Songburst

A trip to mountain vale
     my heart is lost
buried in
     the weather-beaten path
seeped in
     the cracks of mud huts
          like sun-baked dung

People of mountain vale
... the boy of capital city
... the monkey of a man
the fun of that dance
     the holding of hands

The chat over a wooden table
     in sizzling heat
the jump in the air
     red ribbon in hand
the constant chatter
     that breaks into songs
verses in the diary
     tell where the heart belongs

I fear not gazing
     into the light brown depths
     eyes of
          people of mountain vale
a pen and a page
     a few words that connect
so far away
     so close at heart
wait and wait
     when will we next relate?

I was casually screening the comments on my blog and found an old post by Namby Pamby who used to be my ardent reader - one on contemporary poetry that is unstructured freeflow of words and emotions. As I've been quite emotional of late, I've been inspired to pen the above. Again, another amateur work by an overly 诗情画意individual ... hehe ...

Well, NP would stimulate my thoughts with websites like this http://readerseye.blogspot.com/; we would discuss philosophies fervently, sometimes over MSN when I was freelancing a long time ago. I kind of miss this intellectual warfare :) I wonder if he's still keeping tabs on my posts?