An egg, boiled fresh
a matryeshka doll watches
                                                     somewhere the last train
                                                     makes it's way down the tracks
past the lakes
& the reticent pine trees

                                                          ­            the street lamps
                                                           ­           shine wearily

                                                        ­                                        & again, the rain
                                                            ­                         is starting up once more
she reads Kurt Tucholsky
' Schloss Gripsholm' with a dictionary

                                                     ­                     writing down his odd words  
                                                                ­       daintily as if they were glass,  
not to be handled
except lightly                                                          ­          the city holds her
                                                             ­                              like a child

Nightfall, dark with planets
cold desolate sky home
stars amid nebulous winds swirling
cool icing, caked in frozen states
cynosure of volatile fates
the fiery red that melts blue
tonight a slow float of milk clouds
a diaphanous transient veil
drifts its way across
the moon so pale.

Scratched letters among  fragile pages
Echoing the  melody that is so ageless
I heard them once and still remember:
The song of forest rivers in November

And far -away birds' bittersweet ring
Reflected from mind in sudden swing  ;
A handful of warmth in cold winter
I carried in a heart, -  my love's splinter.

Let tears exhibit feelings as beautiful
As lost of them made present dreadful
Do not know why  I was given to you,
But I let the road lead me as you did too.

Don't be quite- paint a sky on a window
And will be new sunrise on old meadow.
Beyond the horizon the promised place ,
Where fluffy clouds move in swift pace-

It's all what I will take there with me
It's all what I will let after me to be.

I am surrounded by night, windless
hot as fever, even more troubled
the places I've called home, abandoned
along with everyone, days in a desert alone
I speak to no one, only the sky
the night moon, my mother
whispers in metaphor
something brilliant
I tremble, quiver
in time with
the stars.

An emporium full of visual delights, moonbeams bounce and dance, around a pitted cloud clear site.

A shooting star shining, a whooshing sound if heard, lights the sky as it blazes bright, starting in the east, accelerating, disappearing out of pleasured sight.

Stars blaze illuminating dark, the galaxy forming its magical map of horoscopes in this glorious orb, Its North Star guidance for some who navigate upon our planet earth be it on land air or under the sea, a million or more miles the distance should we achieve the ability to or want to go see up close these glowing planets of rock, gas and ore.

Dying stars growing in their brightness, as if, a last attempt of holding life,
Glowing brighter than before their internal charges disperse, fading no longer able to ignite.

Dancing colours in the north and south, painted great abstracts wide and far,
Hues of fusing reds oranges yellows greens across dark blue,
Spectacular moments for those with time to sit, observe and view, these magical electrically charged special dancing hues.

Reflections distorting down below, hues shading, appearing blushed as oceans gush and light rides upon a moonlit magnetic heaving tide, a tide awaiting, a stage set for two

Only you can see the magic being created in front of misted, barely woken if open eyes,
Only you can see the rising spirits coming up to play upon the core of sphere,
Under the kaleidoscope twinkling melee filled bustling sea and sky.

Rise up, a beckon, a call to you, come join this light filled orb of invisible tunes,
Where a piano plays a serenade and the orchestra complements with
Soft sounds of Trombones, cello’s, violins, tuba’s, drums and flutes
A tempo set to sweep excited people off their seat and on into their dancing shoes

Rise up in your sparkly dancing dress and shoes for you are floating Imagination growing with every timeless move

Twinkling stars blinking approval, reflections in the agreeing tide as it ebbs and flows.

Rise up, move, dance, sway, step and jump to those imaginary magical tunes
A prince of darkness, a dreaming queen  
A loving scene, a glory electrically charged night time dancing dream.