Writes

I need to write in my blog so much,

every funny story, every naughty deed,

every hopeful wish and every poetic feed

But nowadays when I take up my pen to write,

nothing comes to mind, nothing bright

Have I grown old, I wonder

Have I stopped seeing the beauty

in what I need to believe in,

Have I stopped finding it beautiful,

every small thing, as it had first been

As I pause to wonder, if my

writing will ever come back,

as I pause to look at, what I

have scribbled over this writing pad

I saw what was familiar,

phrases and paragraphs,

rhythm and small verses,

showing beauty's epitaph

How wonderful it felt, to write

like how it had once been

I realised I grew up, but without

giving up any dreams

And that my dear friend,

is the beauty of life,

Inspiration and Solace,

comes to those who strive

A moment's look, a meaningful phrase,

a sweetened memory, and well deserving praise

These cherished feelings, come not cheap,

As you work through life and every deed,

comes the beauty you know of,

with a sudden leap