The Scribbles of a Lonely Traveller

[angliholic]

My darling
I'm picking small wild flowers in my garden
in the plum rain season
to make a spring wreath for you

If it fails to please you
please forgive me
for I'm not a man with gold or money

[angliholic]

Do you still remember
when I was still a young breeze in April
your heart was messed up
as the tender leaves on a shrub

You said with a deep sigh
you were too timidly shy
to dream beyond the blue mountain
where there could be no fountain

Only after
my passionate summer
has passed you're starting
to put on the most gorgeous clothing
the day
my prime has drifted far away
with the spring

[angliholic]

One rainy afternoon
you showered me with many a fanciful balloon

Like raindrops one after another
your tenderness kept falling on the pond of my heart
forming multitudinous ripples
ever expanding your charming dimples
along with my blissfulness

But all of a sudden I felt totally helpless
for the rain stopped abruptly
and ruthlessly

[angliholic]

Not until I turned off the light inside
before hitting the pillow
did I notice the moonlight
shining through my humble window

[angliholic]

With no summer rain
I reckon I'm still able to remain
as cool as a cucumber
in the long scorching hot weather

With no sunflower
I guess I can manage to survive
the long gloomy winter

Yet without your smile
on this journey
life will become a long lonely trial
without mercy

[angliholic]

Azaleas are blooming here and there
on the hill
though I can still
feel the early spring chill

I'd like to pick a pure white one for you
to put it in your hair
as you're the most special
but where are you

I shouldn't have missed you
so much in the first place
for I know you're nothing but my echo

Though I'm not Narcissus
I'm wasting away for the same reflection
still the same

[angliholic]

It sure is a win-win policy
for us to publish our books of poetry

If they sell well
then we'll roll in the dough

What if business is slow
Well we might as well
give them away to people who can't sleep well

[angliholic]

We devour dainty delicacies
and invariably turn them into stinky messes

Nevertheless
even a tiny blue bell can transform our waste
into a fragrant garden of good taste

Are we really the noblest of all creatures
or are we just vultures

[angliholic]

If this is the last picture I paint
it's not a wedding bouquet but the faint
blush on your cheek
like lovely afterglow reflecting on a creek

If this is the last poem I write
it sure is about your bright
smile that's as pure
as driven snow I'm pretty sure

If there's something I want to say to you
it's not how much I love you
on Monday morning gloomy and blue
but how are you

[angliholic]

In the shade of subtropical trees
on the school playground
from dawn to dusk
for many a summer
a silent boy used to fly a kite

He didn't have the slightest idea
why he loved watching the kite flying far and high
why those cicadas kept humming lonely tunes

Maybe he knows why now
for he has turned into a kite flying far and high
and he knows the thin string
tied to his soul may break any minute now

Maybe he'll fly into Vincent's starry night
and shine there one night
Maybe he'll simply fall into the Bermuda Triangle

Maybe he couldn't care less
as long as he enjoys his flying now

[angliholic]

Everything just doesn't go your way
for it's not your day

Why not dress up like a scarecrow
if you feel deep sorrow

Like a ragged man in ragged clothes
run to a most remote place only God knows
take it easy
and let it be

[angliholic]

Once an ocean of orange delight
now the blossom is all but out of sight
and the cheerful season is over
leaving behind a mountain of remorse for the ineffable clover

Though admirers have all gone
yet the story of life must keep dragging on

[angliholic]

You often sway alone in the wind
like a quiet dandelion
dancing gracefully at a small yard
forgotten by the world

And I
I'm constantly tumbling on many a strange road
like a tumbleweed moving on and on
and I've forgotten the world

In the season of Zephyr
we're ready to hit the road again
but where's our future shelter

Maybe we'll settle down in the same pasture
Maybe not

Let us pray
fate in the long run will bring us together

[angliholic]

You don't have to give me a bunch of roses
when I'm leaving, young sis
for they'll turn out a pile of remorse
when tomorrow comes

Just give me a smile
a breeze which keeps me going mile after mile
And I'll treasure it in my memory
for many a century

[angliholic]

I wrote a poem last night when sleeping
yet in the morning
I could only vaguely recall

April stayed all the while with us in a fantasy world
after we shook off our weather-beaten bodies
our spirits soaring and navigating through the stars
and settled down on a fairy planet
where souls never feel hungry
and never kill to live

Where we'll remain forever young and pure
for we have no Pandora's box there