The Forged Quill

A PROPHECY Deep beneath has lurked a past Chosen have you such a path To respect and avoid the abyss While sanctifying your own wrath. Cleverly written was your fate You still find hard to swallow Grim and marked you though was Your days, with utmost sorrow. The sky is set high and it still rains Shan't you fear being alone Proud are you, and determined is your soul For your will is etched in stone. You'll only fear the moon and the stars For they have meant you grief Keep your bonds steel and be of help As in your friends you seek relief. Smitten with luck you seemed to have Yet lost you, the realms of bloom Stay precious and be strong Long enough shall you live to be groom. Reminiscing would you be, for the days to come Should you choose an alternate you Hath found a few worth faith and love Never let them without view. -F. Julian

  A SUNNY DAY  A sunny day will it be Full of life, saturated with glee Let no one ruin this spectacle, For this day's important, you'll see! Cheer has driven gloom away Happiness is here, and has come to stay! Cherished people, beautiful people, It's a magnificent, sunny day! It has rained for ages long, Wherein the wind blew, loud and strong. Today is the day we Idolise the right, and boycott the wrong. Humanity for now has seen enough, Building up to be resilient and tough Now is the moment we Soften the hard, smoothen the rough. Time we know, as the king of change, It's ways effective yet very strange! Thanks to it, humanity has now, Thoughts pertaining to a greater range. Let's do away with the sorrowful flags, Sulphur words and persistent nags, This be now, a happy world, Smiling, laughing, full of gags!! Through big hearts, understanding eyes, Full of fun yet unexpectedly wise, Give three cheers for yourself, Tomorrow, shall a new sun rise.  -F. Julian

  THE MEADOW Set the moon, with the last rays bright, Doused was the windowsill, a dim white, Soon came dawn, with crisp breeze and dew, Shone upon the meadow, the maiden sunlight. Grass moist, foliage fresh and green, Some plants towering, healthy and lean. Oh, what a beautiful summer morn it is The meadow lit up with a vivacious sheen! White dill patches, and some wildflowers seem, Blooming in the soft, lustrous, sunlight beam, As picturesque it is, Nature’s beauty, The meadow is like an exquisite dream. Wandered through grass, toddlers young, As the smell of fresh lavender and dills hung, In the air, ever so tonic and aesthetic. A magnificent melody, the birds sung. Exotic is this place for inspiration, won’t lie, For wannabes like you and I, Noon sets in and the sun rises high, Concludes the morning, lively yet shy. -F. Julian

  MY BESTFRIEND  I have a friend who's priceless to me Who's always full of life and glee! Always doth her fun side show, How perfectly understanding is she! I took her over lots of pebbles and rocks, Had I, with her, many meaningful talks. Yet never did she ever complain About hostile terrain, and painful walks. Very bright is her smile, which for I, Never compliment as I'm always shy! Splendidly honest are we to each other And to her, I'd never lie. Changed us do seem these last few days, As we both try to mend our own ways. Through pride and caution and inspiring smiles, We face challenges together, for that's our craze! How extremely beautiful is she, though How magnificent are the qualities she does stow! How dedicated and hardworking is she, In her presence, I am never low! Faith's blessed me with such a comrade, My memory of her will never fade. Extremely honoured and grateful I am, To have a friendship which's lustrous than jade! -F. Julian

  THE CHILD IN THE FIELDS As time flies by, make it known, That this unhappy, melancholic tone, Will be chased away by the lush crops Of seeds of courage and tenacity you've sown. It's demeaning to be upset, guilty to be sad, Assumes the gloomy, depressed lad. With a young tenure and lonesome feelings, He feels being melancholic is bad. With a droopy, long, inexpressive face, Always assumes the worst, just in case. The child is thy responsibility, parents. Must you neither be sulphur nor be base. For now this child ain't merely eight, He's entered into a more grown up state. Halt thy actions and reconsider them  Give him more love and not just hate. Supply him space and supply him time, Be sweet as honey not spur as lime, For this child has a big heart I know, Inscribed forever, here, in this rhyme. -F. Julian

MOTHER The one with big, caring eyes, Who knows the truth behind all your lies, If He couldn't be there for us all the time, He gave us a mother, understanding and wise! What big hearts they have, who knows, To what extent their love and care goes! She brought us in this world with love so pure, She holds an auspiciousness greater than any rose! Impossible it is, to gauge her care, Who holds a place in our heart, so rare, Infinitely without exception is she always worried, Not one moment without love, I swear! Now, just imagine how bad it would be, Should your mother shed tears while you sit in glee, Truth to be told, the best fortune is, If you have a loving, caring mother, trust me. Enough about a mother could never be said, Who kisses us goodnight whilst we're in bed, Live long mother, for thee shal'st be, Forever, the heart of my head. -F. Julian

THE CRAFTSMAN'S SON One fine July morning saw, The Craftsman's son, Spread eagled upon weeping grass, Marvelling, at the greatest Creation ever, The scent of lavender and rose, Dispersed throughout the meadow. Quiet, sat the dreamy eyed kid, Tranquil flowed the stream nearby, Whilst he looked onward, inspired, A new seed of ambition and will hence sown, Watered with tenacious tears and sweat, In his life to come. Thrived on thee, hath many hopes, Whilst thee put passion before body, Thy aches, thee knew, shal'st bring forth a gift, An honour, a name, more willpower, Struggling now in lieu of later. Oh worry not, thee inoccent lad, For the fruits you harvest shall be, Sweeter than honey, thus so pleasant, Pleased, proud be your peers, Shining brightly whilst lighting, The fires of more desire and inspiration. -F. Julian

 A PLUVIOPHILE How majestic is the rain outside Wherein critters do come out of their hide, With a touch of grace and Nature’s blessings, The clouds above stretch high and wide. With a soft pitter-patter on the window pane, Falls the magnificent, hopeful rain. The green shine of the garden and the white tulips, So lush, for life it does gain. Your blessings us do seek, oh Mother Nature! The rain is a boon, to both man and creature! Dispensable us do seem, so insignificant, While marvelling at your ever queenlike stature! Oh, the petrichor in the wonderful breeze, The man once on edge is now at ease, Oh what a gift did He bestow upon us, Sadness and worries thus gradually cease. Make us, no haste and neither sound, For thee, rain, shal’st be crowned, For prosperity and calm that grows fresh, From the lively, thriving ground. The field so fresh and the roses with dew, As the clouds part, revealing a sky so blue. Farewell, oh, Harbinger of life, Who’s left a landscape saturated with hue.