A magnificent flower or a beautiful tree are plants of different breed. You’ll smell their scent float in the air as you inhale to breathe.

An attractive smell is natures spell on every man or beast. I like the aroma of every spice but hate the smell of yeast.

A spray of musk or even oud may change a fellows mood. The fumes of myrrh or sandalwood will make the foolish shrewd.

Our taste may differ from one to one depending on what you wear. But when it comes to what young prefer vanilla is in the air.

But what ladies wear will cast a spell and soften shady hearts. It gives them pleasure in social events while in the crowd they spark.

In every wedding the groom will wait to see his lovely bride, she fills the air with the scent of love a smell no one can hide.

I stare ahead at the wavy blue,
As I recall the lovely sue.
Her love is still well hooked within,
I am not so sure where to begin.
There was a time my heart was free,
A hummingbird on a willow tree.
But what fate had in store for me,
Changed my life a great degree.


I never thought I would fall in love,
With a pretty rose, a tender dove.
She grasped my heart with a swifty swing,
It hit me hard, not just a sting.
I lost my mind and self control,
But knew I’m here to play a role.
For what I learned along the way,
Love is a game no one can play.

I seek a spot,
in paradise.
Where love is hot,
just like a spice.
A place of dream,
where hearts are won,
without a scheme,
when words are done.

Where burning hearts,
become a whole,
not just a piece,
of burning coal.
A lovers nest,
beside the sea,
a place designed,
for you and me.

Where night is day,
and day is night.
A vivid play,
That brings delight.
So when I find,
my precious prize,
I’ll leave behind,
the world of lies.

Don’t seek perfection in a world of deception,
a place of  test for he and she.
If God intended for man perfection,
no mortal being will disagree.

For every time you feel rejection, only the truth will set you free. And when you tread in wrong direction,
your path will lead to misery.

So be alarmed,
request protection,
from every evil in you and me. Extend your hand and attempt connection,
don't hesitate to make a plea.

For every action that causes friction,
will wear our bond and **** our glee.

I was never asked to choose a side,
it is to fate I must abide.
I am the child that war has aged, I am the soul that time has caged.

I am the breeze lost in a storm,
I am that flower whose stem was torn.
I am a dream never achieved,
I am the innocence that war conceived.

Among the rubble I stand alone, my precious home a pile of stone. Out in the cold without a cover,
I starve to death or may recover.

I am the cries and all the screams,
I am the victim of corrupt regimes.
In every battle or every war,
it is my blood they always draw.

I am a bird without his wings,
I am the child who lost his limbs. Amidst the fear and all the dread, I am a body amongst the dead.

To every general who wears a star,
I am the one who bears the scar. I am the only voice of hope,
with all the horror I have to cope.

I am bewildered and feel ashamed,
to see serenity within the sane.
I am, the child of war.

My mind had often wondered of a world beyond our hold, where every soul reveals its secrets and all the truth untold.

With age our youth will fade, and with hope our lives ignite. In a withered cage the soul remains, till the day that brings delight.

Promises made are hard to keep, but in honour I find my pride. A rocky ridge is surely steep, but with courage I must abide.

With a sudden splash there came a flash, of memories that did not apply. With every mood, shy or rude, they stormed my inward eye.  

An honest word, if you uphold, the truth it will unbind, but sassy dreams will only sink, in pools of ***** minds.

Hatred and greed, will bring with speed, disaster to your life, but with love and care, you’ll plant a seed, in the heart of a loving wife.

In moments of death, with a heavy breath release my final sigh, my kin may cry, or even weep, but death to all applies.

Into the grave I shall descend when words are said and done, no saddened eye will shed a tear, when years have passed and gone.

Don't waste your time on play and fun,
if yourself you want to carry.
To wealth and fame you should make a run,
before you are to marry.

In younger days you have a chance to make your life succeed, but if you wait there will come a day from work you shall retreat.

For precious time is gliding by in Winter, Spring and Fall,
in Summer time you should relax as time does bind us all.

Don’t sit and think and take a chance on things you can’t relate, a narrow mind will only end behind an iron gate.

So look above but not too high, not where the kings are sitting, the higher the eye of heavens will rise,
the closer it is to setting.

On stormy days avoid the wind when rules do not apply,
no mortal soul shall have it all, for all are doomed to die.

True love is not a word to recite, but an emotion that your heart is concealing.
Lovers express love all the time, but those are just,
thought to be feelings.
How does one even know,
if it is love for thee they are feeling?

Some lovers are love drunk all the time,
but once awoken,
with hatred they are dealing.
Is that the irony of love?
or is it the lust of the flesh,
that kept you wheeling?

You can’t blame love for what you do,
if not for love,
life would not be appealing.
It is this four letter word,
when truly felt,
to every soulbwill bring healing. Other than that,
all words are simply to your heart teasing.

Your heart may have many beats, but only one tune,
will leave you kneeling.
Look for what I call a wise love, and set aside what to your eyes may seem pleasing.
The painting that is today flamboyant,
tomorrow will be dull and displeasing.

Good deeds don’t go by unnoticed,
just like a daisy,
rose,
or lotus.

I try hard to treat people with kindness,
but seldom rewarded respect or politeness.

Only the sane come back to their senses,
with an act of kindness,
your self-esteem enhances.

I’m never reluctant to lend a hand,
those in need I do understand.

People are born with tempting desires,
Love and compassion,
is what you require.

For all my sins I have remorse,
may God forgive my wicked thoughts.

If I'm to blame for what was done,
in God I trust and not someone.

I thank the lord for all his gifts,
my time on earth had passed so swift.

Crystal teardrops,
and an angel's pearly smile,
a heart of solid gold,
a trail of a thousand mile.
A life of loving themes,
romantic rosy dreams.
Beauty that’s versatile,
and a healthy life style.
I am woman.

White veils and fairy tales,
silky paths and crowds that hail.
Kisses and cuddles,
and warm hugs,
sweet love potions,
in crystal mugs.
An abundance of love,
and a burning desire,
a passionate heart,
and a look of admire.
I am woman.

A broken heart and tears of grief,
a shattered soul,
a withered leaf.
Dark mornings and sleepless nights,
fruitless talks and endless fights.
Glasses of wine and painkillers,
words of hope from fortune tellers.
I am woman.

An honest man,
a faithful soul,
an elegant wedding,
in a lavish hall.
A dozen kids and warmer Springs,
and all the joy that life would bring.
An enduring mother with endless love,
a guarding angel,
a bliss from above.
I am woman.

I praise the wise and respect the wisdom of every old and young, for when they speak they pave the way to every poem or song.

There is a charm in all their words and phrases short or long. In what they say you should believe until you prove them wrong.

When wisdom speaks I always listen to thoughts of brilliant minds,
just like a gem or precious stone or gold in haunted mines.

I feel the words and see them spark in corners everywhere, sometimes I even smell their scent floating in the air.

A set of words in form of art could take your breath away,
for classy words will make you feel in heaven you want to stay.

I wish I was a famous scholar or a poet who plays a part,
I like to think I have a say in themes that steal the heart.

Even the blind wisdom they see gleaming in the dark,
but ignorant words from a stupid fool could tear your life apart.

I sit in darkness,
hiding my pain,
in regions of sorrow,
my thoughts remain.
Torrents of tears,
run down my face.
as I search for comfort,
In a warm embrace.

A thousand thought,
Is cruising my mind.
enduring pain,
of every kind.
Soulless shadows,
Are blocking my way.
I try to resist,
But they push me away.

From the heart of darkness,
I cry out loud.
My feeble voice,
Is lost in the crowd.
I’m losing my mind,
While longing to stay.
My helpless soul,
Is slipping away.

In my darkest hour my thoughts wander, sometimes too far and sometimes just yonder. I find myself in total darkness, without a torch or word of kindness.

Entrapped in space, where sorrow thrives, enduring the pain of a thousand knifes. I feel the tears gather in my eyes, as a hundred questions in my mind arise.

A place beyond, where the forsaken dwell, between the garden of Eden and the gates of hell. Where there is no sound but the sound of silence, or desperate laughter, or cries of violence.

The taste of bitterness ran in my mouth, as my head revolved, from north to south. My heart beat accelerated and exceeded the rate, while on its drums, it violently played.

I hear the queries in the drummers beat, should I advance or should I retreat? My soul is standing on some rocky ridge, do I descend or just cross the bridge?

My thoughts are shattered, for help I call, but my words resonate in a desolate hall. Amidst of worries I seek a light, a sign of hope, or a hand of might.

I have grown weary while strength I assemble, as my feeble hands began to tremble. It could be  light there in the distance, must I bide or seek assistance?

To my Lord I appeal in times of stern, at one’s leisure, good deeds you should earn. My heart is joyful, when dancing to its beat, what tasted bitter, has now turned sweet.

The world maybe bitter and dull,
to some without a meaning,
bright the eye of heaven shall shine, on a day with no complaining.

Hope does fade away sometimes,
on days that are restraining,
and blessed our lives can be,
content without refraining.

Life can be difficult sometimes
when ground you’re hardly gaining, but if you walk a righteous path
good deeds you are attaining.

Prominent you may be,
in a life you are sustaining,
but no pedigree shall save your soul, in a world where all are waning.

In time of death we shall not brag, of deeds that are beshaming, equal we are when deceased, in a world of no explaining, no mortal soul will hear your call, from the grave if you are complaining.

I have never given love much thought,
it was the pleasure that I always sought.
Moments I spent in entwining arms,
attractive odour,
and cunning charms.

Tempting warm lips,
and sweet kisses,
long soft moans,
and ***** wishes.
Shivers of pleasure that made me high,
a pounding heart,
and breathless sigh.

Then I saw a sight I had never seen,
an earthly angel,
or a heavenly being.
A saintly visage bright and demure,
with a slim figure,
but fully mature.

I stood bewildered in total suspension,
but my mind was focused with rapt attention.
As if the angel had shot an arrow, it pierced my heart,
and reached my marrow.

I wished I was in lovers hall, where lovers dwell,
and the maidens call.
From the fountain of love,
they all would drink,
where the doves are white,
and roses are pink.

In moments of mirth I closed my eyes,
as my heart had roamed the fleecy skies.
I felt a bliss from above descend, when to my heart,
a message she sent.

My heart for her began to sing,
as she made me feel I am the king.
For every king there is a throne, my earthly angel will be my own. With a steady hand and a glass of wine,
I salute all lovers, that love have defined.

My sweet canary just loves to sing,
with his yellow beak and golden wing.
His lovely songs will make you shake,
all other tunes will sound a fake.
But as I sit and think alone,
NoI feel my heart is made of stone.
My precious bird could be my sin,
I keep his soul well locked within.
For every soul is born so free,
I doubt your mind will disagree.

No words shall please my soul,
if not from deep within.
In life we laugh and weep,
as moods with time do spin.
Even a poet does need a flare,
to devise his ringy rhymes.
To sculpt a verse from solid words,
is a masters work, sublime.

When fine words mingle and mix,
with sweet lovely emotions,
a lady’s heart will surely yield,
without showing a notion.
Delightful words do cast a spell,
on people where they stand.
Being a charmer may pay your rent,
to the lady of the land.

No torrent is strong or tough,
to sweep a poets will.
And no drought is harsh enough,
to dry a poets well.
Eloquent words,
soft and smooth,
too far from being absurd.
When spoken loud,
they steal the show,
on every stage and stand.

O Spring season of love for every plant and beast, from early March till later May the charming guest would feast.

In mother nature you’ll see the signs of all Divine designs. You will see the beauty on every face including yours and mine.

Daffodils will sway in open fields and lands that have declined. Flowers shall blossom and roses will bloom on every stem and spine.

Stallions will tease and gallop away in single pairs and lines. Even the birds their mates would mock before they do combine.

You’ll spot the fish of every hue in every pond or lake, but monkeys would scream and run away from every coily snake.

The crocks would stretch on river banks in search of warmth and shine, even  the bears will lazily rest under the shady pine.

lovebirds will flirt and build a nest on every woken tree, music would play and bells would ring in all the lands and sea.

When young are born or even hatch they’ll match the colours of spring, parents would feed and nurse away as the young will proudly sing.

I raised my sight towards the heavens, and stared deep into the night.

There is no sound but the sound of silence, or maybe the sound of space out of sight.

On earth I have seen many wonders, but none like the sky when alight.

Scattered stars into the black glitter, some fairly dim and some glow too bright.

Some for the naked eye are clear, to saddened hearts they bring delight.

In some you can see formations, but others are too far apart.

To man the universe may seem simple, or just a display of celestial art.

A vast knowledge beyond our comprehension, Godly creation that we can’t explain.

Some knowledge mankind has mastered, but what lies beyond will drive you insane.

I see a shooting star there in the distance, in silence a humble servant I remain.

A bird was humming,
not far away.
In search of nectar,
in midst of May.
I looked from yonder,
at beating wings.
A sight of wonder,
in early spring.

A little bird,
with a slender bill.
Who seeks a rose,
in field and hill.
From every flower,
he takes a sip.
With ease and skill,
he makes the trip.

As He devoured,
some honey flower.
His thoughtless mind,
devoid from power.
There are two things,
he seeks in life.
To earn a meal,
and find a wife.

I sit alone,
and meditate.
I think of kin,
I dare to hate.
I think of things,
that I have done.
I think of people,
we live among.


I think of deeds,
that shame my soul.
I think of sins,
I can’t control.
But as I embrace,
my inner peace,
my true emotions,
begin to feast.


To God I pray,
with all regret,
and hope my sins,
I can forget.
In time of need,
He is my guide.
He is indeed,
the righteous side.

Here sits the widow silent and pale,
from the heart of darkness her sorrows hail.
Mournful eyes,
shattered thoughts,
bloodless veins and soundless calls.

With her broken heart her mind would plea,
her eyes are open but unable to see.
A saddened look,
and a tired heart,
an endless journey that tore her apart.

Entrapped within avoid of time,
where the moaners sing,
and misery rhymes.
In the kingdom of grief,
the widow resides,
where the temples are haunted,
and pain abides.

In the halls of hope the grievers meet,
in search of comfort and a blissful seat.
In total humility their hearts would pray,
for peace of mind and a happier day.

I wouldn’t say that life is fair,
but sometimes the wind blows in our favour.
We do sense tension in the air, every time life issues a disclaimer.
In life you may be coerced,
in to becoming a self blamer.

What bitterness and grief has life in store for me?
If only my good deeds redeem me from being a shamer.
You may mock me for what I am today,
but tomorrow to your deeds you will be a claimer.

Whatever good you do along the way,
will come back to save you when you need acclaimer.
On earth you have no time to spare,
on your target you should be the aimer.
Life can be shocking sometimes, but no need to be the exclaimer.

It’s little things that do count in life,
if to your soul you want to be a tamer.
A friendly smile or a nod of the head,
to your self-esteem you will be a reclaimer.
Or a kind word that might earn you respect,
or for which you could enter the hall of famer.

Honour your word and gain peoples hearts,
to your reputation it won’t be a restrainer.
Seek wisdom in the womb of life, to your dignity it will be a maintainer.
Don’t sell your soul for what it’s worth,  
unless you want humiliation to be your enslaver.

Poetry is a verbal engagement, that tells a story in a rhythmic arrangement.

Poetry is a form of linguistical art,
that evokes your sentiments,
right from the start.

The beauty of a poem lies in its meanings,
and the true emotions that the poet is feeling.

Some poems when read may sound to you dull,
but to many others,
they do ring a bell.

Our tastes may differ,
from one to another,
but a good solid poem,
can bring us together.

For every poet has a different style,
the clever one,
will stand out from a mile.

If Life is easy,
why do we strive?
And search for hope,
to keep us alive.
And feel the pressure,
which causes pain.
And leaves a mark,
or an ugly stain

It makes me wonder,
if I am astray?
Or a marionette,
in a child's play.
Or am I an actor?
in a grand display.
Or have a message,
I must relay.

So many times,
I am lost for words.
Which help express,
my hidden hurts.
They bring relief,
and inner healing.
When life is dull,
and not appealing.

Sometimes I wish,
a peaceful death.
At dawn I leave,
with the morning breath.
But I am not the one,
Who's in control.
When time will come,
He’ll make the call.

My words might sound to some strange,
or my rhymes maybe rough around the edges.

I only write what I can arrange,
I don’t need to stand on any bridges.

Sometimes I am not in my right state of mind,
all my thoughts are scattered along the ridges.

But other times I glow bright like a star,
or piece of art in its fringes.

No matter how hard you try,
you can’t please people,
even if your words are riches.

What your heart tells you is always right,
so don't ignore your pain and look at the stitches.

Continue to write what’s on your mind,
and don’t stop as long as you’re writing hand itches