The Scribbles of a Lonely Traveller

[angliholic]

Enjoyed the delicate images and wisdom of this poem.

Thanks, Danik, for dropping by and leaving the kind feedback.

[angliholic]

I drop a yellow rose into a pond,
with a view to gazing admiringly
and affectionately
at those concentric ripples,
ever spreading out
toward the eternal enigma.
If you can sense the warm sunny glow
of these golden petals
at the edge of the universe,
then you're a true friend of mine.

[tailor STATELY]

:)
...

[angliholic]

:)
...

Thanks, Tailor, for dropping by.

[angliholic]

I'm amazed to notice
the okra,
a lass in green trimmings,
having stayed calm and serene in my balcony
for a long while,
starts blossoming this morning
at long last.
Without fail,
the season of silver grass
is as good as the season of melancholy
for me.
Just when my heart's in a fret,
like the surface of a clear pond
messed up by an autumn breeze;
just when I feel like crying,
to my delight,
a couple of small yellow flowers,
should brighten up the gloomy sky above me
in no time.

[angliholic]

Breezes are holding their breath,
trees falling into a coma,
and the sunshine just lying gently.
It's so quiet
in the afternoon
that time seems to stand still.
In the distance,
I can see
the little hands of rice plants
struggling to hold up golden grains
in the autumn field.

[tailor STATELY]

:)
...

[angliholic]

When autumn is also drunk
with the sweet golden wine
of the setting sun,
and lies down
under the flame maple trees,
a smirking wind nearby,
witnessing all this,
starts blowing,
swirling
a wood of falling leaves
into a shower
of flying colorful confetti.
I wonder
whether it's time for me
to harvest the fruit of life
or regret.

[Danik 2016]

Enjoyed!

[angliholic]

Sitting in the shade
of a great banyan tree,
counting the good old days
sneaking away
one by one
just as the good autumn breezes
come and go,
I'm not pondering
how to be immortal or something.
What's the meaning of living endlessly
anyway
if one can't remain evergreen as a mountain?
Not far away,
I catch sight of a little yellow flower
of a dandelion
with a couple of butterflies
still dancing around.
Why should I worry
one day
it'll turn itself into a dandelion clock
and float away with the wind
any second
as long as the memory of beauty
lingers on
in the eyes of beholder?

[angliholic]

Enjoyed!

Thanks, Danik, for dropping by. I almost overlooked this post of yours.

[angliholic]

Don't make fun of me
if you see
that I have this sudden fancy
to grow the water lily
in the late September
when in the pond
the water's getting as cool as a cucumber.
Nonetheless,
if I will get a chance,
in July of next year,
to meditate on a purple beauty
which should emerge
from a world of muddy filthy soils,
I couldn't care less
if it means my last summer.

[angliholic]

After the moon cake savoring,
after Mid-Autumn Festival celebrating,
there's nothing fancy
but the full moon's waning.
Since nothing
is worth brewing mesmerizing poetry,
I might as well hit the hay.
Some people say,
there's free ice cream
in your dream,
but most men prefer tender luscious abalone
as I dream,
especially when hungry
yet can't afford to pay the money.

[angliholic]

When breezes in late September
begin coughing
I feel like an ancient river
so much so
that it's time to get flowing,
flowing far away to an uncharted place
where to keep meandering
and embrace
a serene green meadow.
You know,
if you're happy
I'll pluck you a yellow daylily.
And if you don't laugh out loud,
I'll pen a free verse or two
on a white cloud.
Please don't shed a dew or two
because unfettered is my imagination,
running wild like thick vegetation.

[angliholic]

If catching the tail of summer
is as subtle
as catching a floating rainbow bubble
in sweet slumber,
then let nature run its course
and never feel remorse.
Nonetheless,
while weeping willows
are losing leaves like widows
shedding tears in late September,
I'm not sure whether
I should close that window,
or simply forget about tomorrow.

[tailor STATELY]

Wonderful poems... "If catching the tail of summer
is as subtle
as catching a floating rainbow bubble
in sweet slumber," kindled my imagination :)

Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor

[angliholic]

Wonderful poems... "If catching the tail of summer
is as subtle
as catching a floating rainbow bubble
in sweet slumber," kindled my imagination :)

Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor

Thanks, Tailor, for the kind comment.

[angliholic]

Isn't it refreshing
to stare at a leaf budding
in the season of seeding?
Why must it turn to a rusty leaf,
come the season of grief?
I have this sudden impulse
to go to a pond of water lilies
not to appreciate
but to wait
until all good breezes
terminate
so as to watch my clear reflection
mirrored in still water,
instead of the distortion
in the rippling water.

[tailor STATELY]

Wonderful imagery and quite reflective. Enjoyed your use of rhyme :)

Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor

[angliholic]

Wonderful imagery and quite reflective. Enjoyed your use of rhyme :)

Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor

Thanks, Tailor, for your kind comment.

[angliholic]

Since
I'm just a small blade of grass,
I humbly pray
if only there's a dewdrop
caressing my face
when I wake up in the early morning
every day.
I'm not a sea otter,
therefore,
a lavish ocean of water
won't save me from drowning
but lead me to sighing
one day.