Seven-fold Band

I drew them with cords of a man, with bands of love: 
Hosea 11:4a

A threefold cord is not quickly broken.
Ecclesiastes 4:12b

Whether worse, or better
For poorer or richer
Be it sickness, or health
In poverty or wealth
You to love and cherish
May our love still flourish
May this love ‘tween us the tie that binds
As our two lives into one entwined
If these solemn vows I say and this wedding day
The mark of when we threw our single lives away
And as it were, we became one tied together
With a thin band of words meant to last forever –
Then may these vows, words, the binding band
That our still fragile young love demands
Be made of the finest tempered steel
To last whatever comes from left field
Fine as gold, so all they who behold
Will see our love as that to be sought
Like the high value of precious rocks
That with your blood can only be bought
May this thin band be hard as diamond
Unflinching, priceless and defiant
Yet soothing, calming, soft like the breeze
Healing wounds and carry us when weak
May this thin band, never rust nor fade
Never corrode, crack, snap, break, or age.
But through every great fire and every howling storm
Surrounded by foes or desperately alone
May this thin band stand the test of time
From this day forth that I make you mine.
And if one band to thee, not enough
Then go take six more and bind me up.
They say two bands are very hard to crack open
And a three fold cord is not easily broken
But they also say that seven is perfection
And that’s what I see when I see our reflection
So take these cords and bands in thy hands
And make our love a seven-fold band
Motivated by Roje
Written for Sam and Rachel on their special day.
Dedicated to every couple who desire to last forever


Life use to be simple. Emotions clear.

Friends were friends, nothing to fear.

The kiss of a friend, the shake of a hand.

They were all signs of a friend, an honest man.

But now I look in your face and wonder what you hide.

Wonder what you really think, when you confide.

Now I no longer trust what I’m told.

Now that I’m no longer young but old.

I look deep into your face, trying to place

The words you say, wondering what parts you erase.

Trying to see through the layers of wax.

Wondering what parts of you are real and which are fake.

Wish I could light a candle, and watch it all melt.

So I can see what you really meant, what you really felt.

Tired of people, covered in wax, trying to pas what twasn’t.

Wish I could go back to a time where wax wasn’t.

Wanna be able to step in and know you mean it.

I wanna know that you really feel it.

What will I see, if I melt your wax away?

Is it really you who I’ll find at the end of the day?

Are you a person sincere, without wax.

Or have you coated white wax over the black?


Story behind the poem:

Sincere can be traced to a root meaning ‘without wax’. Below is an excerpt from Wikipedia about the possible explanations for it:

“An often repeated folk etymology proposes that sincere is derived from the Latin sine = withoutcera = wax. According to one popular explanation, dishonest sculptors in Rome or Greece would cover flaws in their work with wax to deceive the viewer; therefore, a sculpture “without wax” would mean honesty in its perfection.[4] Another explanation is that this etymology “is derived from a Greeks-bearing-gifts story of deceit and betrayal. For the feat of victory, the Romans demanded the handing over of obligatory tributes. Following bad advice, the Greeks resorted to some faux-marble statues made of wax, which they offered as tribute. These promptly melted in the warm Greek sun.” ref:

Wax is often used to make sculptures of people. Real people, but it’s just wax. After several bad experiences scarred me, I now almost always find myself questioning the person’s motives and intents. Do they really mean what they say? Or are they just made of wax? Faking for who-knows-what-reason. Is this person really sincere, without wax, or are they insincere, NOT without wax :).



Nothing’s Wrong aka Storm’s Will Come

There once was a battlefield where all was silent.

From foxholes and ditches rose the heads of men defiant.

The weathered general looked around, looked hard, looked long.

Said to his men, There’s nothing wrong except there’s nothing wrong.

Not long after, they found themselves pinned down,

Surrounded by the enemy. The enemy all around.

There’s nothing wrong except there’s nothing wrong.

Does everything look bright? Keep sharp, stay strong.

Cause storms will come, right when nothing’s wrong.

It has been said that when things are bad, look up,

Cause things are sure to brighten up.

But when things are looking good, brace yourself.

Lest you start running when the rain pelts.

Friendships may be strong and good, but when the storm comes.

Then you find out what they’re made of, what they become.

Watch what you promise, what you do, what you say.

Because storms will come and test you, one day.

When living on a mountain, on an endless high.

Look out, cause the fall is hard when you’re up in the sky.

Those promises you make when feeling on top of it all,

Are only as good as you can deliver when you feel small.

True people aren’t rated by how they’re seen.

They’re rated by the storms in which they’ve been.

The greatest tree can fall down in a storm,

Even though it was big and majestic, it’s gone.

Will you hold when the fire burns?

When the cold numbs?

Will you fight on, in the thunder and hail?

Will you go on, and refuse to fail?

Will you hold true to your word?

Or are you the coward that runs before the sword?

Batten down the hatches. Remember what has been said and done.

Because storms will come . . . .



Story behind the poem:

This poem was inspired by the movie, ‘We Were Soldiers’: “Nothing’s wrong except there’s nothing wrong!” I was reading in a book, that “If we’re having a hard time, hold on, because it will eventually go away. But if everything’s fine, hold on, because the boat is going to be rocked soon.”

I guess I’ve come to realise that this applies to friendships, projects, and promises as well. We feel on top of the world, tackle a project, start well. But then the storm comes, and we give up. We promise to do something, but the storm wears us down. Friendships. There are so many examples. This is one that is closest to home for me: The bridegroom says to the bride, “I do.” And they both vow to be together for better or worse. Yeah right. Because the stats for divorce, are horrendous. What happened to all those ‘solemn’ vows? The storms came, and they revealed who the people really were at heart. Storms have a knack for revealing who we really are.

Nothing’s wrong, except nothing’s wrong. Are you expecting a storm? Are you going to be able to hold true to your word when the storm comes? BECAUSE A STORM WILL COME!


My Promise

on the beach

“You remember this girl, don’t you?
Cause she remembers you, and she’s pregnant too.”
The words split through my ears,
Giving way to plunging fears.
“They know who the father is,
A boy named you is who it is.”
I felt my head start to whirl, How could it be?
Couldn’t remember anything, ‘tween her and me.
“Really?” I looked around, and took in the stares.
All around me, disapproving glares.
I was kicking myself inside, how could I do such a thing
But the problem was, once you’re in, you’re in.
I vaguely remember the rush of her hair,
The tan skin, and freckles so fair.
Now I heard the adults speak and let their views go
They fought back and forth, and finally, lo.
“We’ll put the baby up for adoption.” They finally agreed
But something had planted in my heart, a little seed.
Packed my bags and jumped on a train
Pushing on, despite their demands.
Somewhere far away, I could see her all alone,
Carrying a precious bundle inside, all on her own.
Something deep inside me was crying out.
Something telling me to make it right.
Can’t fix what happened so many nights before,
But I can change that which does now come afore.
I stand at her front door, knocking now.
No retreat left. Can’t back down now.
I see her beautiful face, appear in front of me
And beneath her clothes, a little bump I can see.
In the middle of this storm, she’s so frail and tired,
Wishing someone would care, that the accusers would retire.
Her haunted eyes look up, tortured at me, she asks why I’m here.
I can see that her lips quiver, now as I draw near.
“Hey Missy, I know what they all say, but I’ve come here to stay,
I want to be the father of my baby. I promise I won’t go away.”
I was trying so hard not to cry, not to give away my emotions inside
But she was breaking down in tears, with feelings she couldn’t hide.
I wrapped my arms around her, as I felt her sob.
“They want to take him away, and he’s not even born.”
I could feel her fuelling my fire. As now I stood tall,
Faced those who would tear us apart, “It ain’t gonna happen at all!”
I turned, put my arm around her trembling shoulders,
And together we walked away, now stronger and older.
Whispered in her ear, “I love you, there ain’t another.
Those who would, won’t separate me from you ever.
That baby’s mine, and I will be there for him.
This is my choice, my promise, not just a whim.”
All around, did the sceptics and critics cry,
We raised our hands, together, them we will defy.
Can’t change what happened in the past, but we can the now.
The shaping of our future, is the here and now.

Story Behind the Poem:

Ok, what is it about me you don’t know?! Relax, this is not actually based on something that happened to me. Ok, it is. It’s based on a dream I had last night that felt so real, I woke up thinking it actually happened! I don’t really need to tell you what the dream was about, since this poem sums it up. And believe it or not, this poem runs almost exactly to the same tune as my dream did. No kidding.

Anyway, the difference between the dream and my poem, is that my poem is bringing a message. The message of this poem, is that while we cannot change what happened, we can change, to a certain extent, what will happen through our actions. Just because we make a mistake, doesn’t mean we have to dwell on it. We need to push on and change it for the better.

“Don’t cry over spilt milk.”

“A mistake doesn’t have to be final.”



photo by

Love You More

Twas 12 am, in the soft of the night,
12 am in the glow of a lamplight,
When you whispered, “I love you more.
You love me, but i love you more.”
I still remember feeling my heart melt.
Still remember the warmth i felt.
That someone loved me despite my mistakes.
That someone was messaging me, to say hello ‘fore i was awake.
The reassuring touch of your hand;
You pushing me over into the sand.

For once in my life, I found myself living a dream

Or so it seemed,

But as i finally found, your words were an illusion:
All part of a delusion.
As the rot which had long set made you break,
And suddenly, my little world was left in your wake.
I found myself gazing into space-
Wondering how one can say ‘i love you more’ to the face
Then break and run
Spurning the said and done.
My puppy love suddenly was faced with a rude awakening,
As i discovered how it  feels to have your heart breaking.
All throughout, i remembered that night, “i love you more.”
I finally realise you just said it then, but didn’t mean it at all-
When you said “I love you more.”
Didn’t know you didn’t mean it at all.

Sometimes I wonder if you loved me ever,
And at times I wish you never.
I no longer know if what you said,
You actually really meant.

If there ever was a time when you loved me,

I just can’t see how it could be.
But i loved you, still love you like before,
And sadly i’ve come to see: i love you more

Love you more . . . .


Story behind the poem:

Well, I don’t think there’s much to say. I got the idea to this poem while at work. Wrote it that night in the middle of a pretty difficult time. This poem is dedicated to Chik.

“When it’s all said and done, there’s more said than done.”