À l’heure du tout à l’image et du buzz sans suite, «l’express» souhaite faire découvrir la plume de poètes, de chanteurs, d’écrivains et de tous ceux qui jettent leur âme sur le papier, et qui mettent en mots des réflexions profondes.

Greeting with flamboyant and redness,

when bloom flowers,

buzz bees and dance butterflies on pollens,

a bonus do we think of,

of gifts and small pleasures.

Gone is December.

Of rain ripples are questionable January and teary February

as wiped is a roof leakage from a dumping sky,

taunting December fame in mops and pails of jealousy.

More of a cloudy chapter

as hop tadpoles in muddy laughters

and swept is a floor of celestial cries.

When scrubbed is the skin with dunes and spumes,

when relieved are backs from burdens

and relaxed are spines on hot massaging waves of heaven,

when heard is a ringing poesy in the ears,

when swished are sounds in the ocean of paradise,

when partygoers camp like beachcombers and feast like ravens,

when seashells adorn ankles, necks and wrists,

when ice cubes and lime rings fizz cocktails and mojitos,

when boozed are senses like a beaten up piñata

from tipsy splashes of waves,

when my drenching salty hairs knot with the sunkissed air,

I praise summer for being a sauna, I enjoy sea waves like jacuzzis

and I gulp inebriety from a sea lounge.

Ridding cold apprehensions and recharging fainted souls,

a thalassophile smiles of sunny decompression.

The whiskey season,

of heat are frivol ambiances and of fire are meetings.

Of whiskey spikes the sun in burning tantrums.

Of rage drinks the dawning redhead.

Of wine drool its whiskers at an appalled dusk.

Sips water the sober moon.

The peak season,

when tourists ant to bronze and darken

and moods are uplifted like a rising golden Phoenix,

trusting more of its wings than anything

amidst a summer’s challenging heat.

Sleep I not abed,

a flicker of hope, a coruscate and lukewarm joys are ahead.

Thanking the sun for shining with all its chrome,

thanking its warmth for splinting sadness,

sunglasses trend all fashions,

firing looks hunt with passion

and woven are spirits under a ball of compassion.

Sulks the folded umbrella in closed pleats of rainy months.

“Of fiestas and parties fires the Mauritian sun in summer!”

Bio

Jhaya Gujadhur

A Public Health Nurse of the Ministry of Health and Wellness, she here shares a poem from her first anthology “Poesy And Quotes”, launched in 2024.