You came and linger into my life so early
Through recitation, you dwelled upon me
You played a big role in my stage of growing up
When I learned many poems to gesture
Innocently, I was joyfully seated on your lap.
Appreciation to your splendor promptly started
At young age, rhymes easily retained in my head
If sometimes I needed to share some ideas at school
And reflections on bible verses at churches
Mostly were expressed in rhymes… so fun, so cool.
At teen age years, when I’d an infatuation or crush
My scribbled short rhyme poem was sent in a rush
One of those boys sent me back his reply
My joy was flailing high for it was love letter in rhyme
After a year or two, I found out, a song of Air Supply.
Ever since I was in the field of my profession
You’ve been a great help as I impart skills, my vocation
I’ve compositions for my children’s choral recitation
Written in English and in our own language
For our class, campus programs and competitions.
My dearest poetry, you’re my best buddy
In all seasons, you’re here for me
To light my path, giving powers or energy
My forever gratitude for your company
You’re my precious gift from our God, Almighty.
Johann Sebastian Bach,
the corridor of cadenced choral he did proudly walk.
Baroque musician, virtuoso organist, he created conglomerate of style;
the harmony of intertwined melodies made him a composer versatile.
It has been said you are all just bricks in the wall -
confined and coffined in concrete, your moments
magnified in mortar, souls stone-stippled.
But listen: you are as flowers, individuals efflorescing -
shy eyes of violets, fragile forget-me-nots
unforgettable in pews of blues, sunshine celandines
beaming from sunless corners, strident daffodil trumpets
with everything to tell. Some will grow apart -
wayside wanderers, wayward and cast out.
Some forever up against the world-wall.
You unfold as petals, to sing in tongues of the sun,
in golden tonals, corolla contraltos, a floral choral,
soprano sepals, hibiscus hymns to him and her.
Flowering through stone, blossoming through gloom,
though shadow-dusted with dusk's lilac bloom.
Baptised in the dew of the new which forges
a world anew, transformed by the higher light
which highlights your days, gilded pollen-gold.
Days lengthen as rays warm walls, edges and corners
sun-softening, souls becoming sun-stippled.
Listen: these are the petalled messages to you.
Down in a little stable on what seemed an average morn,
Amid the sheep and cattle there, a little Lamb was born.
Destined to be a Savior to a world in frightful need.
Now laid within a manger where the livestock all would feed.
Behold the Lamb of God, come now to save us all from sin.
The One to fight the battle and from death our souls will win.
Behold the little Child who will one day carry a cross.
The Shepherd we’ve been waiting for to save all who are lost.
The shepherds from the fields would come to bow before the Lamb,
Astounded to be witnessing their God come as a Man.
But they had heard the angels singing out in choral praise
To a Child in a manger. Truly wondrous are God’s ways!
A star so brightly shining several wisemen use as guide.
A long time will they journey just to kneel down at His side.
And bringing kingly gifts of frankincense and myrrh and gold
They give them to the little Lamb foretold by seers of old.
Now, look into your hearts whom He saved from death and sin.
And contemplate your living, do you try to follow Him?
Then take some time to think about this humble little Lamb
Who is the Lord of Glory now come down to us as Man.
Sepulchered inside a vaulted night so deep
the crow soars alone inside that ebon sky of yours
Center arched in space, heaven is filled with stars
an so your secret lies across orange-yellow meteors.
Encased inside a cold embrace,
your imminent last sigh ! .
Irreversible as the hour, this cancer has taken a leap
and the butterflies of summer, have all but gone away
Choral hymns of worship, " Amazing Grace," Foresight !
how I long to keep you here, at least for one more day.
Within the cold embrace of death,
your inevitable, goodbye !
Play only love songs
For tonight’s starshine hours,
with its winking
Constellations all
Hailed
And wished upon
To make this night completely
Ours ~
and keep love’s longing
Lasting
Here within us
Near
enough to
Touch
Smiles
While our wooing words turn into
gifts of kisses
Re-living our first embraces
with hearts pulsing
Music
Now
Freely composing itself
for our time yet to come
Living in a choral harmony
with love’s true verses
Coursing rivers
Amidst the patient rythms of
Lasting
Eternity…
A stretched gloaming tethers creation in a
daystar's wake ... askew parts The Old Guitarist
ebbing lambent stars strung to a yarn of spring ...
'Tis the volley of calendrical crasis
poised to a youthful Einstein that subtracts from
the sum and substance whence summer makes a splash ...
The advent of an enchanting star dulls a
chant that the Khanate only stains upon its
Golden Horde smolders beneath befriending clouds ...
A whiff that slights Aurelius' bearings yet
still trifles a chalk absence to the presence
of cheese that embellishes the languid tracing ...
The shallow space of bards decreed a crowning
flock of teary favoring san tissues of
lissome verdancy choral ode vibrant charms ...
Worshipped effervescent microscopic dew
bringing into being just one bell prayers
bearing fruits of promise in globule water ...
Petrichor emanates to a hoverance
wisp claim as wandering brevity stands still
amidst a sonder of souls ventured threshold ...
Gold beams glimpsed a bevy coup of a vast crest
as the dripping stalled in evaporating
stares chase a clinked rainbow flaunts with ... creation.
LIFE IS A SONG
Throat cleared and a first breath taken
Life has begun and it’s full of surprises
Soon to sing loudly, but softly at first
A few wrong notes, it’s not the worst
Then keep in tune as the melody rises
From deep within, a voice will awaken
It matures in pitch as the years pass by
From treble to tenor and then baritone
Reflecting life with its twists and turns
But in harmony with others’ concerns
Passionate voice, not a heart of stone
Yet in later years, it takes time to fly
At a certain age, sadly a singing pause
Listening brings back a choral memory
No more solos and a wide vocal range
Remembering a part now feels strange
And a rasping tone sounds like emery
One day, it'll be just residents applause
Written: December 28, 2023
______________________________________
flounder in fictional field
—squeals and squeaks
Whimpers and growls
Sylphic swaying,
of flames spewing,
inwardly throbbing
of my nostril
lobotomized cosmic orbs.
scent of cinnamon
and coral on a rosary
interlaced of aurulent rimes.
Shrouded your burgundy &
coniferous ravines
loop of vitality
& unbearable redemption
in spanning eons,
ineffable wonder cradled
by melodic hums and buzzes
of lazy heat
and whistles of pitches
of endless hymns
echoes of choral chants
sung by soloists.
black ravens croaking,
like peals of doom
dewy allelomorphs
with waft-aloft wings
angels of ethereal whisper
of thunder,
that rang deafeningly
through the crevices,
of anodal motion
scurrilous loci
modeled as diploid.
A different song
enters the symphony hall,
It's not an aria or a choral work,
it's much bigger,
it fills the auditorium.
Outside, on the street,
a busker plays his pennywhistle.
The orchestra and its singers
cease to study scores and song sheets...
pause to listen,
Entranced,
they let the music play on,
through the one throat
of the All.
Cars are the wind on the streets
semi-truck wheels shriek thunder,
rain shatters against stone and brick walls
on dusty roads, oak trees fence with twigs—
wushu wooden clatters.
Dreadful arrays of dryads
azure and amethyst gossamer haze,
sleek, silken strikes gist an opera of wisteria,
as they sway to silver breeze's sibilant rustles.
They chant lullabies in lyrical lilts of hued iridescence,
of hearth and opals back to my scarlet nest.
Angelus silver trills, the sylphic sways of pure rays,
Coral rosary—incense strands of aurulent rimes
hum, endless hymns echo as choral evensong
alleluias softly peal out—doves with wet eyes
that drift upward on whispery—ethereal wings.
Ocean's plea emerges from apothic abyss,
a voice conveys the core of faxed shores and stars,
with earth and wind in a solemn tone.
A cosmic biography—in loud squeals and sighs
sea vernacular hinges on nature's lasting awe.
Breath goes to fog—snow melts into puddles—rain returns,
a china-white grave—encases the deceased deer,
before thawing in the morning—icy skin lies frozen.
An eerie distance holds my hand in a purifying blizzard.
A crisp calm early morning, a sunny clear spring day
Into old beech wood clearing, ocean sailing underway
Lines of rolling waves where tree trunk shadows fall
A sea of nodding bluebells, a distant port of call
Senses overflowing a sweet scent fills the air
Rainforest birdsong chorus a harmonious fanfare
Swollen buds full of promise in the canopy abound
Feathered emerald leaves unfurling to a choral sound
Verdant clouds casting, dappled shade on to the ground
Navigating rural landscape, voyage homeward-bound
Old sailor sighting landfall a beach of golden sand
A field of mustard painted by artistic farmers hand
A glimpse through to horizon a tropical island view
Vibrant Caribbean colours of yellow, green and blue
Parnholt Wood, 25th April 2023
One breath
a sigh
embodied
by the living
host
Hallelujah
rises
in congregation
breathlessly
a choral of
love
It’s in the
dying’s throat
one last breath
It’s up
in smoke
It’s the opening
and closing
of a classic
The book
sits on the
mourner’s lap
It says
all
there is
to say
of bygone days
Tune into
the ever after
Laughter
shall be it’s mainstay
unless you go
the other way
I will pray
The consummate scent of Earth's due decay
Subdues gently the fervor of Death's perennial
Parade, whose incumbent silences the withering leaves
Do so barely correct, by singing tremulous or crying to the choral winds.
But, as with an inspirited indifference, that incensed breeze yet swept
The consummate scent of Earth s due decay
Far from that secret tome whence mortal moments may,
As with grave strength from deepest wells of regret,
Be still distilled into that which, -despite bare Oblivion's
effortless sway-
Thus vivifies such frailty as whereby
The consummate scent of Earth's due decay
Has ever it's beauty in sanctity kept.
And does Death then yet impress a violence but so fair,
As with the mellowing maple leaf, or the ripening pear?
And who would prevent them that Death should repay?
Hence, the consummate scent of Earth's due decay.
Evergreens show the season change it claims.
Timely appearance of golden sunshine
Filtering quenches ripen Autumn wine.
Through window, white sheer curtains ivy frames.
Beneath, pots of Peace Lily and ferns stand.
Still of bright colour, expansive decor
On Mahogany polished wooden floor.
Ornate lamp and lampshade on baby grand.
Their noble lives to be flawless, mincing
Mannerism infused with poetic words.
Choral music of the lively cage birds
Simply most surprisingly convincing.
By the end of day their bruise feet are sore,
Tomorrow, they open their mind to more.
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