The Specter

The darkness fell over him

Like a shroud over a cadaver

His unseeing eyes seeing all

And his silent lips telling countless tales

As he sat there quiet and forlorn

Lost and feeble

His arms trembling on his walking stick

As the cold chilled his arthritic bones

She lay there

Just beyond the great sycamore

Separated from him by death

When nothing could in life

He cursed the tears in his eyes

Those cold pearls of sleet

He cursed the snow that covered her now

For he knew she would hate it so

As the darkness grew

He knew it was time

Time to go, time to depart

He placed the lilies on her headstone again

And slipped into his coffin a few feet away… …

The Autumn Leaves…

I walk along the path

Amidst the red and yellow autumn leaves

Through the mass of gingko and oak

The colors delight my soul

And I remember you…

Some find autumn to be sad

To be reminiscent

Of a decaying before the end

But to my heart they bring hope

Hope that we shall meet again in the spring…

It is raining outside

And everything's so cold and weary

The wind pierces through to the very core

But my heart is warm and content

Because your memories live within…

Can love die or fade away?

Can what lies in my heart diminish

Because you are so far away?

Just as the spring will bring fresh shoots and the sun

So also someday we shall love again…

The Promise.

I stood there on the porch
Looking at the dark cloudy sky
The moon was hidden
To the plain searching eye.

The breeze was cold
The night quiet as a mouse
My heart was silent
As if it nursed a secret grouse.

It sought the moon,
That pale white orb,
To soften the pain and sorrow,
To deaden the sound of a sob.

And then the moon came forth,
Like a knight in white armour,
And in it my eyes saw reflected
The face of my paramour.

Her gentle face, adorned by the lustre of the moon,
The clouds her soft tresses,
And the stars her eyes,
Twinkling with mirth and joy.

I know somewhere on some porch,
She too stands looking at the moon.
And in the moon, our eyes meet,
Promising to meet very, very soon.

Your Mona Lisa Smile....

As the rain pitter-pattered outside,
And the trees swayed in the wind,
I think of you,
And your angelic smile.

You smile your smile at me,
When I tell you I love you,
You smile again,
When I tell you I could never live without you.

You say nothing, you never do,
You just smile,
You just grin away,
Like a Cheshire cat guarding a secret.

I search for a meaning,
I search for a sign,
One that would tell me of your love,
But you smile away.

And then I realise
The secret behind your Mona Lisa smile.
The love that beats in your heart,
Comes forth each time as your smile.

The Fire Within...

We stand there,
Looking out together into the distance,
The sky is reaching for azure,
The sea is calm,
The sun is setting,
Its flames sputtering out,
In the cool waters of the Bay.

And I feel a feeling of warmth,
A glow that was surreal,
As you put your head on my shoulder,
As your delicate fingers play around with your curls,
Your other arm curls around my arm,
Your hand enclosed in mine.

You are wearing that dress I love,
The white one with the pink flowers on it,
And your tresses are untied,
Blowing in the cool sea breeze,
Filling the air with a fragrance ever so divine,
Like a jasmine blooming in the night.

And then you look up at me,
With those beautiful brown eyes,
Your cheeks rosy,
Like a white flower with just a tinge of red on it,
As we looked in each other’s eyes we knew,
The greatest of oceans couldn’t make our love go out,
Because it isn’t just the heat of the moment,
Because it is a fire that burned within us.

Ode To Loved Ones

In the silence of the world,

I was afraid,

The quiet seemed ever so noisy to me.

And then I heard a faint heartbeat,

Your heart beating for me,

A sweet pleasant sound,

Like a lullaby easy on the ear,

It drove away my fears

And lulled me to sleep

In a slumber ever so pure.

In the darkness of the world,

I was afraid,

The shadows seeming like monsters.

And then I saw a bright light,

Your love overflowing for me,

A beautiful heavenly light,

Like the sun rising in the morn,

It drove away my terrors,

And filled me with new energy,

And a desire to live again.

In the noise of this world,

I was afraid,

The clamour deafened my soul.

And then I heard your dulcet voice,

Your soothing words of reassurance for me,

An angel’s promise that all will be well,

Like a nightingale in the midst of a burnt forest,

It drove away my sorrows,

And made me shout out

Challenges ever so many to the world.

No matter how much I say this,

I could never be able to repay you in full,

So take this as but a part of my gifts,

I love you, and I can say no more.

He Wishes for The Cloths of Heaven....

Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Inwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

- W.B. Yeats

Image courtesy: Links2Love

How doth the moon shine this night....?

The moon stands resplendent
In her raiment of silver and gold,
The sweet mistrals blow
Her lustrous brown tresses,
And soft strings of light
Bounce off her curls.

Her face shines beautifully
Like Pallas Athena in Her Parthenon,
Her eyes sparkle
Like emeralds set in ivory,
Her delicate brow calls
For one to be lost in its expanse.

She smiles, ah, that glorious smile,
And her cheeks turn so red,
To shame the most brazen of roses,
The most precious of rubies.
Her laughter, have you heard one
More innocent, more melodious,
That even the nightingale stops
To recollect her tune.

I stand in her light,
Bathed in her glory,
I pray this night never end,
That she never forsake me,
That no cloud ever comes
Between me and her,
That the sands of Time
Flow ever so slow this night,
So that I may gaze in her eyes,
And be lost for all Time, For all eternity……

Poem of The Day - I Love Thee - Thomas Hood

I love thee—I love thee!
'Tis all that I can say;—
It is my vision in the night,
My dreaming in the day;
The very echo of my heart,
The blessing when I pray:
I love thee—I love thee!
Is all that I can say.

I love thee—I love thee!
Is ever on my tongue;
In all my proudest poesy
That chorus still is sung;
It is the verdict of my eyes,
Amidst the gay and young:
I love thee—I love thee!
A thousand maids among.

I love thee—I love thee!
Thy bright hazel glance,
The mellow lute upon those lips,
Whose tender tones entrance;
But most, dear heart of hearts, thy proofs
That still these words enhance,
I love thee—I love thee!
Whatever be thy chance.

- Thomas Hood

Poem Of the Day - The Presence of Love - Samuel Taylor Coleridge

And in Life's noisiest hour,
There whispers still the ceaseless Love of Thee,
The heart's Self-solace and soliloquy.

You mould my Hopes, you fashion me within;
And to the leading Love-throb in the Heart
Through all my Being, through my pulse's beat;
You lie in all my many Thoughts, like Light,
Like the fair light of Dawn, or summer Eve
On rippling Stream, or cloud-reflecting Lake.

And looking to the Heaven, that bends above you,
How oft! I bless the Lot that made me love you.

- Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Poem of The Day - In the Old Days a poet once said - Ko Un

In the old days a poet once said
our nation is destroyed
yet the mountains and rivers survive.

Today's poet says
the mountains and rivers are destroyed
yet our nation survives.

Tomorrow's poet will say
the mountains and rivers are destroyed
our nation is destroyed and Alas!
you and I are completely destroyed.

- Ko Un

Poem of The Day - A Bruised Reed Shall He Not Break - Christina Rossetti

I will accept thy will to do and be,
Thy hatred and intolerance of sin,
Thy will at least to love, that burns within
And thirsteth after Me:
So will I render fruitful, blessing still,
The germs and small beginnings in thy heart,
Because thy will cleaves to the better part.—
Alas, I cannot will.

Dost not thou will, poor soul? Yet I receive
The inner unseen longings of the soul,
I guide them turning towards Me; I control
And charm hearts till they grieve:
If thou desire, it yet shall come to pass,
Though thou but wish indeed to choose My love;
For I have power in earth and heaven above.—
I cannot wish, alas!

What, neither choose nor wish to choose? and yet
I still must strive to win thee and constrain:
For thee I hung upon the cross in pain,
How then can I forget?
If thou as yet dost neither love, nor hate,
Nor choose, nor wish,—resign thyself, be still
Till I infuse love, hatred, longing will.—
I do not deprecate.

- Christina Rossetti

Poem of The Day - A Dream Within A Dream - Edgar Allan Poe

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow:
You are not wrong who deem
That my days have been a dream;

Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand--
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep--while I weep!

O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
On from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

- Edgar Allan Poe

Poem of The Day - Abou Ben Adhem - Leigh Hunt

Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And saw, within the moonlight of his room,
Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,
An angel writing in a book of gold:-

Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,
And to the presence in the room he said,
'What writest thou?' - The vision raised its head,
And with a look made of all sweet accord,
Answered 'The names of those who love the Lord.'

'And is mine one?' said Abou. 'Nay, not so,'
Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low,
But cheerly still; and said 'I pray thee then,
Write me as one that loves his fellow-men.'

The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night
It came again with a great wakening light,
And showed the names who love of God had blessed,
And lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest.

- Leigh Hunt

Poem of The Day - All The World's A Stage - William Shakespeare

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.

Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts

Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

- William Shakespeare

Poem of the Day - Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night - Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

- Dylan Thomas

Poem of The Day - A Farewell - Lord Tennyson

Flow down, cold rivulet, to the sea,
Thy tribute wave deliver:
No more by thee my steps shall be,
For ever and for ever.

Flow, softly flow, by lawn and lea,
A rivulet then a river:
Nowhere by thee my steps shall be
For ever and for ever.

But here will sigh thine alder tree
And here thine aspen shiver;
And here by thee will hum the bee,
For ever and for ever.

A thousand suns will stream on thee,
A thousand moons will quiver;
But not by thee my steps shall be,
For ever and for ever.

- Alfred Tennyson, 1st Baron Tennyson

Dedicated to the memory of Kurt Vonnegut for all the great moments he gave his readers.

Poem of The Day - Oh, My Love is Like a Red, Red Rose - Robert Burns

O my love is like a red, red rose

That's newly sprung in June;

My love like the melody

That's sweetly played in tune.

As fair art thou, my bonny lass,

So deep in love am I;

And I will love thee still, my dear,

Till a' the seas gang dry.

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,

And the rocks melt with the sun;

I will love thee still, my dear,

While the sands o' life shall run.

And fare thee well, my only love!

And fare thee well, awhile!

And I will come again, my love

Though it were ten thousand mile.

- Robert Burns

Poem Of The Day - A Garden - Andrew Marvell

See how the flowers, as at parade,
Under their colours stand displayed:
Each regiment in order grows,
That of the tulip, pink, and rose.
But when the vigilant patrol
Of stars walks round about the pole,
Their leaves, that to the stalks are curled,
Seem to their staves the ensigns furled.

Then in some flower's beloved hut
Each bee, as sentinel, is shut,
And sleeps so too; but if once stirred,
She runs you through, nor asks the word.

O thou, that dear and happy Isle,
The garden of the world erewhile,
Thou Paradise of the four seas
Which Heaven planted us to please,
But, to exclude the world, did guard
With watery if not flaming sword;
What luckless apple did we taste
To make us mortal and thee waste!

Unhappy! shall we never more
That sweet militia restore,
When gardens only had their towers,
And all the garrisons were flowers;
When roses only arms might bear,
And men did rosy garlands wear?

- Andrew Marvell

Poem Of The Day - Now Sleeps The Crimson Petal - Lord Tennyson

Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white;
Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk;
Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font:
The fire-fly wakens: waken thou with me.

Now droops the milk white peacock like a ghost,
And like a ghost she glimmers on to me.

Now lies the Earth all Danaë to the stars,
And all thy heart lies open unto me.

Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves
A shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me.

Now folds the lily all her sweetness up,
And slips into the bosom of the lake:
So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip
Into my bosom and be lost in me.

- Alfred Tennyson, 1st Baron Tennyson