Old man willow 1

Even old willows have learnt to smile,
A first will always come.
Even old gnarled ones forego pain,
For end will always come.

Old willow heard a story,
And he thought of a smile,
In another's dream
He lived for a while.

Old willow down the lane,
Learnt he was in another's story,
Quietly he retraced his steps,
And he brought back his quarry.

Old man willow sat alone then,
The stream still went by,
Old man willow made a sound,
And jumped for he heard the ground.

Old man willow had none around,
But an acorn on the ground.
By little the acorn grew,
And old man heard its sound.

Old man willow was never free,
Old man willow had none around,
But for an acorn that stole his heart,
And he listens to the ground.

Old man willow knows not this tale,
Old man has seen many a gale,
But old man has but an acorn,
Old man willow has found his grail.

A trick too short

Inevitability is the price of mortality,
For our sense of time be short.
What is pegged at a never to be,
Might just be a trick too short.
This life is mine and my dreams
Are mine to make and live.
These ways are mine and you
Are mine to let you believe!
Go as far as you could,
The distance is just a trick,
For when you feel of space,
There will be none.
Tricks abound in our life,
For what we are made is one.
Never  in solitude
Will the trickster win of us,
For though you may not see,
I will always stand behind you.
A lot of world to see,
A lot to meet,
And though you will see not me,
I will always be around.

And

And is a word,
Of limitless possibilities,
For there be many ways
And a lot to add.
Today I stop at and,
For I cannot see into the fore,
Into a tomorrow that scares.
Some part stays as is wont,
A part forays to the front.
A part that asks me some,
Then again pulls me within,
Nothing more can be said,
And be all is left unseen.
Let what is left be silence
For some things remain so,
What truth may not be said,
And I will let it be so.

Allegory

When a story be told,
Of them it be born
Will never be bold.
The feelings be buried,
In nuances deep within,
And allegory be born,
For love is torn within.
For them that but see,
Is a wonder born free,
To talk with glee.

Lullaby

Croon me a lullaby,
Hold me tight.
Help me sleep,
Dream nightmares no more.
Long be a night,
Longer yet in repose,
Sadder be my Nightingale,
Ennui in this prose.
Sing me a lullaby,
Though your voice be hoarse,
Harsher are times for you,
But you need sing me my prose.

Shadows of a night

Shadows have a dance of their own.
As lights come and lights go,
Longer this road and a time be slow,
They dance ahead once,
The sing and bow,
Left behind as the lights forego.
Stand by me and wrap me close,
Like a shadowy night wrapped in prose.