WoRld Of DrEaMs

Imagination flies in the air
Blown by the wind of dreams
Hopping from one beautiful place
Disembarking to a magical soil

Traversing in the space of hope
Aiming to find the treasure
That at the end of the rainbow
A pot of gold will be uncovered

Triumphantly defeated the foes
As the beautiful princess waits
And the people are rejoicing
Celebrating the victory been achieved

Come into the world of dreams
Where everything is possible
Wherein you are the protagonist
And nothing attained but victory

Come into the world of dreams
Wherein you are the millionaire
The famous philanthropist
The Don Quixote of your generation

Take pleasure of your imagination
Of the conscious and subliminal occurrence
Of the world within the imaginary world
A spice of strength in the world of bleakness

April and the Daffodils

In April, comes the season of spring

In some places . . . but I don’t have

Heat, sweat . . . and the beaches ring

The humid air my nostrils grab

It’s summertime! That’s what I know

The flowers bloom, the birds bop

No spring that wipes out the snow

The water tempts, it’s time to hop

The daffodils are now in bloom

It’s now in flourish so they say

It grows up not in my home

How would I know, I haven’t see

Should I care about the daffodils?

How does it look like, would it matter?

I look forward to have some thrills

A jaunt or an egg hunt on Easter

Do you have the same reflection?

Of it doesn't matter or I don’t care

Nature is in my imagination

Is it enough, or to care would be better?

I Stand Alone

I stand alone… alone at the side

In a deep thought and heavy sigh

Muted against all sounds

Lest be asked then words untied

I stand alone while the crowds settled

Against the current, I strive

While others have loudly cried

I stand alone without a sound

Your howls I hear but least understand

Can’t see the place of where you stand

Yesterday you’re at the corner

Today you’re at the other side

Forgive me but I won’t cry

A bawler’s life is not my style

I’d rather stay as a muted ant

And bite when ran aground

Your place is not what I stand

Your goal may not be what I want

But when it is for all and sundry

I’ll stand with you and die