( An essay poem about two artists souls )

My beloved, my sweet...
i fed you with love,
i nourished you with my smiles,
my countless patience, my sunshine, my passion

i nurtured you with nature
what you can do to bloom
i whispered in your ears those precious words
added my own blood to your secrets,
our songs became completest absurdic symphonies

only you can make me
as i am today:
a happy creature with free pride
free….but with great responsebility

myriad of people,
with million milliards of interests,
most of them had been in distress
they came to you and they went again
when they came, everyone was stressed and hurt….

as soon as you treated them,
in dutch we say you possess green hands,
and when they left, they arrived at an entirely brand-new land
they had not one pain again
on their new grains of sand….

You came from afar behind the swift clouds,
i saw you, but i had my doubts
you wiped them all away
and made that i wanted to stay
like in a thousand and one nights….

and as a wonder i the rebel
won't go astray anymore at any level….

You made me your owner,
though so many travels together, i am still a loner
believe me my dear, this pure absurdity
believe me, this will last till eternity
A sunlit Molenwijk area where once good hearts lived,
in the midst of summerheat, one season long to forgive
curious odd people were staring at you
like you were a killed living art statue

it is loveliest to know
you are a living ordinary soul who creates,
a living everyday man who penetrates
sick people's mind
your treatments all are oft of a very loving kind
precisely on that place and in that precious time
many fans trust you and your work is over sublime

Molenwijk area is not as before,
a crowded place for online games now
an arcadia in nostalgic plays and updated games
discomfort and nostalgia are now the glowing flames.

somehow those sparkling flickerings make me true sad,
give me the eternal feelings of constantly rushing ahead

Where I reside now with you, my beloved, my sweet
is not to compare with Molenwijk's grandest defeat
each street here is a treasure of leisure
in each corner rests sweet smell of peace
in each home resides sweet smell of our own ease
peace in all hearts, and peace in our own....


© Sylvia Frances Chan -

That shortest visit
reaches infinity
miracle so true
never has end in sight

a most difficult task
i do not ask
but begging you
as you've always been
the friendliest, the nicest
like in the old days
when life still had many opportunities
to soar, to fly
peregrination sans limits
to all wind sighs

always think
that ocean glued to the lovely town
is not a small puddle
immensely large and deep,
this great aqua is not to be trusted,
but no need to weep.

Only human beings you wish to cuddle
people in their dust
born on the same ground
and hearts are found

greatest compassion
keeping that knowledge
all at your own

thy existence
as precious as can be
for me
mainly marvelous present memories

drizzling rains
unexpectedly
for you and me

fortunately not painful
nor for you or for me

in my mind and me
the Birthday stay
so sweet, tremendous crackling cozy
due to the efforts thou doth

i say it this way
baby, it was an unforgettable stay
thank you !

© Sylvia Frances Chan

This early morn
a most beautiful bird
appears at my window
a mockingbird.

She looks at me
her deep darkbrown eyes
wide open gaze at me
I see her smiling.

Her beauty of colour
amazes me
her gift of singing
oh my! Heavenly.

Entirely forgotten
sadness and sorrow
of the night before
this visit asks for more...

© Sylvia Frances Chan

I feed you with love,
I nourish you with my smile,

my endless patience, my sunshine, my passion,
I nurture you with all things
what can do to you to bloom.

I revealed you my deepest secrets
and feed you with my own blood.

Only you can make me
as I am today,
freed from ties in certain way.

Thank you so much
never forget
be grateful to He.

Sylvia

In real life I don't have the courage to utter all these words. By stringing them together, I can get these phrases. I am most amazed what poetry made possible, you can read it in: The Audacity of a Poem

***********

Poems mean a lot to me
since it is reciprocal you see
the society I live in
is reflected in all these lines
love is very important almost a sin
and the always one glasses of wines
always getting in

the best specialist for our health
they say is also The wealth
but I regard love is the most important
remember I am human not a mutant

love is the best for our life
it is obvious that we must strife
love is like the present wind
that blows constantly so tender in
through my thirsty body and mind
I reside in this country oh so kind
a country peaceful, plenty of place and love to hide
that's why I have my domicile here and reside

My beloved likes reading and traveling
we have seen parts of the world a very lot
I have other kinds of interests, like humming
writing essays, feedbacking, listening to music,
and praying to God
building websites, designing cards and yes
conducting PC Help desks, bank-scanning, and chess
in London and Serfaus, musicals and skiing,
along the Mediterranean sea, enjoying life, love while driving

how do I do that, d'you really want to know, dear?
while whatsapping, driving fastest, and the music to the ear
really very simple, love in you, your whole soul in there,
just like our parents using tupperware

but ah, I like most to describe the love in poems I write
posting them for my beloved after that heavy night
since love is so important in our life
you must not take for granted but must strife

we can't miss it in our life its function
like: though sometimes on our highway a junction
it's like the great water of the mighty ocean
it has grip on you, you feel the strenght, but it's addiction
the strong water's ripples too, its mildness
you demand the best, the most but never less
and remember for ever that in the country I live in
the kind of love I'm so addicted to, is never a sin

in the end my heart and being will constantly see
my one and faithful Man,
for Thy most precious gift, I say to Thee
thank You, my Lord. Amen  (fon.: A-'men)

© Sylvia Frances Chan