For Granted

What once elicited

Many a happy warble,

Now barely lifts a smile.

Small little things that

Made a sweet difference,

Presently dig a grave divide.

The same few words

Spoken in diverse tones,

Chronicle a distance, wide.

A long time ago, so precious,

No anymore, not even close.

Sensitively termed ‘Forgotten’.

Why make loss your teacher?

Don’t wait to appreciate

What’s been a support throughout.

Step away from that curb,

Look again, smile, re-value;

Take nothing for granted.

Random ditty

Each day I wake up with a smile

The day is mine, the day is mine!

A fresh, new start, on a brand-new path,

The sun doth shine, the sun doth shine!

Strong winds beckon, stirring up dreams,

I can fly, I can fly!

Little ditties come to mind,
let us write, let us write!

The Looking Glass

She stood up and took stock,

Of the world as it were

And those that took notes.

Hers was not to ponder why

Nor to dwell on with sallow eyes.

Hers was to wonder, question,

Act on and stride on, right!

Find a goal and keep it in sight.

Draw up your connector lines,

Leave no ends untied.

Forgive the ignorant,

Liberate the past,

A platform rooted in experience

Is all you need here on.

Keep the back door open

For Change visits every now and then.

Take the suggestions as they come,

Implement only the sensible ones.

This is your life, make it!

Don’t let go, don’t break it.

Cry

Sometimes you have to cry
To let out the hurt welling up inside
Shed a few tears to ease the load
Knowing in faith, the pain will never go

Change is constant, the only ever-lasting
Sweeping in it's path, every memory,
Lambasted, twisted, turned on it's head,
Returned with no more than a sigh.

Hold steady in these daring winds,
Chin up, arms tucked,head held high
Only YOU can envision YOU through
the mad chaotic ensemble termed Life

The Peacock and her mirrors

Fanned out like a peacock
She coo-ed and preened
As though gazing at a mirror
She bedecked her gown sequinned.

Enrapt, her mirrors shone back
They eyes alert just for a byte.
Hanging on to every move
As though they'd miss a strain.

Taking her own sweet time,
"Drummer, guitarist, check!
The mic's jarring, bring another
Before I loose my bearings"

The mirror are restless, roving
And flashing some impatience.
A chant starts up, she hears,
"We want this to begin!"

With a laugh on her lips,
A scarred smirk in her eyes,
Like trapped canary,
She begins to sing...