Poem – Love is so Very Special 

Love is so very special

Yet can make you feel so lost

It can arrive just like the springtime

And melt away like morning frost
You must find ways to nurture

Always grow your love with care

Never ever take for granted

The love that you both share
Mistakes are bound to happen

You may hurt each other’s heart

Yet don’t give up to easily

It will tear your love apart
Love resembles a bright flame

That lights a dark starry night

Never ever let this flame burn down

Rekindle with all your might
Take a moment every day

Look deep into each other’s eyes

Never hesitate to show affection

Small gestures will keep a love alive
Talk openly about your feelings

Take time to show that you care

Treasure each and every moment

Because to find true love is rare 

Poem – Soul of the Age

‘Art’ flies, and ‘Form’ in exile mourns.

i sing to the critics (beg their awful silence and inquires to craft ‘sublime’ and fill that vacant space) 

that: 

body of poesy has changed various forms: 

And so its norms, 

i pray to the heaven: 

to inspire my words with gentle heat; 

that could turns the muses

to dance.

I (the poet) 

speak only truth

and avoid ridiculous ‘rant’

but this Art is now

‘a slower way being dead’

By poorly phrasing

such unheard rhymes

that batters and mocks

soul of the age, 

and bless nothing but rage.

…………….. 

Poem – A Once Proud Man Sits Silently

This withered man

 I slowly feed, 

once held the spoon for me. 

What once were strong – 

two working hands – 

now stiff and idle tools. 
The empty eyes, 

where pride once shined 

a shade to shame the sea, 

were waned of light 

a year ago – 

now flameless, shallow pools. 
I spill some soup 

upon the knee 

where bouncing kids once played. 

It’s sad to think 

the spring within – 

has no more rides to grant. 
The lifeless lips, 

where smiles once grew – 

a silent, barren glade. 

I only wish 

he’d speak to me. 

Regretfully…he can’t. 
This once great man sits silently, 

in Winters bitter glaze. 

The tables turned; our roles reversed – 

These cruel and final days.