MY WORLD
SO MUCH TURMOIL.
COME HEAR ME .
FOR YOUR EYES PUT ME AT PEACE.
YOU TOUCH ME WITH SOFT WINDS
AND ENTER MY HEART WITH LOVE .
COME LET ME HOLD YOU.
PROTECT YOU.
WHILE IM AT EASE.
BE MNE FOR ETERNITY.
IN MY WORLD THERE IS NOTHING WITH OUT YOU.
LET ME BE YOUR OMEGA.
THE ONE YOU REST YOUR HEAD ON.
FOR I WILL NEVER LEAVE YOU WEARY OR BROKEN.
MY FIRE FEEDS OFF YOUR AIR.
LEAVE ME WITH YOUR HANDS.
I CAN ONLY GIVE YOU MY HEART.
BUILD AN EMPIRE FOR MY QUEEN, MY LOVE.

The flame upon a candle sits,
its light against the darkness pits.
Its strength the slightest breeze will tax,
and press it low to melted wax.

Persistent flicker 'til the dawn,
when wax is spent and flame is gone.
In this nocturnal vigil kept,
a thousand fears from night are swept.

So are lives like candles lit,
each pushing back the dark a bit.
And when the day arrives at last,
the flame to glowing wick is passed.

(Re-submission, was posted just around the time of Neopoet's website crash)

Feeding her baby
she kisses her good night
thanking the Lord for his blessings
then watches the Moon
from her cold bed
longing for the kisses of her Love

Somewhere in those stars
her knight lies prone
shorn of their love in its bud
bathing her in warmth
with his cascading light
playing on her probing fingers

I would've electrified the air,
sparkled it with rust and lemons.
Ah, but there is not time for that!
Only time
for
aggravating
and troublesome demands
flooding like
paper chairs
in the water.

I would have dreamt of more solutions.
Left them littered like dandruff
on the pinnacle of creation.
Ah, but there is not time for that!

There's never time for impossibilities.
Too many
concrete diaper's
demanding to
be filled.

The symbolism of this Christmas classic
has a second, hidden meaning for the ages.
For this song has an ulterior motive,
contained in verses that seem outrageous.

Christ is the truest fulfillment of Love,
in the primary doctrine of Christianity;
therefore, He is the focus of each refrain,
being the sin offering on Crucifixion’s tree.

The pair of turtle doves represents books,
volumes of both the Old and New Testaments.
The Bible embodies the Spirit of God calling…
for the World to turn to Christ and repent.

Door bells ringing, children singing
Christmas songs, just for you.
Joy they bring, with smiling faces
hoping for a coin or two.

Church bells ringing, choirs singing
Christmas carols by candlelight.
As the faithful come to worship
on this special holy night.

Lights are on the Christmas tree
pretty colours reflect on the wall.
Excited little ones, trying to sleep
hoping Santa, will come to call.

Lords of the air
keeping the peace
when in the right hands
dread war may cease

Lords of the air
masters of war
wreaking untold damage
an end we deplore

Lords of the air
beauty unfurled
sleek, fast and deadly
when set on the world

Lords of the air
dangerous foes
you'll pray for your life
before one of those

Lords of the air
generations of peace
destructive yet docile
if warfare should cease.

Some thoughts about the household cat,
an independent cuss is that.
Not like the family dog who'll sit,
or on your lap will try to fit.

The dog obeys the master’s call,
the cat it seems can't hear at all.
The dog will let you pet a bit,
the cat just out of reach will sit.

The dog tries to communicate,
the cat treats you like real estate.
The cat when only in the mood,
allows affectionate interlude.

A disassembled life of pictures, books and curiosities,
scattered all about.
Huge jigsaw puzzle meaning little at a glance.
The reason for each piece recalled as dusted off and
packed within a pasteboard box taped tightly shut.
Each box stacked neatly in the center of the room,
waiting patiently to be gathered up and carried off to
some new lodging near or far away.
Their contents emptied in due time and
transformed into a life again.

Seven long summers, I slept in your lap,
With thousands thirsty bugs in your sari
And millions mosquitoes over your head
Sucking all my jaundiced blood drop by drop.

In rainy days, I heard you cry and sob,
Seeing me take some stale rice and rat-smelt dal
And live on just two modest meals a day,
Turning myself into a bag of bones.

I used to wake up late to miss my milk,
And save some coins every cloudy morning;
My friends and field work used to freak me out,
You just warned me not to miss the tilting.