Life is like a Box of Crayons

 

Life is a collection of drawings

You are the painter

would color with chosen colors

With the time

most preferred colors would finish afast

Leaving you a collection of unused crayons

because you did not like those much…

 

Whenever able

You would get another new pack,

color more pages

and many more, happily…

 

When you have decorated the other pages

eventually, you would have a collection of

crayons, colors that you did not like much

And maybe many leftover pages

unfortunately,

circumstance may compel you to color

those with what you have

though ones you did not prefer…

Probably,

that maybe for you, yourself.

Heavy Buds

 

It was like tiny, tiny flowers

decorated the twigs yesterday

become softy buds

enjoying  the morning sun

Busy dark clouds in a journey

Travel a fast, maybe a far

Covering the silky fabrics arrangements 

in the blue sky

I can hear, rising sea breeze far

Speeding wind come across the land 

Bringing down the dark blanket 

maybe heavy

Mango buds are hell bent

Being unable to stand the shower

Sad, looking down

Tiny, tiny buds dropped under the tree

The bark, with burls and looking strong

Bearing many branches, twigs and leaves

Is that soft, tiny nice smelling buds heavy?

I don’t know why, but mother nature might…