"Life is like an icecream"

Someone's wise words are these -
and i do quite agree:
that "life is like an icecream" -
for it melts so easily
one cannot afford to tarry -
so enjoy it while you can!

For the years pass so quickly -
and in just the blink of an eye:
we are all closer to sixty
when it was only like yesterday
that we were just one day
more than forty,
and then not one day
more than fifty!

So, i'll wait no more
but to do whatever i have to do
for time and tide waits for no one
to be at sixes and sevens
so one has to move on
and live at the eights...
so that i'll regret nought
when it's time,
from this world,
to finally depart...

"A friend is someone who thinks you are a good egg"

Friends i have quite many
but only a few i would keep:
friends who know me as i am,
for what i am,
and how good or bad i am -
and still care...

For i know, I've not always been good,
neither have i been entirely bad -
for sometimes i've done as i should,
while at other times, i refused totally
to listen, when told what i should do
and what not do...

For it's times like these
that i feel i'm right
in wanting to do
what i feel is right;
it's times like these
that i stood my ground,
put on my war paint -
and showed my fangs,
or stomped the ground -
to face the odds,
to declare a world war!

And it's times like these
that i needed a friend -
to tell me i'm right,
to do what is right;
to right a wrong,
with feelings strong;
with the mightiest prong:
with words that express
my feelings strong:
the need to right a wrong...

So, dear friend:
be my friend -
give me support,
and all the help
that you can...
so i won't regret
to say: wait for me
for i'll join you down there -
where your ship had sunk, there...
when my job here
is done, i'll gladly declare -
see you down there...

Will you remember me

Do you remember me still -
when you watch a beautiful sunrise,
on the beach, or from your balcony,
on a picnic, or a field trip, or lawn,
riding the waves, or driving home -
would you, for a moment,
remember me still -
i wonder...?

This morning, while i was thinking,
a pretty butterfly dropped by...
to give comfort, to be close by
to listen to my heart beat
and my sighs...
to feel my loneliness -
as i recall the times gone by...
or to tell me not to cry?
and to sing those familiar lines:
"When i'm feeling blue,
all i have to do -
is to take a look at you..."

And i wonder -
when we are both old
when i'm knitting in my garden
and you are dozing before the TV -
will you remember me still
as much as i remember you...?

"The Colours of the Wind"

Now, as i approach my golden years
that part of life where i have the last lap
to dash - and perhaps be able to clutch
at that last jewel, coveted by all:
sparkling, shimmering, alluring...
with a myriad of bewitching starlight -
to add to my collection of great memories
before i have to sit quietly
in my garden to sift through them all:
to recall, to contemplate;
to analyse, to digest;
all the little jewels in life
that i'd come by, and collected,
all these lovely years...

It's that time of life
when one can truly savour
every sunrise, every sunset,
to the last speck of colour,
to the minutest detail,
in slow motion, so as to miss nought
the colours of the rainbow,
'the colours of the wind'...

"Tomorrow's Memories"

Yes, i'm making "tomorrow's memories"
and collecting them all today
to lay neatly in my treasure chest
for tomorrow's pleasure,
when today has gone by -
as i sip my mug of coffee
and watch my rose buds bloom,
and even when the clouds are gloomy
i'll feel this joy in my bossom
as i think of you...

"The Singer not the Song"

When i hear a lonely voice
singing my favourite songs -
breaking the silence of the night
i'll be wondering who the singer is
is he in some place warm and nice
or is there sadness in his eyes...

But now it has dawned on me
that it is not the song
that i long to hear
but the singer behind the song
and the feeling that love is near
gives comfort to what i hear...

Angels do cry, too

Once in a while angels come by
just to cry,
and to reason why:
they say they did try,
but it just didn't work -
and they want to know why...

I have to reason why
and provide a reason, why?
for when some angels have given things a try
should they be asked to give it yet another try?
and if, in doing it, they have to again cry -
do i still make them give it yet another try?

I've always fought for justice, and fairness to all -
so it makes me very angry, when an angel is forced to cry!
and if for no good reason, nor fairness, nor logic
then it really makes my blood boil!
and i'll not rest my case - till justice is done,
i'll go on championing their rights -
till the storm blows over,
and everything is so calm, all over...

The Missing Half

I know we are different - right from the start:
i love poetry - you say that it's much too mushy,
i love to be in the sun - you shy away: much too hot, you say...
i love the sea, such a lovely blue - you ask,'What's there to see?'
i love long walks on the beach - you prefer hilltops, places that are cold...
i love to capture each sunrise - you say it's the best time to rest,
and to curl up in bed - no sunrise, no photos: just rest;
i love the outdoor: camping, outings, and driving around the countryside -
you'ld say: don't feed the mosquitoes; done that; and petrol costs money!
i want to do everything now - as though there is no tomorrow,
you'ld say: what's the hurry - there's always another day, another tomorrow!
i've always been a dreamer - you're always the realist,
i've always been the giver - you take, but would only sparingly give;
i want to go that extra mile: for the less fortunate who come my way -
you say: then, be a social worker and give everything away!

It looks like we've both come from two very different worlds:
that's why we differ so much in the way we both act, and think;
and it looks like we'll never agree on anything at all
just because we were brought up differently, that's all...
'i have to be me, and you have to be you
only then can we be us;'
for so long as you refuse to accept that:
we'll go on arguing and fighting - that's a fact!
but so long as you can accept that we have to be different
then you can have your hilltop, and i'll have my bay...

'Which couple does not fight?' mum would say,
so you must be that missing half:
to balance things up -
whenever i act impossible,
and straighten things a little-
whenever i tilt the scale;
to be the line that holds me back to earth -
whenever i soar too high,
the missing half that i need -
to make me whole again...?!

(So i'm the one who should be feeling thankful -
to be the one you had chosen, the one most blessed...?)

Remembering you, when feeling blue

I'll remember you
whenever i feel blue -
i'll remember nobody else but you,
for all the nice things that you do...

For when i'm vexed or blue
it's a joy to remember you -
'coz by remembering you
i'll be remembering all the appreciative smiles,
and encouraging words of wisdom, more than just a few
to make life seem so sweet and so wonderful,
and once again, my friend,
adieu...

Finding Another Little House on the Prairie

I've found another little house on the prairie -
though surprisingly, where i don't see the deep blue sea,
nor do i hear the sound of the waves, hitting the beach,
no white sails, bobbing on the horizon, do i see -
no soft breeze rustling through the leaves, the trees,
nor monsoon winds to bend the branches, the trunks of the trees...
no casuarinas to line my path, no coco palm trees,
nor lonely footprints in the fine golden sand...

I've admired the beauty of a sunrise through the mist -
and how lovely the green hills stand, amidst the clouds
i've heard happy little birds, singing in the trees,
and seen the branches sway in a different kind of breeze...
i've complained: no deep blue sea, no golden sand in my midst
and realised in my heart and in my mind they do exist,
so no matter where i go, what i've missed:
none is lacking, none missing,
coz they're always there:
always, in my heart and mind, do exist...

Three pairs of eyes, three hearts and three all

So young and yet so selfless,
you are, indeed, my pride and my joy:
to pledge your eyes, your heart, your all
at the tender age of twenty-three -
when one is so young,
and life is so sweet,
not many episodes to your credit,
nor many experiences experienced, indeed...

Yet you found it in your little young heart
(like me, when i was thirty-three),
a selfless pledge i'd made, myself to give:
'My eyes, my heart, my all'
i'd pledged to give -
'rather than that they should feed the worms'-
that someone might see the sunrise, feel the dew drops
or might a little longer live...

But the greatest pride and joy was when you asked,
"We have both pledged, so what about you?"
to which the reply was:
"Since both of you had done it, why not?"
and coming from the one who has always preached
that 'charity begins at home',
at one year short of sixty-three,
is a double joy, a double triumph, indeed!

So now we have three to give:
three pairs of eyes ...
three hearts ...
our selves, to give ...

One Day at a Time?

Yes,I've been doing that all the time -
but more so lately ...
i've been counting the days to the day i retire,
all this while
but now, as the days draw nearer
i'm counting the hours,
to stretch things a bit longer,
to make memories grow longer,
to enjoy every moment of each day, slowly ...

i'll not even let an hour slip by
without doing something note-worthy and praise-worthy
i'll not let any day pass by
without maximising every minute of every hour
and i know what all this signify:
that when it finally dawned on me
that i have to leave behind
all that i'm so used to doing ...
i didn't want to let go
of all the familiar faces
i've grown to love so well
faces of strangers who have become great friends
i've grown to enjoy
all those little angels
that God sent my way ...
all the eager, innocent little impish smiles
that made me laugh
and make my heart swell with love
when they queue up to salam,
and when they kissed my hand ...

i know i will be missing them all
on that day when i step out of the school gates
and wave goodbye
for the last time ...