(Trying to mimick the late Ronald Blythe)
Homegrown,
No kindergarten,
I'm the child
Of a car-less home ...
Not for me
The chase for riches,
Not for me
The fleeting love.
My affections
Are not screaming
For fake diamonds
And the gold !
Science studies
And research work,
Ancient scripts,
Belle-lettre flow,
My decipherments
Of old texts -
These are the things
I'm too fond of !
But my desires,
Deep and sincere,
Nullify them,
Each and all ...
I long for a Saxon Nefertiti,
Or, better, -
The blonde Don Cossack girl !