Wednesday, September 26, 2012
To walk a mile isn't as easy as it seems!
A man walked a crooked line
thinking it be a straight one,
Each time he took a step
the line just didn't fit in with his footstep.
Any which way he tried
the line just kept on looking straight
from his view point..
So he wondered to himself
why it seemed so clear a path in sight
but when threaded even with care
it did not fit to his
print of footsteps..
There's a message here to be
my friends who trust me heart and soul,
The eye sometimes deceives
and its only when chanced upon and experienced
do we find potholes and broken
routes along the way stitched and re-constructed
to make the journey onward
seem a breeze!
Monday, September 24, 2012
I picked a theme and had it
linger in my mind
It had a backdrop and little
trimmings with lots of lace.
The colors blended with white and blue
and made it a pastel colored hue.
I had a theme that lingered
in my mind for days.
I had an image conjured with you
and placed upon a cake
A man and a woman
Garcon et belle
The grandeur lining
to a wedding that lasts a lifetime's living
I had an image
once in my mind
of me and you..
Monday, September 17, 2012
She stood apart from the others
Carving a niche of her own
The madding crowd abustle
straining a day to a moan.
She steps the sidewalks in silence
The language of thoughts in her clone
and singles out the shadows
beneath the sky reddened glow.
The molten heat of an after noon
The thoughts of a lady in her clone
Beneath the sky reddened glowing
A choice sought by one who lived
on her own.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Have you ever heard of the song
something about Simon being Simple
and what he said???
A batch of ageless sparrows
scattered with wings spread out
Then came a sliver of lightning
and caught one
in its wing..
Fly little sparrow where the wings are
Fly with your bodies covered with
a glimpse of a breeze.
Fly where the naked clouds wait to rain
you with endless showers
and breaths of fresh air..
The broken winged one
landed way below and struggled
to capture its glory once more..
A little girl it found
running to set it free
A saved sparrow now in
hands that are warm and carefree...
Fly little sparrow where the world
spins you free
Every angle you take now
depends on the speed of your dream..
The healed little sparrow
now cured of its hurt
is set free by the little girl
and now it roams free...
It went far into the wings of the clouds
but something stayed missing
right down in its heart..
Where did that little girl
that set me free
Come from and be
at the right place you see..
I shall miss her and her beauty
I shall always see
When I fly away like
a new babe with wings...
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Ever written in italics and wondered if
its depth of the message conveyed is understood?
Or would a message be unraveled
by the penmaster with an ink of blue,
She seats herself upright
Writing words that sentenced right
and which stretched its message in ink of red
creating a dangerous liaison with
the color black,
a sordid declaration of power.
The attestment states that :-
The maker of the pen would not be
satisfied until its writings unfold in a
One that writes with the stretch
of its line in a smooth engrave.
and the master of the writ
whose thoughts are strewn
within a serious spectre
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Lately, the hours seem to stretch days into months
like trailing an asteroid that threatens
to crash into the crib of a moving planet
watched by the sun.
Lately, the tremble of a threatening cloud
filled with grim and thunderous claps
of sound is heard from a distant.
Lately, the smile of an infant is the only one
that seems eager and genuine
like a morning dew at the brisk of dawn.
Where have all the pure sounds of life
or a leisurely stroll at dawn
And most of all
Where have all the good gone undone?
Sunday, September 2, 2012
Of a doubtless repertoire
There's a little doubt in her mind
of many of the doubtless dreams that comes with time
burning little hearts that aches for love..
There is a story that seems to transcend time
of wishes and pasts brought to mind
touching little memories
bringing back the old good times..
Where were the seams threaded with time
she seems to understand less each day that pass
creating a harbored doubt to her mind.
Was she the one wedded some distant time
to someone from a different age that can't be defined?
Were the hours of morning that once stood the test of time
awaken the showers of a rain
that falls each time
as she dreams
of a lullaby.
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