The sunlight wakes me in the morning The atmosphere around us paints it blue The birds are singing in the morning The nature made them fly for you The mind is gentle without warning The days and nights that I’ve been through The summer ends while I’m still yawning The northern winds will be here soon To some the world is still dawning To me the earth sings a dying tune I live a simple life in watching I live because survival is a colour that returns us to something new.
I am a poet through and through and anyone that tells you different you must deny it and slap them across the face very roughly indeed. I love the normal things in life and turning them into mysterious meaningful emotionally attached fascinating object or subjects.
A New Dawn Justice Eluded her But she was On Run Till last gasp But soon surrounded The foul air Lies and deceit Confusion thicken With Past ,pre past links of delinked Whither the path? Now energy lost Treading forward
Count your blessings you’re still here it’s 2018 another wonderous year. 2017 has passed us by ain’t it truly funny how time can really fly. Was 2017 a scream or just routine? Did it make you hoot and holler, kept
’tis a playing field for many kinds out in the arena, to discern the companionship of the puissant sun ’tis a hot, new summer day , blithe and sound maketh thou run, run, run… syrupy voice of nightingale, fills candied
That fugitive dream of shrinkage: a room in a room a door in a door. You were hurting the house affairs at midnight. The space accident starts dismanteling the life. Selective pain comes again. You start distancing from story touch,
This day of sixty fruitful weeks shadow pristine relics of bundled keepsakes adorned in obsolete gazettes of passing snow storms, puppy training and next door’s junk mail. Transition logs re-call six states, five military orders, four duty stations, six rusted