I was thinking how life passes,
How each day I miss you more.
Life is not an easy slumber,
Things do often go astray,
We are shaken by black thunder,
When our Love has gone away,
And we know the dying roses,
Won’t be coming back in May.
I was thinking how life passes,
How each day I miss you more.
Life is not an easy slumber,
Things do often go astray,
We are shaken by black thunder,
When our Love has gone away,
And we know the dying roses,
Won’t be coming back in May.
The broken hills,Of no tomorrow.
For precious light, sereneSo rarely felt or seen,I delve into sweet Poetry,The Arts that have no scheme,I look for Nature’s beauty,The peace that’s born within,And try to hide,From human tide,Where only tempests win.
A FeelingThat becomes,Healing.
Just look,Around you,At all the pain,Murders and DeathPolitical disgustPlanted,In the Eagle’s nest,But if you loveAnd have someoneWho loves you,There is nothingYou can’t do,Even having, a nice day,And helping others, too
I want to know what makes you tic,What makes you grow and grow,With fondness in my heart,Your image now is not enough,I want to know your Soul,I want to know of you, the All,Your every feeling, great and small.That is what Love is,To love the exterior just won’t do,Love’s rivers run so deeply thru,They must…
The Tribal flux,Looks for no acquittal.Today we are no different,Than all the Others,The Country is living,Its saddest hours…