Willie wagtail wakes the morning
With his song outside my room
He tells me that the day is dawning
And sings away all shades of gloom.
Lovely bird, back black and shiny
With his belly creamy white
He sits there on a roof so finely
Giving my Soul sweet delight
‘Morning’s here’ his song is singing
Every note so loud and clear
As his song to me is bringing
A feeling oh, so sweet and dear.
26 August 2013 @ 0657hrs.
Meeting with a Tiger snake
The sky above is sheer perfection
The deepest shade of blue
The big gold sun, it shines on down
And lights on drops of dew
To make them shine like pretty gems
Upon the soft green leaves
Of trees reflected in the lake
Such a poem this morning weaves.
A tiger snake comes swimming by
He swims amidst some gulls
In his special wiggly way
It’s a blessing to my soul
To see these creatures swim together
No danger written there
He’s at peace with all that live
It seems he has no care.
He swims up to the leafy shore
Then hides behind a tree
He knows I’m there yet, doesn’t care
He has no fear of me
But when I try to get up closer
The snake, he flares his head
So I must heed this danger sign
Or soon I could be dead.
Then snake, he moves off through the bush
And goes upon his way
He’ll find some other place to lie
On this lovely summer’s day
The day is coming soon enough
[The autumn is quite near]
When this snake will sleep in peace
Until the spring is here.
4 March 2014 @ 1145hrs
Spring is coming
Spring is coming
I can feel it in my blood
The days, it seems are warming up
And feelings like a flood
Come gushing through me like a river
Oh Lord, it’s almost spring
Oh what love is in my heart
What joy to me this brings
Hallelujah, it is coming
The birds are getting frisky
The canaries sing a lovely song
And the dog he runs so briskly
All around the garden
Seems he knows that spring is here
The fish are chasing all around
And the sky is blue and clear
No one understands it
This thing spring does to me
No one could ever feel it
So wonderful it be
But when I know the spring is here
It makes me feel so sweet
Twenty eight days away from now
Then the spring time we will greet.
2 August 2013 @ 1447hrs.
I do not know?
Unknown to those with no curiosity
Buds, that dream of one day blooming
Being, more than they are
Touched by those who love
Protected by those who wish to love
Wishing to be more than they are
Buds, not truly knowing if they are ready for the world
Hoping they are strong enough
Wishing to be the best
You, Me, Us, Everyone
Hither I stand, at crossroads,
And then I gaze, at the yonder end-
The vague horizon from where I began;
And all that I may ever deem
Is that- my days
Have been a waken dream.
Hither I stand, at the edge of my dream;
Then I wonder, at the depth of my trance-
An adventurous journey through the wondrous woods;
An idyllic stroll through the vicissitudinous meadow;
And from the final station as I depart,
All that I can ever say, is that
Perpetuation has been a rouge
Of fleeting phases of my life.
St. Stephen’s College.
Effulgent sun proffers love
Above the undergrowth…of
Thorns and weeds
The moon unravels wonders
I looked out side to find a nice day in the month of May
And was walking in the evening just to say
I almost cried and my hands got cold
And winter month got so bold
It was so frustrating and out of the norm
And each person in their heart had a storm
It's the month of May what the! happen to spring
And my headache began to ring
Most people on the first day of May was so happy
And now they look out on the second day sappy
I just want everyone to know it is May 2, 2013
And nothing should be in between
So pullout your snow shovels in dismay
And things you should know will be okay
So good morning to all and to all a good morning
And I just want you to be out their in a warning
The snow is at six inches and beyond
And you will not see green grass in dawn
I help myself by writing this poem
And I will be staying at home
Crazy the weather became bad in May and nasty
I brought out some of my snack and that was tasty
I just looked outside while I was eating
As the snow kept on beating
Why can't spring
last as a deep feeling,
and remain joyful and eternal?
What makes this season so vital and wonderful...
adorning our earth with flowers so delightful?
Who is so dubious to disclaim it?
True faith admits no doubt...
will the heart?
My spring was too brief,
only desire outlived it...
floating as a leaf:
to taste death on barren ground:
such is the fate of all leaves!
Perhaps nostalgia is deeper than regret,
making me yearn with useless tears
and in doing so sorrow deepens...
without realizing I have no control over it.
Return spring with a new child in me,
making me run towards the sunflowers' filelds
increasing my chances to find serenity...
return spring, but don't be short and cheerless.
Years age the body, not the spirit...
as seasons remind us how fragile we are:
living one life and returning dust as before...
without voice, flesh, blood and thought.
Light alters the ambiance
of all that is seen;
the accelerating clouds escape
while a distant trumpet,
embodying the allegro beat,
arranges beautiful arias
that ascend like orchards' pink petals
unaware of us
watching as they enter
the radiant atmosphere...
look up, those fading stars adore them!
Against the igneous rocks algae cling,
empty boats err
without any stirring;
anguish for one heart awaiting night...
opening her eyes,
she allows fears
and tears ignoring the ardent moonlight:
again lonely, allured by auroral gleams!
Silky white, pink-tinted petals pushed by dreaded zephyr
They brush against cheeks; comfort sensually skinned
Delicate, freshly bloomed, fall like widows who have wept
I should too if not for ignorance willfully kept