I walked past blue mountains,
Beside the crystal stream —
I ambled deep into the forest,
In a mist of emerald green.
Beams of light pirouetted,
Sol’s fire of purity,
Birds preened their wings,
In a shade of serenity.
Whispers rustled in the air,
Earth, water gushed,
A hymn of wind in symphony,
In harmony though hushed.
Midst the song of the forest,
A murmur in the breeze,
My soul, engulfed in silence,
Yet singing . . . at peace.
I stood on firm earthen ground,
At one with trees and ferns,
Knowing it’s from here I come,
And here I will return.

I stool in front of the mirror
Looked at myself for long,
Whilst two pair of eyes sat on the bed and looked at me lovingly,
I turned this way and that way,
Am I beautiful I mumbled,
Are my eyes big,
Are my lips thin,
Have I a captivating smile,,
I looked at my physique,
Seems okay.
Then I felt two pairs of arms around my waist,
Mum we love you,
You are you,
Unique,
You are beautiful from deep within.
That is your worth.
26/4/2025

It's a different
day and age now.
I used to write my
poetry on scraps of
paper or napkins,
paper sacks, whatever
was handy.
One time, I wrote
a poem
on a paper plate--around in
a circle.
I get dizzy thinking about it.
They always got lost, or beer
spilled on them.
My girlfriend blew her
nose on a sonnet.

Now, I keep all my
poetry and short stories on
the computer.
A file for this.
A folder for that.
I have to use a password, and
PIN.
It has to be something important to
me or I will forget it.
Lower case.
Upper case.
Symbols.
Numbers.
It's enough to drive me
batty.
Actually, it's a short putt.
Summer is coming soon, so I
thought some golf humor would
be appropriate.

The things that used to be
important to me aren't anymore.
*****.
Drugs.
Having a woman around
constantly.
I like to think I've gained some
wisdom with age.

Passwords, ugh!
I can't tell you what's important
to me now.
You might hack into my
computer and steal all my
pretty posey.

In search of ladybugs,
Cause my life is in shambles.
Lost the hope,
No energy to cope,
Down the *****,
I'm losing myself,
Daydreams are eating me,
Glued to phone,
I'm losing me.
My goals are leaving me,
And I'm tired of chasing them.
I forgot who I am,
I lost myself.
So let me pull the anchor,
Let me move faster,
So I'd get myself back.

If only my camera could see,
What my eyes could.
A painting made by the nature.
Sky of blue spread in,
Like watercolors.
Clouds of red and orange,
Smudged like in oils.
White mist and birds,
Standing out like acrylics.
The details I see,
Sunshine on coconut trees,
Thunderstorms in the evening,
Stars poking in,
With the peace of sunset.
I dream of becoming one,
With the beauty that I see.
Stand tall and still,
Like the mountain hill.

Little Drummer Boy

The drummer
We see today,
Is still the 'Little Drummer Boy'
From yesterday.
His dreams
You gave,
Still, bounce along 
The beats to the eternal song,
Breathe new life 
In the air today,
So he may fulfil 
His destiny.

Change me like a Rubik’s Cube

Can we taste glory, not shame?

Faith is a full-sensory experience;
Enliven our senses today that we may claim Your glory.

We often live deep in our thoughts,
Surrounded by the shame
Of this world.
Tasting the fruit of evil,
But You are calling me to life.

Love me; shower me with Your sunshine,
Change me like a Rubik’s Cube,
And free me
From the entanglements
Of my shame.

May I never be the same!

Mustard Seed

Mud cakes, sand castles, dress ups and... Make-believe;
Child-like curiosity, awe, wonder and...
Other-world conceive.
Silence, in a busy grownup world, gives opportunity for playfulness you can retrieve,
Embrace these moments, seek them out, faith like a mustard seed, oak trees sprout.