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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.