Returns Poems

My love returns to you like the wind blowing

My love returns to you like the wind blowing
Over forgotten fields, bringing whispers and shadows
From times that seem never to have ended,
It returns like a river seeking its way to the sea.
As the soul comes like a bird, carried by unseen wings,
I don't know from where it comes, but I feel it rising from the

The Madness of the King Returns

Black heart, red tie

Some live, some die

Not smart, not spry

Won't give, won't try

Happy Returns

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
Each in their box, we lay
The same inseparable us
Still many of miles away 
Voiceless and out of sight
Out of memories too
From darkness into the light
Our messages passing through
One day we shall return
In full ignorance who we are
Life’s ethereal, it cannot be learned
It’s the light of the extinct star
Though we are

The Mandate Returns

From the ashes of struggle, we rose—
I, Mao, with fire.
I, Deng, with reform.
Now, Xi walks where dragons tread,
With silence sharper than swords.

Taiwan waits—not to be taken,
But to remember.
For the Art of War wins wars unspoken,
And rivers return to their source.

Do not fear the red sun rising—
It does not burn,
It illumines.

China does not beg the world.
It

When the Sun Returns

When the sun returns
After days of cloud,
Then a celebration
Is allowed.

Take a nice long walk;
Stroll along the beach
Or wherever views 
Are within your reach.

Find a blooming tree
Or a flower bed.
Focus on the day,
Not what lies ahead.

For when sunshine comes,
Even for a while,
It’s enough to cause
All the world to smile.

The echo returns not

The echo returns
Not for my body
But for me to stay alive
When I was a kid I died and turned
Into a lonely ghoul at night
I dance to her songs
I dream of a place where I belong
The echo returns not
Then I have no one to dance along with me 
What a disaster that would be 

The Echo Returns Not

My mind is calm. My senses are composed.
To all kinds of responses, I'm disposed.
Why, my soul, that flew like a boomerang
Gets stuck within vines that, like coiled snakes, hang

Is my soul glad there while I wail in pain?
What, for my long life herein, do I gain?
Within new blooms, my soul might take shelter.
Is my body

The echo returns not

I am but a rose—trembling in the twilight—  
my petals folding into the silence of forgotten songs—my voice buried beneath the weight of earth that never cared—for my call. I stretch—reaching for the sun—  
I no longer believe will return—but the light does not come—never will it come.  
I cry out—not with

The Echo Returns Not

The bare granite hill, worn down each day, 
I climb halfway and call your name. 
A sound rings loud, echoing near, 
Yet only silence fills my ear. 
The hot wind halts, the sky stands bare, 
Yet stillness meets me, cold and rare. 

The valley knows the sound of stone chippers, 
Knows your laughter sweet and

The Echo Returns Not

In the stillness of a twilight hour,
Where shadows stretch and silence grows,
I call out to the fading light,
But the echo returns not, as it goes.
Beneath the boughs of ancient trees,
Whispers linger on the breeze,
Yet every word I cast in air
Is swallowed whole by the unseen seas.
I stand beside the silent brook,
Its waters murmur tales of

The Echo Returns Not

 I call out your name from hilltops and lofty mounts.
But I get no response, not even an echo return.
Once our laughter pulsated through crannies and crevices
And along seastrands with the sibilance of waves and the roar of billows.

When we paced hand in hand with a single song at heart against time and tide, 
Every

THE ECHO RETURNS NOT

Silent is the echo as pride shouts
   selfishness causing pouts...
      self-conceit triumphs over jealousy bouts 
         self-glory reigns with discontentment clouts
            self-reliance wavers upon attacking doubts
   

The Echo Returns Not

The echo returns not,
No one seems to hear my heart cry,
I’m alone in a devoid state,
I wonder if it’s all part of fate.

The echo returns not,
The songs of redemption that we sing,
Come from troubled and despondent souls,
We wonder when we will reach our goals.

The echo returns not,
It’s somewhere interfered in time,
We labour from daylight to

The Echo Returns Not

The Echo Returns Not

Sponsor : Unseeking the Seeker 

[ Poet’s note : SOLOMON MAHLANGU was a South African Freedom fighter & cherished leader in revolutionary army, Umkhonto we Sizwe. He was sentenced to death by hanging, by the Apartheid Government on 2 March 1978 & hung on 6 April 1979. Though he was not actually

The echo returns not

Alone, I stand till pain returns;
The ocean’s waves rise near.
Its roaring drowns the world outside,
Yet cannot quell my tear.

Each day, my pain revives anew~
Afraid, alone, and lost.
The street, my home, my only friend,
A life devoid of cost.

My childhood swept away by winds;
Its echoes sound no more.
From deep within, regret still burns,
An ember at my core.

The

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