Golden ships on oceans sail
Laden with riches of ill-gotten gains
Beyond the reach of suffering slaves
Poverty stricken in their mother lands

With no hope for advancement
Fleeced of dignity and pride
By worldly statesmen and warlords
Without an iota of shame to hide

Civilisation is impotent
To interfere with world affairs
So these golden ships sail on
With their looted wares

Little Monkey was up and about,
“What a glorius day!” he would shout,
For as with all youthful beings,
Each day is an adventure new;
No worries, no problems,
Or maybe just a few,
Nothing however to be depressed,
‘tis the wondrous gift of youth,
Innocence with which they’re blessed

the red sun sinking in the horizon
we can enjoy it many minutes more
before mosaic waves of brilliant colours
descend upon the evening sky for sure

Lovers in the garden one summer’s night,
Were smitten speechless by an awesome sight,
Everything was bathed in a light of love,
The full moon smiling distantly above,
Letting their imagination run free,
They saw fairies beneath a sleeping tree,
Serenity simmering all around,
A lovely moonlight garden they had found.

Not so wonderful the world today ,
For madness has surely come to stay,
Goodness no longer is in the store,
Evil slowly kicked it out the door;
Intelligence seems so hard to find,
Stupidity always close behind,
World wars linger always on the brink,
Closer than what we would want to think;
No matter what all religions teach,
Love and Peace are always out of reach.

I thought of you one dark and moonless night,
Beneath our lone star glinting so bright,

My thoughts drifted back to the days of old,
When we cuddled beneath the stars so cold,

We had dreams that we never really shared,
Living apart we seldom showed we cared,

And now your cancer has snatched you away,
Only bittersweet memories will stay,

I hope you’ve found happiness where you are,
I pray you have found your celestial star.

I thought of you that dark and moonless night,
When our  star was glinting very bright,

The fairies hold their annual dance,
On the fourteenth month of the year,
This is not on your calendar,
You won’t know if it’s far or near.
The fairies’ world is next to us,
Invisible, unseen, unheard,
Their celebrations are all there,
But humans will not be disturbed.