How much I love you! Melita, my power.
The petal of my rose,my dawning sun,
that rises my joy,the morning glory flower.
I need of you the feeding with your bun.

O Melita,why'd you sent me away.
You sent me out and banged your door at me.
You never care about me for a day.
You hid your heart where eyes of mine can't see.

What wrong had I committed to get reject'd.
It could because I'm not a weathy guy.
Or cause I'm not the man your heart select'd.
Perhaps you want to say to all men-bye.

I shall keep calm and wait for my true love.
It could be you or any other dove.

#sonnet

There once was a student named Gest.
Among all his classmate,he's best.
He dumped all his books
and followed all
cooks.
Which lastly he failed much the rest.

Unfortunately, I was born with sin.
From womb I've been a dustbin.
Sadly, my society is sinful
and I joined to be
playful.
Truly, sins germinated in my life
and grew up as my wife.
Certainly,I can't be called a saint
even as I put on paint.
Hopefully, my dept had been paid by Christ's death.
I now can take new
breath.
Sincerely, I am
walking toward
righteousness.
Developing an act of
humility and holiness.
Fortunately, I shall
meet the Father
and equally see my
Blessed Mother.

The rays of the sun
kick off the vaporation
of stagnant water.

A saint,
checking the book of life,
his name unfound

#senryu

The best of bards is back
Holding a poetic pack
Returning from exile
Where for a scorpion while,
He buried pen in graves
And sang his songs in caves.

I,a buried,single seed
Repr'senting a silver bead,
Which undergoes a mould,
And was change into gold,
My pen,my seed,both died,
Jaded,my sweet-fans cried.
Forgetting life is death,
And death,a living breath,
A guitter cannot win,
Though quitting is not sin,

The best of bards is back,
Holding a poetic pack.
Come out to watch,to see,
His ink, as if a sea
Flows quietly a-towards,
The way to move forward,
His word is honeybomb,
This pen,a real pipe-bomb,
Will bombs all darkened heart',
Which cause it to depart,
From evil and offence.

So,are you seeking truth?
Is life not walking smooth?
That you awaits to find
The doctor of the mind?
Are your days not nice?
Are your wages poor price'?
Do loved ones cheat on you'
Do your soul suffer boo?
Do you suffer a curse?
Just calm your nerve because,
The best of bar is back,
Holding a poetic pack.

What a cold day in England! Snow covered the whole atmosphere.Every being is shivering in cold.It seem the whole London is locked in a deep freezer.Our blood got thick.Nothing is moving,no sound is heard except the quiet tick tock.The hooting owl is dying.Then we saw.....
      Some pieces of snow
      melting before the sun rise~
      Twenty-first february.