Road signs here and here

Pointing the way there and there

Palm trees tall and stately

Pointing to the sun, moon and stars

Church spires modern and gothic

Pointing to heaven and to God

Skyscrapers, a distant silhouette

Trying hard to make their point!

While I’m but a mere wanderer

Some would say, a pointless

Thus un-appointed life

With my scruffy notepad and shoes

And a gleaming pen-tip poised.

Cheung-Ling Wong

They looked me up blankly, silently

Then, squinting their eyes sussing

Hissed – exuded airs knowingly

Such satisfaction, such conceit!

Through their mind’s catalogue

A whole cast of characters to dob

Suspects, villains, stereotypes

To pick and choose at whim

A quick, simple, convenient lot

Thus my character and biz

In their melodramatic plot

Came into being – without quiz!

Cheung-Ling Wong

Peerless in art, woven fine

A little spider’s effort and design

Crafting its genius, crafting its keep

Catching wayward fortunes’ reap

Of tangoed and tangled fates

In silken threads and wings spun

All glistening neath midday sun

As I struggle with mine a-chance

Line by line – by cursive ink wove

Rhythm and rhyme wrought and strove

Patiently waiting for that dance.

Cheung-Ling Wong

It was a carefree lifestyle

A careless, effortless reverie

Unencumbered by compassion

Consideration or regard

Insouciant and light-hearted

’Cos there’s no heart at all

Making it all seem so easy

Like school without homework

Souls shunning the throbbing pain

The living and beating heart

Of love and its existence.

Cheung-Ling Wong

From afar – magisterial

All’s but a guesstimate

Truth is immaterial

…

Abiding near – parental

Privy to all things intimate

Truth is animate

…

From afar – things seeming

Appearances blank

Having its way with me

…

Abiding near – clear seeing

Acknowledgements frank

And thus was raised to be.

Cheung-Ling Wong

You cannot ignore my insuperable rock

That for the life of you

Can’t be imagined away

You can close your eyes feel your way

All you’re touching is but the monolith

You can scream and shout

But it will remain inert, mineraly

Silent yet emphatic, ominous yet innocent

It is what it is – despite your alchemy

Of misery, violence and acrimony

Banging your head against it in denial.

Cheung-Ling Wong

That, I may be just a stitch

Caught in the weft and warp

Of time and space

Playing my itty bit-part

In the Grand Tapestry

Of – God knows what

That, He may admire

His grand designs

From his eyrie afar

But, only a hint of a pattern

An undercurrent of art

My fleeting excuse for life

Could barely discern.

Cheung-Ling Wong

Let these words do more

Than just merely suggest

Let each their syllables

Be a will and intent

Each letter thus stressed

Leave impressions’ indent

A spell invoked – thus evoked

With every word spelled

In every statement:

A life – a living breath

And thus a testament

Cherished and be-held

Should you, now be sad

May – joy be more than just said

Should you, now be in pain

May – soothing balm be our refrain

And should you crave hope

Then pray these words be

More than just a trope!

Cheung-Ling Wong

The mood clung to me

Like a clammy breath

Cloying and suffocating

How I longed for that

Cooling breeze yonder

Or absolving rains

From high above

I’m still waiting

With bated time

For echoes’ return

Prayers – too long gone.

Cheung-Ling Wong

Clouds belong to the sky

Don’t they float magnificently!

Birds belong to treetops

Don’t they look so fetching!

Trees belong to forests

Where grandeur is all theirs!

And the fish to their seas and lakes

Sublime are they in their world!

But, what of you and me?

Where do we fit in this scheme?

To be like a flame to its wick

Beautiful and brilliant!

Cheung-Ling Wong