Not a thousand dreams
a few will well suffice
turn not away from the sorrows of others
help wipe away teary eyes

I share the joys of happy people
but sad faces do linger long in my mind
--a few dreams of compassion suit me well--
from a tender age my loving  mother taught me to be kind

FIRST LOVE

I buried my wild youthful dream
In the sand of a faraway shore
I promised myself
Never to return there any more.

Time had taken flight on relentless wings
I thought I was brave and strong
Still that dream returned to haunt
Like the endless echo of a melancholic song.

Once she said she loved me
Begged that I would not abandon her
‘  You are my heart’s content, my solace
Believe me--I will love you forever’.

How fragile and forgetful is love
Who knows its inconstancy?
Love that betrays murders the heart
‘ La Dame Sans Merci’.

Who knows the secrets of the heart?
Is love an illusion and fantasy?
Who knows the how and why
Of that which is life’s most profound mystery?

Explain it  if you may
You would need words to cover
The whole sky and the widest sea
It would be wise not to endeavour.

I am dying, dying now
And that distant shore speaks to me
You must return before your last sunset
Perhaps, perhaps, you will be set free.

Lost between a daydream and a trance, feeling through a warm summers night rain dance.

Many words can make a story true, but words do not always show the real you.

Not always what we see is a thought, learning how to truly feel was never taught.

One can always hide behind what they say, but the emotions in the words can give you away.

A trained heart will know where to look, not a subject to be found inside a book.

One must search for how to feel, part of the lost art of telling what is real.

Ever surrounded by white light that I unfurl from my heart and mind, a blanket of great protection where evil cannot find.

The souls that I keep sacred and perfectly safe and sound, by building the brightest sphere high in the sky and deeper in the ground.

With the heart of my will I set this light with my intention, to hold the negative at bay from every single direction.

The fire in my being will never let this white light burn away, for it will always protect us through the night into the day.

In the still of silence hovers beauty of a smaller kind, the type you want to touch and hold to keep for all of time.

But she cannot be kept save in the memory of a dream, lost in a gorgeous vision with wings holding rainbow gleam.

The sweet and sensual body locked in the passion of an eye, blessed to witness her stunning beauty before we age and die.

Blue wings of this Dragon hold me spellbound in her sight, making me wish I could transform and fly away with her into the night.

But I am a mere mortal to this flying goddess I adore, if I can only look at her then I will always be left wanting more.

it was on a saturday night when I first saw you
a party filled with all kind of strange faces, friends and maybe enemies..

you told me I was special, a work of art with eyes that could tell a story
he wanted to know everything about me, it was scary yet warming..
what I adored in life and why, what made me cry, what made me smile

he wanted to know about the things I feared most, my demons, angels
the stories about how I always get way too drunk and the reasons why
the scars on my wrists and the tattoo on my back, like everything..

her darkness was bright like the moon and the stars in the sad sky
but she always shined like the sun, she was so full of life and beauty

it was just like the nights before, the music was smashing , it was loud
we had way too much alcohol in our veins more than was good for us
you were craving for my attention and there were moments I gave in..
he smiled this cheeky smile sweet but dangerous, my heart jumped
he was charming but oh so mysterious..

you were there in the club, in my mind and in my heart
and darling you looked so beautiful with the lights shining on you
and I was missing you so much even though you were next to me ..

I can hear your voice when Im laying in my bed, when its dark
oh baby I can hear your voice every where but I wanted his instead

I always heard you cry at night and I knew it always was because of me

maybe I do have a jet black heart.

Lyric night of the lingering Indian summer,
Shadowy fields that are scentless but full of singing,
Never a bird, but the passionless chant of insects,
Ceaseless, insistent.
The grasshopper’s horn, and far off, high in the maples
The wheel of a locust slowly grinding the silence,
Under a moon waning and warn and broken,
Tired with summer.
Let me remember you, voices of little insects,
Weeds in the moonlight, fields that are tangled with asters,
Let me remember you, soon the winter will be on us,
Snow-hushed and heartless.
Over my soul murmur your mute benediction
While I gaze, oh fields that rest after harvest,
As those who part look long in the eyes they lean to,
Lest they forget them.