DERN MIRTH

Every morning, you are the first thing that

I impregnate as soon as I wake up.

Even if I try to cease or combat,

Only in worse defeat I end up.

Your memories are like a whirlpool

That drown me in;

I am insane and fool

Who still cares for you inane.

I resist speculating your image;

And I finally turn out with tears.

"I will be with you forever," was your gage;

You denied, but I am still there for you, I swear.

I just keep on awaiting for the day

When we can be together as before.

I do not persuade you to stay;

But I will be there for you forever and ever.

FOXES, BEWARE!

The world was still,
Calm, serene and tranquil ;
It was full of bliss,
Delight, cheer and solace.
Then entered the fox,
Reciting to all, 'mox nix!'
But beneath the word,
Laid a dodgy sword.
'I love you,' he said,
To destruction it led.
The words of compassion
Were actually deathly potion.
He ruined them all
Who were naive with zeal.
But the ones wise,
Eluded from the artifice.
The absurd men
Tasted woe and bane.
Beware of the vile sly!
'I am there for you,' he implies.
Beware of the traps that seduce,
Lying behind his fake embrace.
Not everyone with you is true;
The phony fox will slay you.
Not everyone is reliable;
Look out for the guileful.
Be shrewd as the serpent
That lies underneath the orchid.
For there are mages,
With fury and rage
To pull you down;
So be wise, witty and lown.
Be sane and sensible,
Sagacious, sharp and insightful.
Beware of the fox!
Beshield yourself from the battle-axe!  

THE WINTER CHERRIES

I am confused how to sing praises,
When my life is in utter chaos.
I wander around the pasture
To find solution to my emotional pressure.
There is something that draws
All my attention, as I pass.
A foliage with long pine leaves,
Besides the frost they heave;
Their branches laden with snow.
Beneath the branches lying low,
A bunch of berries ling to the twig;
Dancing to the rhythm of the wind, they lig.
'The Winter Cherries' - I call them.
They remind me of decay, old age and cem.
But the burdened cherries hope for summer,
That brings joy, felicity and cheer.
For there are ups and downs,
So we will know about chaos and lown.
There are summer and winter,
To teach us pleasure and displeasure.
There are black and white,
To tell us wrong and right.
For we will never know of felicity,
Without being through misery.
The hue and blue will flee;
They will be replaced by mirth and glee.
Now I realize that sorrow will depart
Leaving behind merry and delight.

When I read Psalms 34, I doubted how David  sang praise when his life was a mess. So I just wrote it comparing winter to deterioration.