Summer days and heatwaves
Sweat pouring down our skin
Working hard no time to rest
From the time the day begins.

Bailing hay without a shade
Not a single cloud insight
Gathering all the barely corn
We work until the night.

we have a little hideaway
A place down in the vale
Its where we drink some scrumpy
Along with beer and ale.

We while away  an hour or more
Depending on how we feel
We rest and take it easy
No sound from the tractors wheel.

Now tomorrow is another day
Our work load it will keep
We may be striming hedge grows
Or we may be shearing sheep.

But we really are not bothered
We've been farmers far too long
We carry out our dutys
And sometimes with a song.

Our lives are hard but simple
We are living the country life
Away from the city and the fumes
From cars and such alike.

You see we have this hideaway
A little place down in the vale
So come along and join us
At the end of a farmers day

There are hearts that break
in silence, with tears
that nobody can see.

So maybe,
                just maybe…

Some tears demand
to be written by the poet's pen,
so others can find beauty
in that which makes us cry.

Maybe,
           just maybe…

The tears of the poets' pen,
unveils the beauty
of love and pain
giving comfort to others
that they’re not alone.

And then again
maybe,
          just maybe…

There will be times
that nobody
will understand your feelings…

Write them anyway
because they are still
so **** beautiful!!*
~

We're almost touching.
we were walking side by side,
you're talking about cabs in your hometown.
I can feel the gravity of your hand, calling my fingers
whispering "it's alright."

We're touching but not quite.
you held my shoulder to protect me from the passing cars.
and for the first time in a long while, I felt so fragile.
In this world where I find it hard even to breathe,
you believed me.

I almost said it.
All I need is one ounce of strength to tell you every single thing that I have ever felt about you.

I want to find home in your collarbones.
Would you be kind enough to let a stranger in?
I want to seep in your being because I'm cold.
The world is harsh and my cracks are aching.

Almost.

Many sages across the ages,
have sought for a way to define love.
They came up with books of many pages,
many of which were for the wages.

As I wallow in the depth of its definition,
Let this line caress your imagination.
As we worship in the sanctuary of affection,
Let the rivers of passion inspire our decisions.

Love is an attraction,
The earth is held to its orbit by an attractive force.
Can we say love holds the earth?

Love is unjust,
It doesn't act according to contract
It steps in where duty demands
and fight till the end without retreat.
Oh love endures!

Love is not a word,
It acts from the depth of its compassion.
Love doesn't grow old,
It rekindles with every smile, touch and shared passion.
Love will lead you home,
no matter how far you've strayed into the arms of fallacious propagation.
Love will give you warmth,
when cuddled by the frost of discrimination.
Love will be your temple,
irrespective of your religious affiliation.