It’s in the rain,
It’s in the sunshine,
It’s in the dewdrops on the roof.

It’s in the tall grass
When the wind blows
That’s all I need as proof.

It’s in the clouds above,
The ground below,
The red of leaves,
The white of snow,
The violent ocean,
The mellow stream,
It’s in everything it seems.

Your eyes

Your face

In every place.

In times of darkness, fear and strife,
Our guardian angel brings us light,
A flame eternal, burning bright,
Guiding us through day and night.

With wings of love and watchful eyes,
Our protector from the skies,
Forever by our side it stays,
In its care, we find our ways.

No storm can quench this sacred fire,
No force can dim its heavenly ire,
For in our hearts it will reside,
Our guardian angel, by our side.

Is it wrong
to go through
day by day
and barely speak a word?

.
.
.
Everyone else is just
so loud.
I can't be heard anyway

I've learned
that I
almost like
being ignored.

Most people leave me alone.
Maybe I like it better this way.

Or did I just get good
at ignoring my loneliness?

she is wrapped in the most beautiful linen

white silks

moonlit satin

a soft figure enveloped by their beauty

delicate hands

groomed fingernails

dark eyes

wet hearts

her power takes my breath away

i look up and


she is no longer a pseudonym

she is only the moon

i finally let you go

For we did sometime wake
In the half lit day
Half dressed,
Half a-smile, half asleep
Deep in languor where we lay
With wooly eyelids
To be kissed gently.
So helping ourselves to each other
Until we both were empty.
And the light halved in soft refrain;
Became a painting desiring a worthy frame.

Beauty they say, is
Symmetrical perfection,
Flawless as the deep blue sea
Radiant as the sun's grin

Beauty _I say  is,
The flower blooming in serenity
With its delicate beautiful petals
****** to the eyes of the world
It's aesthetic appeal misunderstood by the majority
  
          Beauty I  say,
Is all what makes you different from them,
    All what makes you an emerald and them the background colour,
        
Beauty I say, is all the different pieces glued together to make you.

Beauty   they   say,
Is seduction to the eye,
Is the calm ambiance
   Is the mesmerising sunset
  that all eyes fumble to adore.    

Beauty I say,
Is the vibrant spirit you owe,
                   Is the tiring  maze that makes you a piece of art.
Is that wild storm that makes my eyes attracted to your presence.

You write uh... good.
Even gooder than me.
Er- Better?
You make me lose my words,
Especially when thinking about you.
Maybe I can’t draw you,
But I can write.
And in my mind, I picture:
You and me.
Together.