Samuel Lalmuankima

  The king departs; the queen follows close behind, Then, one by one, their parting bells did toll. Memories of the Mayflower, now but a subtle chain that binds; The old leaves fall, their legacy the hearth told. In royal street, they sing their songs; The buds dancing to their melody. Our cradle, where love belongs, In this harmony comes our rhapsody. As the mother trunk slowly gives way, Its quiet scaffoldings their descents make. In us, a part of them do stay; With them, a part of us did take. Thlatun 23, 2025 Eventide

  When winds and waves, in mimic strife, Clash and roar like war come to life, You calm this troubled-headed man, His war-torn soul protected from bloodshed. How I wish the cold winter nights would never end, Like stories by the hearth, with no parting bell tolled. But to slow down time, we could only pretend, For nights, like life and time, do not last forever. Three thousand useless miles now keep us apart, Yet this heart yearns for your presence, Like a little boy by his mother’s side, For in those two eyes, I found my home. Eventide Thlavul 06, 2025