Fettered dreams

Fettered dreams,
We have many,
And regret, not following any,
To follow them, the zest must one renew,
Passion for them, rekindle,
Do not one's own life swindle.

For these dreams that we silently ignore,
Are thoughts we did once cherish,
Ideals that were allowed to perish,
As we moved forwards in this journey of life.
These dreams were our aspirations true,
Follow them we must, lest they not get their due.

Only in following them will we find happiness true,
Only on realizing them will we in success's glory bask,
And only then can we proudly look back at the past,
At a life that's fulfilling and complete,
A life without regrets, one that's with joy replete.

A smile

A smile flutters across her lip,
For just a small while; a blip,
A brief memory of the past,
Of moments that don't often last,
A funny incident or two, long gone,
Mere memories that now make her feel forlorn.

A few silent tears do escape her eyes,
As she thinks of the state in which her life now lies,
Moments of fun, all but gone,
Moments of sorrow that she does silently mourn.

Comfort her he could, how he does wish,
Tell her if he could, how her smile, he does miss,
A smile that used to sparkle his day,
A smile that used to wipe his tears away.
A smile that make him feel ok.

A time comes when we all feel down,
Then is the time to discard the frown,
And smile a happy joyous smile,
A smile that others cherish a while,
A smile that often makes their day,
A smile that makes them feel ok.

A smile, that's all there is,
There ain't no more,
I promise you this,
A smile is all that's there to cherish,
In our life, before we perish,
So whenever you can, beam a smile,
You never know, whose life it does make worthwhile.

The Present's a present

The future is shrouded,
Just like the night sky, clouded,
How we wish for the clouds to part,
To reveal what is beneath the folds,
To give us a glimpse of what future holds,
So that we may likewise, our paths chart.

The past is behind us,
How we wish, some of it could change,
Some occurrences, we'd like to be undone,
Moments that didn't go as planned and spoiled the fun,
Moments of great sorrow and pain,
How we wish to set them straight again.

But hark! Such thoughts are all in vain,
Thinking of the past will only inflict more pain,
While the future in indeed uncertain,
On which He is right to draw the curtain,
For what shall be revealed when the curtains lifted,
Depends on how we utilize the present He's gifted.

Bliss

A child is happy,
He knows not what lies before,
He dwells not upon the past,
In the present does he live,
Happy and peaceful,
God's work of art.

As time passes,
And he learns the ways
of this world,
The so called tricks of trade,
His ever present smile,
No longer adorns his lips;
A relic of the past.

And we call him learned,
Knowledgeable in worldly ways,
A proper gentlemen, we say,
When he deftly flatters,
And we feel proud of how adept,
He is at controlling his emotions,
Of bending them to his will.

Was this really part of His plan?
Or is a child's ignorance really bliss.

Brush Strokes

A few carefree strokes,
A dozen careful ones,
With each line they draw,
A new detail they show.
A pathway to the mind of the creator,
His thinking they reveal.
His state of mind at the moment,
His desires, his dreams.

And, from out of nothing,
A picture appears,
A product of imagination,
Painted by feelings,
Embellished by colors...