Wild, zealous inamorata


He found her quite by chance

While journeying

Along a prosaic path

Not of his choosing


As is the way

For those adrift

They dawdle

He dawdled

No need to hurry

In the blackness akin

To pre-birth

No journey’s end

Yet in sight

No backward glance

From whence he came


Chanced upon her en route

Sat at the roadside

She was counting stars

Giving her favourites

Special names

For no clear-cut reason

Other than it took her fancy

To count and name them thus


Even though it was

A thankless task

Someone had to do it

That is what she believed



It was then he realized

There was after all

A resting place

Before the end of time


And now

Once more

He needs to

Indulge himself

Like before


She laughs

Finds it funny

And says

‘Why not’


She was

Still is

Deliciously cuckoo



  1. The funny thing with your poems and stories is I’m never sure how things are gonna end up for the male character (they seem to have a somewhat high ‘painfully-rejected’ rate (or perhaps that’s just me projecting)…anyway, I read this poem twice, first to see if the ending was happy, the second time to absorb it. Really loved the way two people can find one another in something that’s rather nonsensical…I don’t know who I will end up with, if anyone, but I do hope he will be cuckoo;)

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