i googled: ‘tomato red’
keep being afraid
of the things you have done and said;
of their consequences, and of their weight.
sweet and lovely is the image you cherish to bed;
lingering vividly in your thoughts: the tomato, red.
but don’t let your mind wander too far ahead
when nothing has yet to even come to a head.
should it happen, give thanks to God’s appointed fate,
should it not, still give thanks – don’t hang low your head.
for the Lord knows what’s best for you.
as shown in all that is past, and in time, all that was once new.
He knows better every colour and every hue
of the heart and mind you always thought you knew.
who’s to say if the words too few
or the peaks and troughs you at times feel
are not but shards of the chalice He has planned for you?
“Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me:
nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done.”
let be sober over sense of feeling, lest be blinded and not see;
let be loving, heart to feel, lest be selfish and come undone.
click for source
i once knew a boy who lived in fear
of a beast that laid sleeping so near.
with a roar it brought many men to cheers,
and with a howl it brought them all back to tears.
he pondered about it, year on year,
why its black and white were to many so dear?
‘today’, he said, ‘i will find out here.’
mustered his courage, drew close to hear.
to his surprise, there was nothing to fear:
it wasn’t snarling; it was singing;
it was a new friend who had been waiting.
‘Weeping’ by Josh Groban + an ode to my piano. Heh. 🙂
click for source
i know a little woman full of fear.
her shoulders were not so broad
and she was often overawed
by the little things which she held dear.
but what she had was a heart of gold;
the kind which was the envy of every soul;
the kind which kept a family whole.
to clothe us in warmth she burned herself;
for our comfort she waged her health.
she is dawn’s first ray after the longest night;
in complete darkness our guiding light;
doing her human best to teach us right.
she is the shore where land meets sea;
no matter how violently the sea waves crashed ashore,
she embraced them tenderly all the same.
i know this little woman full of love;
forgive me my mother; i love you.
Happy Mother’s Day to mother’s everywhere. : )
To the children:
She has been, is and will be your mother all the days; from when you were birthed into the world, to the day you are returned to the earth. While man-made occasions like this serve as a helpful reminder for us to be grateful and thankful (as well as a reason for celebration!), I hope you will take it to heart to love them no less on the ordinary days, and on days which are less than ordinary.
And to my own mother:
Forgive me for being ungrateful.
I love you.
click for source
and there it was again.
the strange sentiment comprising of awe and fear
mixed into one uncomfortable bulk
that beats repeatedly in my chest,
like a chimera of emotions pouncing;
ready to take over my mind,
as i read on and on and
learned a little more
for mere minutes i marveled at
her prowess of bending words to her will;
yet for hours i found myself wondering about
the gears on which her mind ran.
i adore them; they intimidate me,
and i wonder if they would continue
haunting my thoughts daily so.
there’s probably no mistake:
i find her attractive.
but my past blunders remind me
just how fickle and prone to folly i can be.
she is one i will continue observing,
with guarded heart and careful smiling.
with cold feet and heart-a-thumping.
Seriously I don’t know if these can be classified as poems…
The timing of my last two poems are unfortunate, considering their contrasting contents. This one’s freshly written, the previous one is an old draft that was finally refined enough to be posted today.
click for source
o shepherd who watches over the meek,
my soul in your flock would you keep?
would you protect my soul as i weep,
and desert me not as i sleep?
none of your flock are ever lost,
what is yours will be and was.
a wolf could never masque as sheep;
with pelts of wool have i fooled myself?
o God hallowed who sit on high,
where in truth doth my name lie?
will i find it in the book of life?
or hath i though learned become naive?
if i were never of your own,
i pray only i stumbled none.
so as you bring my fur to shear,
is it grey or is it white?
by ReBeLa @ deviantart
a troubled furrowed brow
seeps through your smiling facade
despite your expert masking of emotions.
a hint of sorrow; slightly reddened eyes.
i couldn’t help but feel a tear or two
would not be out of place.
there are times where we would
all walk our solitary mile.
take a trip down to the depths of our hearts.
suppressed memories; unwilling lies.
we smile, we laugh; we make no sense, but
you may frown; we all have emotions.
A more refined version than the one I posted on Facebook initially ahaha!
could it be?
the foundation of rock firmly laid on land
were actually pillars and pillars of sand?
for i am a lesser man,
i cannot do what my Lord can.
and now that i am down to my last,
i see olive branches are hard to extend.
we will all have to go where we must;
so now, the last die has been cast.
all things go from dust to dust;
will we last, or will we rust?
what a pun.
^ is actually quite proud he thought of ‘enter’, ‘send’, and ‘mend’; that is, pressing enter to send a message that would (hopefully) mend the relationship.