Punching the numbers
I get the feeling of being lost
In the sequence of the memories
I feel my feet touch the ground
So when I open my bag
There is emotional side of me
Flickering in the dark.

Down in the pitch black
I look for the tiny spark
In the stories of old age
I look forward to happy times
And then I pull up myself
Found that I can stand
for a while more for a start.

The dark clouds clear and move
The sun makes the way
When mountains stand in path
From a valley it shines
And I know in truth
Darkness guides to
The road of eternal light
When no other lamps make you sway.

I wander throught the works of art
upon a gorgeous but cool day,
Bewildered by the beauty
(and the price they ask to pay).

Paintings hang in canvas booths
in styles of every kind.
Statues, crafts and metalwork
aesthetically designed

Food and drink and music too
a rousing, festive place.
But oh my friends, the greatest art
was smiles on every face.

So many strangers mingling
with a common goal to share
To wit: a friendly greeting
and goodwill enough to spare.

Indeed, the day was perfect
with weather cool and fine.
But nothing tops a friendly smile
in harmony with mine.