FOR MY MOTHER

Let today be the best so far

Today for which we appreciate the breasts we suckled

A bosom upon which we nestled our head when depressed

Into arms we are cuddled when we are sick

She is a gem, who gives us priceless gift of love

Packaged in life we live as offsprings of the earth

While in humble steps we ply the path of life

Even our shortcomings she helps to correct

Today I show my dearest love

For my mama for only and only for her it is due.

STRONG MEN NOT YET IN CRADLE

From the cradle, in cooing and cuddle

Do the strong men learn the infant heart

Farther from the rumble and beat of life full of air

Yet in distress does the labour of breath come

The humble in heart learn to live from simple to great

For if the things of the world are too many

Weighty upon heavy mind

Thus the heart burn of its well-being

As the soul, with sighs and songs, reduce to the ashes it come from

For passion in dreams awaken the sleeping best of us

And in faith with hope trailing do we find company

On this lone path pressed from side to side

The distractions of the age of our days

Divided between fragrance and frailty of failed labour of our bleeding palms

As fragments of days of old best lived

In turmoil and joy as mixed feeling

Fueling our very self with anger against life

Which have reduce into wintry eve

With the warm wind with the noon forgone

Forbidden from the moment past spent

MY LAST THOUGHT.

My last thought shall echo through eternity

Not in vain shall my earthly valour be

Rather in quest does it vanquished

But by this the great heart of mine shall be

Between sighs and pants though strive through

Even if all surrender while faith seemed to fail

 But to my bosom hold tight,

Like my very life, the very thought of this moment esteem

Though the presence may never be regained

Yet the tomorrow is the only consolation we get

To correct the errors of the vain days spent

And today as a link to generations stringed to our loins,

Shall be the memory scripted in this last thought

Share with the time at hand.

The voice from the past calling home

Calling to the generations of the age yet to be

Telling the stories of valiant heroes

Through the resonance of ancient time

Vibrating in this bones of my youth

And in conduct and gesture thus the silent sounds of our forefathers echoes

Through my innocent lips

Made of clay yet glitter in wit

But all said and done, in my last thought shall my life be read

As I course from this stream of reality

Beyond this footfall reduce into solitude from this noise of living

But If the good God grant me the last wish as an appendage to this failing moment

 My last thought shall for nothing but you.

COMMON TEMPTATION

Dangle and dangle the ancient fruit

An apple rich in gracious red

Before the feeble eyes lost

Even in the fleshly skull

Though lie on the glorious bed of roses

The sigh from the plaint passage lure

Across the dark stream she beckons

With batting lashes with her sensual groan accompanied

To her lustful bosom

Sweat in fragrance, yet heaving with damnation

For the lost youth

With bright future to be destroyed by momentary pleasure

In this common temptation.

THE WINTRY MORNING RISE

Could we ride together

When the blazing sun rode on the sultry wind

Or on the blue sky that ember

To glow the morning abreast wintry season

And these cold autumn leaves

Blessed and endowed with pleasant colours

Shed of tree which have stood time

But to wither or die

Yet  nourished the earth with its riche fibers

And waft and lay like Assyrian carpet

Upon a royal path

Which wandered through the woods

Stripping naked by cold weather

When the earth was rich in green or with colours floral be

In this wintry morning rise.

LIFE, A BLESSING FOR THE SOULS OF MEN

Slow and steady the stable feet walk

Sigh and sigh the lung does

Pant, oh pant, the fainting heart

Broken and bled by the time that hurt

So, harsh the sight of the feeble eyes

With tears so hard to shed

Hot upon the lids that flutter 

Because of the dangerous wind that pierce

Prickle the irises thus enough of life has seen

Enough, oh, enough of what sorrow and joy blend

Blend together for the heart broken but mended in its shattered form it be

However think of what future hide from innocent eyes

Wandering the earth with bleeding soles

Crushed and pressed by ceaseless storm

Nonetheless, blessed is the head through briars and thorns wear the crown

Stellar crown studded with bright colours

The man that conquer

The world of struggle and pain

The tiny feet with wintery lips to firstly bear

With foremost shrilling cry

Pleasant for adult winsome smile of expectant eyes

For the patter of tiny feet that crawl,

Life is a blessing for the souls of men.

AFTERLIFE

I walk my days  between sleeps,

Rest my burning bosom between the walks of the earth

Yet in my gasp, even though while life is not in my grasp,

I witness with heaven and the earth the dawn dissolve through the sun into dusk,

All coming forth with the same message:

‘Vanity! Vanity! Vanity, the walk of this earth!’

Maybe, when all in this cycle of existence narrow down into insignificant closure

Even in fairness of sounds and sight of reality experienced,

With the best of us well explored,

At the celestial call

My soul shall spring forth, however,

Not just in the life well spent nor grandeur of moments shared

Nor the fragrance of my mortal experience,

But as sure as my very breath loaned me from above,

Of glorious afterlife.