My House of Gryffindor.

Here is my House – born from the name
Of the great wizard, Godric Gryffindor.
Who was a warlock tough and honourable,
Fiercely strong as the wind on a moor.

His best trait though lay not in Power,
Or Honour, or Bravery beyond logic.
But in the very fact that he let All
Join Hogwarts, to enrich the gift of magic.

The Hat that judges with cool wisdom,
The Sword embedded with rubies red,
Belonged to this man who esteemed
Knowledge and Fairness, which was inbred.

Gryffindor, then, is the House,
Of vibrant Red mixed with Gold,
Where the Lion’s Emblem stands guard,
To stop any evil – be it new or old.

It produces students who are exceptional,
As regards their courage, which never ends,
As regards their determination and
The code of loyalty amongst friends.

Here is my House where I am loved,
Here is my House – Gryffindor!
Here are my brave, loyal and courageous friends –
Why should I possibly ask for more?

Time.

Time passes us by and memories are made,
Dreams pass on with Youth’s last sigh,
And things move closer to death’s shade,
While all that we are, all that is, is going to die.

Remember? How it was when we first –
Remember is all that we seem to do…
That smile, that rose, that meeting, that thirst,
What you were to me, what I was to you.

Time passes and emotions cool down by degree,
If I smile now you don’t see the light in the eyes;
For now love is tempered by chaste reality
And we realized that everything that was and is dies.

What of the time I fantasized of Knights,
Charging down to take me from the real of life?
It has faded slowly when, in heartbroken nights,
Comprehending that pieces of paper make a husband and wife.

The lessons time shows are hard to bear,
Everything that goes high descends with a fall,
Dreams have youth while age has hope’s share,
The irony of this rant on Time being: it cures All.

6th November.

A Conversation.

A Conversation.

You are crying!
He is lying …
He is asleep?
Yes, quite deep.
Why do you weep?

Did you fight?
Yes, all night.
Is he asleep?
Dream deep.
Why don’t you sleep?

Will he stay?
I can’t say …
Duty calls?
And fear brawls.
Ah, Love sees that Pride crawls!

You are sad?
Wants I had …
Does he care?
Yes, love’s share.
Look around! He isn’t there!

You still cry?!
I can’t lie.
Sleeps, doesn’t he?
Sound and warmly.
Fool, fool you be!

26th January.