<script language="JavaScript" type="text/JavaScript"> <!-- function MM_reloadPage(init) { //reloads the window if Nav4 resized if (init==true) with (navigator) {if ((appName=="Netscape")&&(parseInt(appVersion)==4)) { document.MM_pgW=innerWidth; document.MM_pgH=innerHeight; onresize=MM_reloadPage; }} else if (innerWidth!=document.MM_pgW || innerHeight!=document.MM_pgH) location.reload(); } MM_reloadPage(true); //--> </script> <meta name='google-adsense-platform-account' content='ca-host-pub-1556223355139109'/> <meta name='google-adsense-platform-domain' content='blogspot.com'/> <!-- --><style type="text/css">@import url(https://www.blogger.com/static/v1/v-css/navbar/3334278262-classic.css); div.b-mobile {display:none;} </style> </head><body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/platform.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar/222318962791330340?origin\x3dhttp://winter-jade.blogspot.com', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>

Friday, 5 September 2008

Dance, Little Girl
Inspired by and dedicated to Eunice Yeo, a very dear friend.

Dance, little girl,
in the quiet alcoves by the bay.
The gentle sea-wind caresses
tenderly on this Sunday.
Away from the prying eyes
you dance,
merrily, happily
in the shallow wade-pools
as the secret melody pulls
lovingly,
always lovingly on you.

Dance, little girl,
on the fair meadows of Summer-May.
The gentle prairie-wind whispers
and the yellow-gold daffodils sway.
Away from unkind stares
you dance,
joyfully, gladly
by the bubbling stream that almost sings
of the secret melody, pulling
lovingly,
always lovingly on you.

Oh, but what happen'd,
little girl? Why
no longer joyful nor glad?

The sadness in your eyes overflow
through crimson tears
as your world grows harsh, cold.
No love, no love, no more.
Gone are the Summer days of before.

And you dance,
on the shards of shattered dreams.
your broken sobs fill the aching emptiness,
Hope's requiem, deep Sorrow's hymn.
In the midst of mockery,
pierced with loss and blood-red agony
you dance,
abandoning yourself to
the secret melody that pulls
lovingly,
always lovingly on you.

Like that Sunday,
in the midst of Summer-May.

3:28 pm