Picture of dreams

Such innocents souls,
as dawn breaks into life.
The only dream is the best life.
Age crawls up and dreams pile up.
Cursed, blessed and think of the worst,
still the only wish is success.
Guaranteed qualities but less quantity,
to live life like themes of Kings.
Education first!
Ideas pack the mind in good fortune.
How to change the world?
Preserve life and possess wealth?
Have respect and dignity in excess?
Such unrealistic dreams crowd the mind.
Perfect wife like the mother.
Preacher's manners in every child.
A mansion with greens, no questions.
Such passionate life in desire.
Chances slim with every hurdle.
Put christ before price were her words.
To be saved and ready to give in.
Never to accept charity.
Sweat and bleed for children to feed.
Accept life and live nice.
Perfect pictures in mind.
all is said now its to be lived.
Dreams bring spark to life.
life is a dream not always realised.

We are but children of the sand

……Fixed on the spot!
Me heart cracked in a bolt!
Took a moment,took a breath,transfixed!
Eyes stared,Me eyes glued and moved!
by the crystal water but red,amazed!
Before me lye a being in a motion of motionless,
with a hallow piercing in his heart dripping rain of blood.
suddenly could hear the dancing of me heart,
The beat!…..the rhythm inside me.
could hear the echo of me own words,
but fading they were as me eyes kept on lingering ,searching for
….answers why?
'we are but children of the sand'

A dream that could have been
   lost in a an instant of a moment!
A star that could have shine brighter
  covered in the dark silk of uncertainty
A legend he could have been
  he is but an unfinished scripture
could have been a great story to be told.

Hush!my heart,we are but survivors of surviving
Shush!my soul,we are but living for dying
Only a matter of time!……Its  only a matter of time.
   Tick!Tick!Tick!
Catch a breath,skip a heartbeat, the hour glass is full!
…..A shout,A Scream, A pool of blood!
Whose fixed on the spot?
An answer,my voice will utter this time!
'We are but children of the sand!

Free

Entrapped In This Prison Of Time
My Heart Yearns For Freedom
My Mind Yearns For Solitude
My Soul Yearns For Spirituality.
Lost In Thoughts I am.
Bound Away From The World
Behind Masks Of Emotions
Captured In Dreams
In Worlds Unknown To Man
Places Only Imagination Can Reach
Through The Quest Of Life Travels I
Trying To Unravel The Mysteries
Searching For The Deeper Meaning Of Life
Journeying To The Depths Of My Soul
Daring To Gaze Inside
Fearing What Might Be There
Passionate Longing To Know
Striving For Knowledge
Feasting On Imagination
Raping Dreams
Belonging, Belonging…
This Craziness Of Freedom.

Old Man Waiting

The old man eased is body down
His legs were tired, the bench would do fine;
The gnarled rugged hands were huge and shaking
As he lit his pipe; seemed so difficult lately.

With a wise sad smile he observed the crowds,
With hardly a glance they all just rushed by.

The steps that they walk, the things that they do
It all was old hat and nothing was new.
Once he too was young and a man amongst men
But what did it bring him in the here now and then?

Time is quite sly and sneaks up on you,
You wake up one day with not much to do.
A skin that is wrinkled, your body so slow
And all of a sudden you have too much time,
No longer the need to start work at nine.

With a wistful smile he lets out a sigh
For he knew they would all have to learn with time.

Marie A. Duddle

Test of the Best

Oh sad little figure of yester-year
What a pitiful sight you portray,
Your youthful skin once firm, aglow,
now lifeless, dull, sallow and holed.

How little you realized the price you would pay
When impulsively you consented that fateful day
To swallow one pill and enter new worlds
Where skies would be bluer, and life much much cooler.

You studied so hard, its just harmless fun, then tomorrow you'll decline and "listen to Mum".

Diplomas on your walls so full of dust,
in fact you now think they weren't worth all the fuss.

Your body now rules you
You’ve relinquished control
And the little pill is master, it helps you feel "whole".

Not far from your home in the local hall
There's a buzz and a fuss
for many scholars are rewarded; its the end of the year.

Your mother sits silently in the quiet lounge
and cries when she hears the "well done" and cheers,
for well she remembers a timein the past time when you stood on that stage
and named "best of all".