“Everything has its place and time, ascribe to it.”
~ © Esmond Ng 22/04/12
“Again” by Esmond Ng 28/07/10 © Copyright
Another year briskly it’s time again,
How age catches outruns our each day.
On not how each candle adds to date,
But on our virgin meet 27 shinings away.
5 and 2 months; resemblance to yesterday,
Though blink of eye, yours vividly remain.
I wonder if the flowers its’ scent will one day,
Be erased; forgotten, our Time in some place.
Know not when this silence of summer’s night fade,
My memories they bring me to that very first fate.
And before Time its habit to slip away,
This year once again, wishings; a Happy Birthday.
“Happy Birthday!” by Esmond Ng 28/07/09 © Copyright
Have a blast; some merriment this day.
Joyful gaiety due none can take away.
And to you all festives will surely give way,
For it be for you that these galas grace.
Though these words replace not how much I have to say,
You of all will know what needn’t be displayed.
It is in times like these when I distanced, I pray:
Longstanding wishes & Happy Birthday!
“Time in Some Place” by Esmond Ng 11/03/09 © Copyright
Miraculous it may seem,
Fate works its ways in us beings.
For never did I imagine could be,
What I seek’d in front of me.
Once I hanker’d and once I did receive,
Paints of memories and etch’d it did.
An innocent Romeo & Juliet story,
Coincidences in most everything.
Like the end of tragic Love stories,
Too ours perhaps guileless and naïve.
But these flowers its’ scent can’t be erased,
Even long after they’re gone we had our Time in some place.
“The Lead Box” by Esmond Ng 08/01/09 © Copyright
Choices not apparent the always,
Deceivable most times the case,
If be uninvolved so snap smooth the first place,
Then what of choice would be it in dawning preface?
How we then make verdict of it all?
Consensus concord a volition pray.
For some in haste and foolhardy made,
Regrettable woeful will afflict its place.
Bassanio too was worriment engaged,
For dependent was Portia on his take.
Should gold, silver or lead be his box picked?
Should he cull a coward pick?
As stairs of sand they wear upon their chins,
The beard of Hercules and all their fancy things.
But inward with their milk’d white livers,
So too the precious metal boxes contain.
“This Place” by Esmond Ng © copyright 25/11/05
After all, this was where I first saw you in white angelic.
The place I picked you up from for our first date.
The place I thought I would see the sweetest thing to my eyes each every day.
The place which stayed the one who took my last true love breath away.
At this place I hold much lovely memories but also pain.
That I would hurt someone and disappoint her till this day.
At this place, never the same it will be.
At this place, they soon will tear down; cease to exist.
But at this place, though no longer soon be;
Will stay the same in heart and mind; like you be to me.
For I to you, believe you still say the same;
That you be a holder of past “begone” memories.