lemon tree
colourful as the sun
the citrus flavour
made into candid peal
added to drinks
making lemonade
mixed into a cake
or squeezed onto sandwiches
dreams of Sicily
Category: change
when the sun fades
when the sun fades
signals the end of day
night makes an appearance
the shapes of the clouds disappear
replaced by the stars
the light of the moon across the sky
tells of stories of the sun
as the trees sway in the breeze
the animals come out to hunt
their shadows dancing across the ground
pursuing the right to dominate the nightlife
See: Footprints in time
Generations in the making
well trodden are these ways
footprints in time leave a path
for the chosen few to follow
along the plain and streams
bridges across rivers
over hills and mountains
different cultures of people
all colours of the rainbow
on an average day
on an average day
the sky changes
different clouds move
the sun peaks through
the garden is green
still wet from the rain
I sit at my computer
listening to music
and write my feeling down
content in my well being
Raised by Wolves
take shelter from the gathering storm
we wait for it to pass
but we know in our hearts
fear prevails
as our surroundings darken
a path is found within
to lead us away to safety
what remains
cannot be unbroken
like a child
fragile to begin with
then as strength returns
so shall we find in ourselves
the depth of courage
against disparity
and awaken a truth
a burden of which we carry
swallow
swallow
fly away home
always reaching
new destinations
the call of spring rings true
as do the leaves of autumn
when summer has gone
and winter has come
parting of the ways
leave behind sweet memories
of bygone days
Time in motion
passages of time
placed across the embers
set in motion
the wheels turn
dancing light
a gathering storm
the falling rain
the path well trodden
place to be
beside the willow tree
celestial showers
celestial showers
when angels wept
and the stars have fallen
of what is written
reminds me so
of memories
beauty’s trap
to be spoken of softly
the words of which
I feel somehow
cannot wait to express
a lovers tenderness
Love is a paradox
Love is a paradox
when ones feelings
are not of your own
but a fabrication
of society
this reality
is a manifestation of being
a recreation of essence
a parting of the way
the substance of which
echoes through
beyond all borders
the paths which we follow
to find true love
Butterflies
butterflies in love
on a spring morning
dancing across the garden
colours of orange and brown
a playful unison
natures way of saying
I love you
