( sonnet )*

With looks she is keeping, so rare,
Fruitful eyes in red boughs of hair,
Hands for reaching into the winds,
Breaths gasping of new beginnings,
With looks she keeps this time at bay,
Of new days dreaming, slipped away,
Here the strung, fey huntress will go,
A flung goddess and her quivering bo,
When flowers greet the sun and wave,
In bright meadows of blossoms made,
With looks she is keeping, nows alive,
Heartwoods of longings boxed inside,
How many suitors for beauty to hold—
When gusty old age so soon enfolds?

~There will come
a moment when we
will step into a light
equivalent to all our
days~

Oh,My Love.
How heavy these days without the light from your window,
How heavy these hours without you.
Your disappearance severe blow,
Who has led my soul to blackness
Dusty wind blew out my fragile happiness.

Ours swing remained unnecessary to anyone,
They do not bring more inspiration
Nor thine,neither me.
Now the night for me at it as if dead.

How run away thence?!
How do i find you?!
If i see you even just once,
Even if mainly cloudy,
In my heart will be sunny.

I will soak up the rays of light,emanating from you
And one last once recognize the long-awaited feeling of joy.
Your eyes are blue...
My beloved sweet boy...

Be happy,be love..
But what a pity,that you can not take this from me,
Therefore i write octave,
My torment, my eternal love.
Don't leave me....

So hard to paint
on a canvas that is already white
mixed with love and tears
mixed in with mixed up words
must be the fumes
when I feel like this
I shut down my senses
and my nose bleeds
white powder paint


L        O         V        E

P@ul.