STIRRINGS 2: This Could Be It!

Few days ago,
Less than a week or so,
There seemed to be a flow,
Of hoarded love into another’s,
Like pollen on anthers,
Some sticking togethern’s,
I wish I could say it’s subtle,
But that was then,
When I felt like a broken bottle,
Or bone-brittle,
Just vulnerable alittle,
To love and then be an item;
Or rather be loved.
But how so I recovered!
From a negative to a nought,
How fast He restored,
All after I had prayed,
So that there’s calmness,
Alittle more than boldness,
A hopeful assuredness,
A little craziness?
Uncertain maybe-ness?

That this could be it!
How fast I got this lit,
Don’t have the slightest hint,
Like my heart is red with a tint
Transition minute as a pint
A gradual fraction of change.

The girl in my heart-room,
She left the door open,
Must’ve been that,
For much has happened since,
She last watched the other leave.
She sat there a little disappointed,
After the other left,
Unsure of whether he’d return.
Another unlike him liked her,
And she had once liked him too,
So she stood up,
He wasn’t sure he’d stay,
She wasn’t either,
She still isn’t,
Her face, now brighter, smiles.
Rather glows with tint,
For a while she hadn’t,
She’d been waiting upon,
For the Maker’s resolute,
She was once restless,
But now thinks…
This could be it!

STIRRINGS 1: Love Lorn?

Love lorn?
Not again and not by you!

There’s a lady living inside me,
Who waits patiently,
For love, true love
She waits while sitted on a chair,
As she rocks back and forth in it,
She used to knit while waiting-
Till recently,
When she put down her crotchets,
And rolled the wool ball neatly,
Because she thought she heard steps,
Of a lover approaching.

Not that she’s never had guests,
She has had quite a plenty-
Some of whom brought her roses and daisies,
And oh, such priceless gifts!
Amusing promises too,
If only she’d accept them,
But no she couldn’t,
For they unlike her, like her.
But right now she feels prepared,
The footsteps sound so sure,
She cracks her knuckles anxiously,
Wipes off the sweat in her palms.

She hears a knock, well-defined.
For this she anticipated.
Rises to her feet walks swiftly,
She almost trips on the mat,
The door swings open,
And he stands there abounding,
With nothing in his hands,
He looks at her eyes dazzling,
But how comes he has no flowers?
Why such disappointment?
Her heart’s prepared to be filled in,
Hers is a jar of love, overflowing,
A balloon bloated with love,
That’d burst any time it’s pricked.

She’s been here waiting,
To fill his jar with her love,
But he still has his hidden,
She couldn’t fill it up,
It’s out of sight yet in her mind,
He leaves so soon, it’s disappointing.
Leaves without a word,
Without a promise to return,
Leave alone to be there for her,
He leaves silently and leaves a silence.

Leaves a bliss of solitude,
A somewhat confused girl,
Who’s back on her chair,
Rocking it back and forth,
Staring into space,
With one hope-
That he returns, if not,
That the Lord might answer her,
For now she’s lacking,
A love that’s lurking,
Will it show itself,
Shall it come forth?
She implores her Lord.

Thought You Should Know.

Cause everybody’s beautiful in their own way,
It’s not the complements that make you cute,
You already were before they saw-
Then expressed it in mere words.
This is just a heads up for you,
Incase you meet someone who sees,
Or rather, one who doesn’t see-
Just how unique you were made to be,
And yeah some will stare at you and smile,
They’ll make remarks you’ll want to hear,
And some so wrongly phrased, abrupt
But swirie just remember it’s all been there,
It’s all been you, been real too.
You are beautiful, thought you should know.
You ain’t got everything but all you have is everything-
That you need to be you, and stay unique.

It’s No Advert :-|

So many empty seats I see,
Is it because it rained last night?
And we woke up to a chilly morning?
So that you couldn’t take a shower,
Or even leave your bed?
For fear of shiver and shaking-
Of goosebumps and standing hairs.
So your only option was to stay in bed-
“Who wants to get out there, catch a cold?”
Your insincere inquiry-sad.

Let’s shed some light here-
With no intention of weighing you down,
With guilt, or cause your knees to tremble.
Let’s flashback for a while, shall we?
Six days you shall labour and do all your work,
But the seventh day is a Sabbath to the Lord your God,
On it, you, you, you shall do no work-
Sunday service ain’t a day long.

The saviour longs for communion with you,
A fellowship with the sheep of His flock.
Your list of week-long thanksgiving awaits you,
If He calls you to His house, His presence,
His temple and His dwelling place,
You’re his child, oblige, hasten to his call;
And don’t forget to bring a gift,
He gave His son for you,
A gift so priceless ,we can’t repay
All we can is, gratitude portray.

So next time the devil holds you down,
Rather, pins you like a specimen on a board,
Free yourself and jump off bed
You can’t afford to miss another one,
Don’t let the door hit you on your way out.
Oh how I love Sunday service!