SOME SUMMER

SOME SUMMER

O! Sweet child of this summer fair
Come winters and you shall be lost in despair
For never one preaches that they follow
All knowledge is fake and wisdom hollow
Lest you know  the days from days
You wouldn't know what leaves, what stays
But when the test of time does teach
Sharps stab, it's hands, it does not preach.
Tick, and you walk on green green grass
Tock, and you've fallen flat, alas!
Sweet child, sweet, in your sweet sweet world
There is sweet love and a free free bird
But your imagination alone shall cage you
The stronger now, the more it shall enrage you
'Cause the ways of world, the blind men see.
Free men only fall. They cage birds free.
Some summer this summer of tranquil trance
A fairytale promising, of a moonlit dance.
-Mx

THE BROOK

Here is the story of a painting of a little brook that is hung by a plain wall, a metaphor for the monotony of life. This brook however, does not care about what the onlookers think of her. She has a rare gift-a gift of imagination, a gift of being able to dream! Her only concern is her dream for which she lives on day by day. The dream is her biggest strength but also her only weakness.
And thus she flows, day after day, day after day...

DREAM ON!

The brook

And again, today she flows
the brook unto her sea
a tiny stream within her tiny world
a tiny dream she sees.

The sky, again, is blue
Still yellow shines some sun.
some clouds varied still play,
amok in wind they run.

Yet so stuck the water flowing.
like time all new yet same.
and again, today she flows,
the brook in a picture frame.

Awaits no onlookers,
No frame golden or praise
If only someone kind
Would paint what she appraise.

Hung on a wall plain white,
she holds onto the same plain wall
and again, today she flows,
the brook afraid to fall.

And again, today she flows
the brook unto her sea
a tiny stream within her tiny world
a tiny dream she sees.

-Mx