Seeing
a curling wisp of smoke,
so elusive and ethereal,
wafting
elegantly in the air,
should I or my wordy poetry
go on a diet?
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Seeing
a curling wisp of smoke,
so elusive and ethereal,
wafting
elegantly in the air,
should I or my wordy poetry
go on a diet?
You're such a nuisance,
not because you suck my blood
when there isn't any flower bud,
but because you remind me of my first love
in fancy dress.
I really don't mind
she stole my heart,
but can't forget
those numerous sleepless nights
you and she leave for me.
If worrying
might prevent a delightful alpine gold
from getting old,
or stop your love from fading away,
or protect your silky tresses from turning gray,
then keep worrying.
It was a pity
that I didn't get the hang
of making peace
in a pond full of geese.
It didn't dawn on me
that I was genuinely
a silly goose
until I woke up to the truth
that I failed to dance gracefully
like a swan.
Laboring under the illusion
that I was an elegant swan,
I eventually
cooked my own goose
and paid a heavy price.
Nonsense Angli. It’s all subjective. You write over and over with no response and never prevents you or discourages your next post. You are heroic. I have the utmost respect for you.Quote:
Originally Posted by angliholic
Thanks, Jerrybaldy, for the generous words, which are really encouraging, but as I mentioned earlier, the main purpose I penned in English is to practice and use English as often as possible. Secondly, I'm more than thankful for this place to save all of my pieces without paying any rent.Quote:
Originally Posted by Jerrybaldy
You once said that
you were a rusty wind bell
waiting for a breeze
to produce a melodious tinkling.
Though I never judged a book by its cover,
yet, at first sight,
your old clothing really dispelled me.
Not until I read your story,
did I see that
you saved most of your earning
to help those in need.
To protect the poor and the weak,
you're never daunted
when confronted with monstrous bullies
in spite of the fact that
you're not stronger
than the poor and the weak themselves.
Yellow bells have always
mesmerized me
whenever I run across one,
but now I think otherwise~
you're the most enthralling bell of all
whether rusty or not.
"bathed in gracious sunshine" Excellent. I also like the sentiments expressed. (post #994 that is)
Another good one.Quote:
Originally Posted by angliholic
Thanks, prendrelemick, for dropping by and the kind comments. Much appreciated.
Reminiscing
we were once like Persian daisies
swaying in an early spring field,
so colorful and intoxicating
that the graceful butterflies
and the busy bees came every day
to steal our sweet nectar.
Anyhow,
carefree as the wandering white clouds
in the blue sky,
we didn't mind at all.
After the season of flower showering,
like fledgling white doves,
we flew high and far toward the heavens
to seek our own separate blissful home.
In the blink of an eye,
we have come to the autumn of life.
Though slanting rays of the setting sun
between falling leaves
are extremely poetic and enthralling,
there're no more rose petals
on our cheeks,
and white snow flakes
are stealthily falling on our hair,
once so black and silky.
Nonetheless,
we still own a heart of gold,
and still aspire to see each other again.
~~written before a high school reunion
懷念
懷念 我們曾經 恰似
初春大地上的 波斯菊
多彩多姿 而 令人著迷
以至於 翩翩飛舞的蝴蝶
及 忙碌的蜜蜂
每天都來偷採 青春甜美的花蜜
而 我們 一點也不在意
無憂無慮 恰似
藍天上 悠閒的雲朵
待 落英繽紛的季節之後
如 羽翼漸豐的飛鴿
我們飛向 天地四方 各自尋覓
未來幸福的歸處
轉眼之間
已至生命中 秋詩篇篇
夕陽無限好的黃昏
雖然 臉頰上 已沒了
紅玫瑰的花瓣
雖然 白雪已 悄悄地 飄上了
少年時的 烏黑秀髮
也不能阻礙 一顆熱誠的心
一個想要重聚的願
Wondering why spring
is late coming,
you feel lonely and melancholy
in February.
I won't say anything
but keep smiling
when presenting
you with a bunch of rosemary.
Supposing
our youth memory
is compared to a puzzle,
without you,
this dreamy scenery
is nothing but a riddle.
Yesterday
I presented you with a flower
but you preferred flour.
And today,
with a stroke of genius, you know,
you knead it into dough.
Come tomorrow
will you turn it into sweet love
or bitter sorrow?
Supposing our youth memory
is compared to a puzzle,
without you, this dreamy scenery
is nothing but a riddle.
When we were young
as spring
and rhododendrons were
in full bloom,
we ran across each other.
I naively supposed~
our brief encounter in this world
was the consequence
of our long separation
in the previous life.
Just as those pretty flowers
couldn't last forever,
so the moment swallows flew back,
our youth had flown away.
Just because we couldn't avoid
waving farewell,
we'd appreciate our reunion
more in next life.
:)
Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor STATELY
Thanks, Stately, for dropping by.Quote:
Originally Posted by tailor STATELY
Thanks, Stately, for dropping by.Quote:
Originally Posted by tailor STATELY
It's already mid February,
and maybe
spring is still late coming
at your place.
If it's still freezing
when you get up in the morning,
why not make yourself a cup of hot coffee
and read this poem of mine~
the former may keep you warm
whereas the latter
will surely
bring a smile to your face.
Please don't put me in jail
or even laugh at me
if I'm still writing romantic poetry
at the age of ninety.
First of all,
I will neither rob you of your lily,
nor will I steal your daisy.
Last but not least,
it's my personal belief~
romance will always keep me busy
as well as
oblivious of being doddery.
We won´t, dear Angliholik. We are very proud of your delicate, nostalgic poems.
Thanks, Danik, for the kind words. Have missed you for a long while.Quote:
Originally Posted by Danik 2016
I guess
you never dreamed that one day
you might lose your glory
and be as humble as the grass.
Likewise,
I never realized that one day
I might be
able to appreciate a faded poppy
until yesterday
when time transformed me
into an old dog from a puppy.
On the grounds that
it keeps raining cats and dogs
all day long
in this part of the world,
I feel so distraught that
I've forgotten what to say to you.
The only thing I can remember is,
in a few words,
"Life's simply an echo."
Therefore,
I have to let you go
although you're as beguiling
as a red poppy in spring
which I've always been longing for.
One day
when we live to the age
of an old oak tree,
and we still have courage
to stay on this stage,
I guess
all we need is not a wheelchair
or crutches
but a young heart.
My devotion to you is
like a candle
that burns itself every dark night
until there're no more tears
to shed
simply to light up your life.
Considering
my rose isn't willing to bloom
without her thorn,
to avoid being forlorn,
I might just as well cut off my horn,
and transform
myself into a vulnerable deer,
hoping
she might hug me dear
once in a blue moon.
If you're wondering
why I dress like a yellow jacket
this morning,
please give a glance
at the gloomy cloudy sky
and you'll see why.
I have no alternative
but to vary my clothing
to appear a bit cheerful
seeing that
I can't change the mournful
howling of the wind.
Thanks to the dog poop
you just stepped on,
you felt woeful and helpless
all the morning.
Please smile and be happy;
it's not because I'm going to give you
a bunch of white carnations
but because it's a long lane
that has no turning.
You said,
you adore me
for my being nimble and witty
as an eloquent brook.
On the contrary,
the reason
I love to be around you
is that you are always so willowy
and tranquil
as a weeping willow.
Who said that
the good old times,
in view of the small number,
are worth our treasuring?
I'm sorry, but I beg to differ.
Had it not been for you,
they'd simply be black and blue.
Thanks to you,
they're fragrant as thyme
and worth our reminiscing
for a lifetime.
Those words
you blurted out
in a careless way
were like a cold air mass
in the dead of winter.
I got blown farther away
in a serious manner
than you could guess.
.
Let's wait for a sunny day
and be my guest in May.
We can shoot the breeze
or blow our own horn
while savoring wine and cheese
as long as
we're careful enough not to shoot
ourselves in the foot.
If you're not an expert
in climbing a tree,
don't ever feel upset
because you're not a monkey.
I know
I'm not cut out for music
but I've never felt pathetic.
If, by chance,
there're a couple of people
who enjoy reading my poetry,
then I'm lucky
enough to be good at graffiti.
If not, at least,
I'm a big eater
as well as
a useful fertilizer maker.
Rhododendrons,
the harbinger of your spring,
are blooming
here and there
in a beautiful mess.
Seeing that
I'm nothing but
the early spring rain,
a wet blanket,
that's going
to ruin your good times
sooner than later,
I guess
I might as well
bid you adieu,
cap in hand,
and leave this verdant garden
with you and your spring.
Isn't it a great blessing
if you come to visit with me
on this cold rainy day
in early spring?
We'll drink hot tea
while chatting about the day
when we were young as a sapling.
I won't feel gloomy
if you're busy as a bee
and can't make it here.
It's not that
I don't appreciate your company
but that
I've long learned how to enjoy
my serenity on my own.
Angli, such wonderful writing! I have missed you so! Keep up the good work,
K♥zzo
Thanks, Kiz, for the encouraging words again. You seem very busy lately, don't you?Quote:
Originally Posted by kiz_paws
It seems to have been raining
so endlessly
that I can't recall precisely
the way a sunflower's smiling
and the day
when you were beaming
like a yellow daisy.
It seems to have been pouring
so eternally
that I have forgot how to dream
though I still pen a poem
or two when the sky is gray.