“Love Is Waiting”

In the autumn on the ground,

between the traffic and the ordinary sounds

I am thinking signs and seasons while a north wind blows through

I watch as lovers pass me by

Walking stories – whos and hows and whys

Musing lazily on love

Pondering youI’ll give it time, give it space and be still for a spell

When it’s time to walk that way we wanna walk it well

[CHORUS:]

I’ll be waiting for you baby

I’ll be holding back the darkest night

Love is waiting til we’re ready, til it’s rightLove is waiting
It’s my caution not the cold

there’s no other hand that i would rather hold

the climate changes, I’m singing for the strangers about you

don’t keep time, slow the pace

Honey hold on if you canthe bets are getting surer now that you’re my man

[CHORUS]

[BRIDGE:]

I could write a million songs about the way you say my name

I could live a life

time with you and then do it all again

and like I can’t force the sun to rise or hasten summer’s start,

neither should I rush my way into your heart

To God and Ireland true

by
Ellen O’Leary (1831–89)


I SIT beside my darling’s grave,

Who in the prison died,

And though my tears fall thick and fast

I think of him with pride:

Ay, softly fall my tears like dew,

For one to God and Ireland true.


“I love my God o’er all,” he said,

“And then I love my land,

And next I love my Lily sweet,

Who pledged me her white hand:

To each—to all—I ’m ever true,

To God, to Ireland, and to you.”


No tender nurse his hard bed smooth’d

Or softly rais’d his head;

He fell asleep and woke in heaven

Ere I knew he was dead;

Yet why should I my darling rue?

He was to God and Ireland true.


Oh, ’t is a glorious memory!

I ’m prouder than a queen,

To sit beside my hero’s grave

And think on what has been;

And, O my darling, I am true

To God—to Ireland—and to you!

An old tree in my memories of my university.

A very old tree standing in the first groundof my university when entering from the side gate. Very old indeed that we can see the marks of all weathers on its strong bark and aged skin full of wrinkles all over. Source of shade for its old companions and an inspiration of stayin' strong in all circumstances to the young emotional blood. A tree which is like a mother whose shade is very lovely and lap is so comfortable.

Great Leader

A historical picture. Quaid on 14th August, 1947.

Words are lost...

The cherry life...!!!

the cherry life!
can you lose what you love the most
let your affection become a ghost
make your liking alien to you
tough is the task but aren't you too?

clinging to love makes it a material
desire for happiness makes it surreal
ecstacy lies not in worldly proclivity
have you ever tried to dissolve in infinity?

pain is a curse, it is the satans plot
bring that smile,dont worry about those lifeless sqaut
life is a cherry and our soul is a song
you are perfect, remember god can never be wrong ...