Please don't tell me there is hope, I woke up this day and learnt how to coupe. The dreams you sold me, they don't exsist. You promised me a new and better life, well you lied! If I stayed, I would have lost my soul. So now I will pay the toll, and get going on. For I feel a cold breeze coming on. |
I found my-self in a crowded room on an empty bed. I can still see and feel you in everything that moves and in everything I do. I know every line of your flesh and blood, wondering what I have done! But I can still feel you.... |
Looking in your eyes, seeing all I need.. Looking in your heart, knowing what you are to me. I could not ask for more, then what I have in you... When I am here with you and you here with me... I've found, all I've waited for... How could I ever ask for more? |
I wake at the dawn.... wondering what you dream? I stare at the smooth, aged, familar lines of your darkened sillouette of your body that is shaddowed by the night. Do you still dream of me? Are those long past memories of us still awake in the attic of your dreams? How shall I unlock and know for sure if they are of me? Yet I lay unable to sleep... just drifting off to our wonder years,, And realizing ,,it will be alright. |
Silence..I hear, as I stand on the top of the wind blown sand hill. God, how I can almost touch the stars in this clear night. "I see an image of angels in the distance, or is it just the desart playing games with me?" I ask my-self... "I feel so at ease in this sand of sea" I hear the beat of my heart and feel my soul floating away in this desart night... I think...."Oh, of my life, and how I wish I could grow wings to take me to the stars." ..But still I am alone,,,,,,I look up and think,,,,"All of this is me?" Then I know, I can reach the stars |
Page 2 of art and poems |
Moissons celestes L'horizon est lointain, Plus loin encore l'espace Le ciel est serein, La lumiere irradiant Et de la terre Monte une sainte chaleur.... Sensationnel spectacle, Les vagues jaunes que le vent gonfle Flots ondoyants Spectacle depassant toute description.... A perte de vue Etendue jaune ou le ciel se reflete Ou le soleil se couche Et ou le tmps s'etend..... Champs d'inspiration, Le soleil ci-bas en fait une nourriture Couleurs, couleurs a l'infini, Couleurs rebelles.... Dans ce lac d'or, Des leur humains oeuvrent Et le soir, les moines, De leur cloitre, Se repand un chant melodieux Immense lac Objet de mes actes Lac d'eau.... Non!!!! Lac de ble... |