A hymn inside my head, your voice so dear,
you haunt me in my sleep and in my wake.
Somewhere deep within, your whisper I hear,
crisp and clear, as perfect as a heart ache.
Sad images I keep, nightmares I take.
Still, I go forward onto my own road,
towards the rising sun for my soul’s sake.
How I’ve prayed my heart be free of this load-
of the memory of your lovely voice,
or a tomorrow not meant for this world.
Thus, heart’s happiness is always a choice,
to go on and live as a wise man told.
Forever lingering, scars will not mend,
yet, someday its feel a forgotten fiend.
Sep 9, 2011
Sep 9, 2011 at 10:26 PM UTC
Steady pour of the rain,
a hypnotic hymn.
The morning air grows cold,
a warm blanket’s comfort.
Must get up for the day,
no more time for delays.
Still the entranced mind sleeps.
Ten more minutes, please.
Some moments gone astray,
satisfying embrace.
The blanket’s coziness,
my sweet pillow’s softness.
Waking up with a start,
panic gripped my heart.
Peaceful moments, a bait.
Now, I am really late.
Sep 7, 2011
Sep 7, 2011 at 5:03 AM UTC
Life can be a burden,
sometimes maddening.
One can feel the pain.
This world can be tiring.
In my darkest moment,
I wanted to run.
With such bitterness,
wanted to end everything.
But, there was always you.
In my desperate hour,
you’ve given me hope,
Shown me my path to go.
You might not realize it,
I’m so glad you came.
You gave meaning to my life.
Thanks for being here.
Sep 7, 2011
Sep 7, 2011 at 5:01 AM UTC
Lovely day
sunny sky
Brightens me
Lifts me up
A new day
Full of hope
Inspires me
Excites me
Friends faces
Lots of laughs
Easy talk
Delightful walk
Then it pours
Icy cold
Spine tingling
Reaching the soul
Lonely day
So grey sky
Happy heart
Turning sad
No changes
Helpless case
My deep sorrow
I need to go.
Sep 7, 2011
Sep 7, 2011 at 4:58 AM UTC
A little girl was excited,
on one special gift, delighted.
With the sweet thought, she slept,
hoped for the promise be kept.
Early morning, there were gifts,
boxes with beautiful lids.
From the love of her father,
pretty gifts like no other.
But the little girl frowned.
The missing gift was learned.
Her father, she was hoping,
had left for a meeting.
My friends, the message is clear
In love, remember so dear;
It is a commitment.
Let time be its fulfillment.
Sep 7, 2011
Sep 7, 2011 at 4:57 AM UTC
They are charming figurines,
molded in smooth porcelains.
With the sweet face of a child,
their lovely wings speak their kind.
Garbed in robes of white and gold,
they are quite a dear to hold.
Such beauties in Christmas trees.
Some real wonders to see.
Yet angels are more than that.
They are messengers of God.
An angel represents hope,
a promise of peace and love.
Sep 7, 2011
Sep 7, 2011 at 4:53 AM UTC
Three wise men searching.
In a wide desert, looking.
A child was promised.
Myrrh, gold and incense,
wonderful presents they bring.
Fit for a true king.
A bright star, their guide.
Its light illuminating,
showing the right way.
Upon a stable,
the star shines brilliantly.
At last, He is found!
Shepherds are gathered.
Animals around are hushed.
The place is tranquil.
Angels are singing,
voices soft yet glorious.
Rejoicing for Him.
And there, the child sleeps.
In a soft manger He lays.
The world is at peace.
Sep 7, 2011
Sep 7, 2011 at 4:44 AM UTC
You are my sunshine
A splendid warmth
Such a joy in my heart.
You are my rain
Innocent longing tears
I dry them with kisses.
You are my heaven
Enchanting face so bright
My little delight.
You were tiny back then
My little man
Now you’ve grown up.
Still you have that smile
So amazing
Simply dazzling.
You are my little one
Mine to hold
My gift from above.
Sep 7, 2011
Sep 7, 2011 at 4:43 AM UTC
It started with one call
A silly girl’s prank
I shouldn’t have agreed
I have my decency.
You were fooled by my friend
Gave you a false name
She laughed with you at ease
I listened with such tense.
Suddenly, she was gone
The phone was in my hand
I heard your warm voice
Reluctantly, I spoke.
You didn’t realize
Didn’t seem to notice
It had been a tease
Thus, began a tale of lies.
Some things to clarify;
I am a lady
I have my dignity
I think myself highly.
But to hear you- a treat
To know you more- a gift
What am I to do?
You know I love you.
For every deception
I’d given up my soul
For every sweet lies
I’d swallowed my pride.
Caught in my own game
A web of my own making
My conscience haunts me
The truth must be free.
Will you love me for being me?
Sep 7, 2011
Sep 7, 2011 at 4:42 AM UTC
Criticism is a law of life,
and still, an awful price.
It speaks for the best of men,
and yet, crushes many dreams.
It is an excellent reminder,
for us to strive… work better.
We may never win, as we take the test.
We may please some, but never the rest.
Facing criticism may be tough.
We tend to break and lose all hopes.
Better think of trees,
bearing the most sweetest fruits.
And of little boys,
mischievous, hungry for sports.
How they ignore trees without fruits,
but love to throw at trees bearing fruits.
Sep 7, 2011
Sep 7, 2011 at 4:40 AM UTC