He planted a wisteria vine
On her window pane
For he could see
Her every morning
Through the floral beauty
Of the wisteria frame
Where she looked as if
She had been a portrait
Of his Painting..

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Pain do not come when you lost something precious...
It comes when you don't understand the reason of your lose...

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I am a wisteria
lush, bountiful and redolent
like the guffaw of summer sun
cracking egg shell jokes
on cobblestones skillets of noon
under belligerent May skies.

I blossom
in purple, lilac, lavender
like blooming epistles of a dusk
long engulfed by
a voracious night echoing
in cicadas strains
and fireflies' subtle refulgence.

I flower
on straggling vines,
an epitome of longevity,
sensuous as the summer breeze
and Neruda's love poetry,
I smile under scorching gaze
of scalding May sun,
~enduring like true love.

but
I am like a woman
filled with passion and affection
yet able to chase away
demons,
with my grit and
turning venomous in
self defence...

-

Steps to success start with faith
Climbing there stands on a belief
Behold the Wisteria, the house of power and strength.

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