Without glasses

Twinkle of lights
are not satelite
until I wear glasses,
they're not from sky.
I take out glasses
they look like stars,
Merrily twinkle,
vivid and beautiful;
until I wear glasses,
they become squares,
on broadband stood tall;
stars are imagination. 

By Petal

Copyright 2010 onwards

Artist's papaya

One of the papayas is in my workplace.
The fruit of yellow and green I did not steal.
It's randomly found in unexpected place,
That had not eaten and I leave it be.
It is untouched and still on my table.

At carpark where there's a tree found,
That one I once look at,
but misplace:
The inspiration I could not find.
A moment only one part that fascinate me
Are the colours of living thing's lives.

Gardens are the place where one can find,
Among are the papayas I pick green.
It does not consider to stealing it
The season comes and it's free country.
Now on the table, papaya's still as a sculpture.

Drawn with pastel I randomly visualize,
It's simple as a fruit, and only the colour
fascinate me to sketch
papaya.
that's when inspiration strike I started,
turn blank paper to colour of flesh after being drawn.

By Petal
Copyright 2010 onwards.

Incident at pedestrian street

Ambling feet swirled on
cunning pavement, flickered
footsteps steer past familiar
places, on the day
the sky drop
independent pour of gloom
like steady and endless
stream of harmless needles.

The weather screen cloud
out of shops' roofs,
umbrella been clamoured
to clear way for strolling feet
at the moment of edgy
rush by incoming car heads
down pedestrian street
fleet of wheels start to screech.

It echoes the crash
with attention my eyes
zoomed upon scrunched heap
injured when she cries,
with howling pain of holler brings
attention piercing call.
The driver on seat
must be hopeless on mishap
with shocked eyes.

Touch of headlights stain cold
when lights disappear, it's not broken which
is fortunate revelation of time isn't night.
Broken figure of a maid was on arms
of mistress appear instinctively when
she was beside to growl at him
driver's recklessness and might.

Driver's sin was too much for me
to judge, in wind it fly, surrounded
by pour as cloak to hide
guilty eyes. Mistress
and maid recoil
as if they saw gun flit on rest
they must move aside
a path of dangerous line.

Every strenuous minute drag under
cloud and car's pane mask
unmoving and defiant message that shrunken
the will to stay in line than angrily shout,
stood I on dark road which page
me reflect to be sage.

By Petal

Copyright 2010 onwards

My grandfather is an angel

It's sudden, disbelieving words came out from cellphone,
My grandfather left, my heart turns alone.
Tears jerk until the moment bus stop I must alight,
no tears on face, eyes turn away from passerby's scry,
that day, how could I lost my grandfather? I thought until I saw.
The moment he is still room fill with stricken pause
How unfair he suffer the silence as he once dream hope;
I know the nature of cycle but only flaw is my soul there
Are not present when time announce, but it told
He depart and be angel without notice, I've nothing to hold,
My anchor was lost with dread as departure left despair.
In my dreams he ask to be let go, I woke to accept the world. 

By Petal 

Copyright 2010 onwards