The Wait

A girl all of fifteen

So genial and genteel,
Swayed like a tree
At her favorite spot, by the sea;
Her giggles filled the air
With a charm quite rare;
She picked her pebbles
And blew those soap bubbles,
Which naughtily at times chose
To pop right on her nose;
Those waves kissed her feet
She tasted the water, oh not-so-sweet!
She wrote with her hands
On the golden sands
Her favorite names
And played her games
With sea shells and stars
Soothing her scars
Of a wound still livin’
But long forgiven
For, she knows better
It was not just petter
Sweet-bitter
As those memories hit her
She continues to sway
By the tree, to this day
Longing for her gait
And hoping for the end to wait.
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The Random Walk

I’m looking outside the glass door in my living room and wondering to myself, what on earth happens to London weather on Sundays! It’s wet and cold outside, winds blowing across in full force and I find some comfort looking at these beautiful lines that delve in my sms-es these days… 
1. 
Rise and shine
It is a day so beautiful and pristine
Meet your friends, have wine and dine
Do all the things that make you feel bright and fine. 
2. 
The old tree stands tall,
looking at the new age of fall.
He never forgets even being old,
but the new twig is alone and must be bold,
remembering she’ll never be left in the cold.