in a field of long grass,
bronzed by the gold's of the sun,
the wildflowers grow,
far from the blue mists of the sea,
dark root and thundering air,
the hawthorns blossom silently
they are everywhere, white clouds
like drops of moon against the sky
as if the lonely dance of the skies
was a heart-beat, was your love,
as if the sky could not be more beautiful
with the sun, the wildflowers and your love.
the woods are never quiet,
like a sea they sing to the wind,
the birds carry the leaves to the sky,
they whistle and dance,
their voices weave through the woods
each song-thrush like a small storm,
the skies drift forever,
the honey sun rises and falls,
you ground me like an anchor,
pull my head out of those poet clouds.
A little flower in a garden
waiting for her great lover
knows she is too little
for him to notice her.
Whatever snow or rain,
the long of the night,
stretching towards the sky,
wishing on the stars.
She'll show her smile
to say "Hi" to his light.
The sun shines so bright,
never thinks " She is mine".
But the flower never lies
when she'll wait for him
till she dies.