Ardent kings will come and go,
But pearls stay true forevermore.
Pink, purple, blue & black,
White the preferred from the stack.

For very shade, a winning wink,
Inviting, its beauty to drink.
Fascinating every enamored eye,
Content on velvet to lie.

How the dreadful deep,
such a jewel could keep?
Shuts every mouth in wonder,
Even the quick-tongued surrender.

Worn with grace and honour,
The crowds cease to utter.
Silent applause by stupefied glances,
Asked later for numerous dances.

Humbly fetching, never antique,
Others with vile vanity reek,
Your mistress, thanketh the one above,
For tis whom she will love.

Day after day, like the dew,
Qouth she, "I love you".

I hear a wind whispering from the hills
It comes down tickling the woodland rills
From far is heard the frightened murmur of leaves
As it pounces on them like wayside thieves

It shakes the branches of flowering trees
And their weak petals drop like confetti in the breeze
Over hills and trees it loves to skip and stray
Always in motion, never inclined to stay

It moves unhampered over streams and field
With no resistance to its might, they simply yield
Like a child, it romps over the sloppy meadows
In its gentle touch, dances the gleeful flowers

It skillfully pleats the blue chiffon of the ocean
Sometimes curling waves in electric motion
Over the sea it runs puffing up the sails
And over the sky heaping clouds in bales

Sometimes it steals furtively like a lover
And disappears kissing our cheeks under cover
Often it comes capering with a lilt and a swing
We feel delighted when we hear its merry song

Like a nomad, the wind roams from place to place,
Hiding its mysterious presence from our glance
From an unknown hide out it comes like a spirit
But always making us feel its vigorous might!

At times it gains force and roars like a beast
Felling trees and wreaking havoc with its twist
In rampage, it sweeps the sea and the ground
Triggering sparks of fear and horror all around

In my dreams
there is a bird
and it sings
all night long
there is a fish
in a river
who's lost
it's memory
a worn work shirt
that smells strongly
of love
there is a man
and a woman
clocking out at dusk
there is someone
I can never remember
and in the Inn
of night
there's a dead man
a stranger
at the window.

I don't expect my poems to be on trending,
nor to receive praises
I just want to express
all the stress
life gave me