreshes so well

And with joy makes the heart so swell

That the oaks know to shed their weights

Before the Monsoon current in their paths abate

A clean break from all that burdens

As life dishes out from a fresh pudding

VIII

Crush the sourly mood with the edge of a smile

Let the red blush spread like a throbbing Nile

Upon all that come along, a little more shed

The pure spirit of love that the season spread

As always green- the pea -and the dove white

Let not the parasitic bug make a blight

Of the Christmases of yesteryears

Glittering handsomely like the corn’s ear

02:05hrs  25/12/12

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