Entwine,
I ryhme
a word like vine
flowering a flower
on every line
forming to fruit
found from the root
of every thought
of my mind

A Tree
Sat steadily at the centre of an endless field.
Never still.
Its branches grow, then fall.
From nothing, to green, then only decay,
Even the leaves come and go.
Yet, always there sits a shadow, constant behind the everblooming oak.

A boy fiddles with an apple as he sits within the shade.
He does not wander, only sits and plays,
Gnawing away at the fruits born.

awake
and he takes a look out of the window to the street which is far below him, the day hasn't quite got down there yet, perhaps the day remembers regret.
ha
but the fox barks from somewhere in the park and a car screeches past, some are too fast for their own boots, I'm fast but the Owl,
faster still.
hoots,
another sage friend to keep me company, to watch me, to
warn me that Tuesday has arrived.

Your vision will lie ,
But your mind has eyes
And the biggest scream
speaks to you through poetry
To challenge your perspective,
whether you believe in the word or not
especially when you’re lost in ignorance
so that you can see reality perfectly clearly