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Jun 2012 · 654
The Tale Of A Tree
I want to be a tree... reaching high up into your heaven... rooting deep into your heart...
Feb 2012 · 762
DAMNED ROMANCE
Call it a curse, whatever
It hurts me so good
I'm trapped between good and bad

Call it a romance, anything
Would it still be romantic if it takes lives?

Call it a love poem, maybe.
Why do i feel ***** reading it out loud?

Call it haunting, right.
Maybe it is indeed.
Why am i not afraid?

Call it erotica, oh yes.
Why haven't i hit the ****** yet?

You are so beautiful it's so painful to love you...
Feb 2012 · 752
The Lovely Stream
Enjoyment and love by the water
We, blanketed in the sweet scent of sunset
As the world and daylight sever
Pouring our bare feet into grass of velvet

Vanilla skies reflected in the water
We stare deep like never
Benighted yet radiant and true
As the moon lights and seeps through you

Another kiss to another song
In every melody and pleasure
Ever so kind and fond
Like a precious treasure

We merge into a song
That i sing to your heart

''Come shine and light me
Like a twinkle in your eyes
As you stand on my bank before the starry water
Ever so fair ever mine''
This poem is dedicated to Lily Mae. I am you, you are me, we are one...
Oct 2011 · 680
Our Story
Perfectly touched, intimacy here in this very room you could never wait to rush into, lit only by candles, wrapped up in our winter blanket.
Several glasses of wine to go, and story after story by midnight.
Touch after touch...
Never laughed without thoughts of tomorrow...
I could never lit my cigarettes without flashes of the fire in your eyes burning our nights away...
It's your perfume merging with the scent of the pine walls that always brought me here...
Bed and sheet you could always fall into...

I felt safe here with my fingers running through your hair...
Through the homesickness on your face...
Mere as it was yet deeply comforting...
The only thing that lingered on without your presence...
Sep 2011 · 541
STOP ME I'M A MAN
She says follow me
I do like a puppy.
She says stop
I don't.
She says what do you want?
I say you
She says but you have to stop
I say stop me then
She says i can't. You're a man
I say you can. You're a woman.
Aug 2011 · 1.1k
Rock Of Fergus
Wine and cigarettes all i have in vain
But nothing comes close to ease my pain
Winter has frozen my pale fingers
As i walk and linger
My father's last words flew through my heart
As he touched my face and i cried to never part
The wood floor creaked as i walked
The walls shattered as i talked
He said the old house is alive
I knew it when it was so quiet at night
Whenever i said my flat prayers to Christ

I did not come back for melancholy of my boyhood friends
As memories have always been in the right places to suspend
Like cold brief kisses shared before goodbyes
Struggling for never ending happines to come by

Autumn came when i was still deep in slumber
Tucked up innocent in his warm chamber
Whenever i opened my eyes again he was there
Watching out the window, looking so fair

There were nights when the ferry docked
And those distinct shapes in the mist outside i could not make out
There he went away
Ferried over so far away
As i did to him likewise now
Aug 2011 · 1.3k
The House Of The Dead Fairs
The Sycamore trees... They have their own stories... They have seen much... Heard much... Known much... Witnessed much...

The house was built in 1807 by Reuben McFerguson for his irish wife. McFerguson was a retired scottish  teacher who moved to Ireland to start a new life. They got married in 1805 in Edinburgh. Living a hard life in Edinburgh they decided to move to Kilkenny. There he built her a house which would later be known as The Sycamore. In 1809, three years after the sudden move, their baby boy was born. The only son they ever had. They named him Aindreas Crióstoir McFerguson (anglicized Andrew Christopher Ferguson). Andy grew into a quiet young man. Two weeks after his
21st birthday in 1830, his father died of lung cancer. Despite being so young, he had to take the responsibility for taking a good care of  the house and his mother. Andy was indeed a good looking young man. His being quiet was considered his *** appeal by many. Nobody knew or even had the slightest idea about his troubled soul.
One night he invited a young girl to dine with him. After his mother went to bed, he took the poor girl into the basement and then strangled her to death. He hid the body in one of the barrels of wine. The next two nights he invited two girls again. One girl each night. Killed them in the basement and hid the bodies in the barrels. He killed two more in the attic. His mother lived her days till she died, 7 years after the killings, never knowing about five bodies hidden in the house.
After his mother's death, Andy lived like a ghost. He barely slept and visited his parents' graves regularly three times a week. In 1839, At the age of 30, he married Rachel Moore, whom he met at church (When he met her, he'd been regularly going to church every week to become closer to God). They had two daughters, Marie and Johanna and a son, Jeremy. Each born in 1841,1843,and 1847. Due to The Great Famine, they rented out the house to be used as a temporary mortuary until the famine ended in 1850.
In 1852, being haunted by his crime, and the need (which kept coming back) to **** again, Andy ended his own life by hanging himself in the basement. His wife sold the house and moved to Belfast with her children.
In 1857, Mr.Lowell, the man who bought the house, decided to renovated it. His workers found the bodies of the five women. They also found Andy's old journal and then learnt of how the killings happened. Knowing that Andy's wife had nothing to do with the killings, they didn't bother asking her at all.
In 1884, Andy's son, Jeremy moved back to Kilkenny and bought the house back from Mr.Lowell's son. Another renovation and then (which was already known as 'The house of the dead fairs') 're-occupied', the house was once again owned by a descendant of its first owner.
Jeremy had five children. His oldest son, Matthew inherited the house.
In 1922, Jeremy passed away. Before he died he asked Matthew to take a really good care of the house. Though later Matthew sold the house to an english doctor, his son Reuben bought it back in 1938. Reuben's son, Patrick, from his second marriage, was born in 1950. Armand, another son was born in 1954. At the age of 19 Patrick converted to catholicsm and then became a pastor. Armand moved to Carrickfergus and married a girl he met there in 1980. Armand had three sons. In 1989, three days before christmas, Armand was killed by some unknown men who broke into his house. After his son's death, Reuben moved to his wife's hometown, Edinburgh. Blaming Armand's wife for Armand's death, Reuben never tried to make any kind of contact with her.
In 1990, Reuben and his son's widow reconciled.
He asked her to move back to Kilkenny. In 1994, Emma... Armand's widow.... My mother... Moved back to Kilkenny to occupy The Sycamore, The House..... and start a new life... And with Reuben's permission, she married his husband's cousin, Isaac Ferguson...
Aug 2011 · 795
Fionn and Morann
I walk my way down the hill
Boys of this town, once so alive and real
Long-expected, so fair and innocent
Walking the land with excitement

Hares and butterflies, nightmares and night skies
Their skins bare, hoping looks in their eyes

Night fell on their innocent banks
I cried as the moon sank
Where are my boys...
For i could not hear their loving voices

An empty room marked my longing
The cold autumn breeze caught my singing
My lullabies cold and frozen
For the path they had not chosen

Never grow up in my dreams
Just as the little stream
My boys swagger the day away
It is a long way
You were the only man i had always wanted to see
Walking down the road to the sea
Swaggering in your new jacket
Looking for fellas to bracket

In Carrickfergus they called you a robber
To me you were a handsome rover
Beautiful green eyes as the rolling hills
Your happy thoughts into me you had instilled

In Belfast you smuggled your hopes and fears
Slainté! You danced pints of beer away
Alas! They did not see your tears
You were on your own finding your way

My old friend, my sad handsome friend Patrick...
Alone you sang your weary songs and turned sick
I cried bitterly, nobody to lay you down
Summer,and you had no wheat to sow

Ah! You were so handsome and young
During summer days you smiled and cheered me up in my den
Calling out your name,i screamt at the top of my lungs.
You were gone....gone...you would never answer again
Apr 2011 · 497
Shadow
You are my shadow...
I can only see you in the dark...
Apr 2011 · 484
Run me......
Run me to the ocean...
The only place i see the world in motion...
As the sky merges with the sea overcoming my emotion...

Run me to the ends of the earth...
Where life means nothing but a dearth...
Where death means nothing but a mirth...

Run me to His Holy Mountain...
I need to find The Fountain...
Of emotion, sense, and answers...
Apr 2011 · 445
Midnight Lovers
The night you were in me i felt so alive...
The next morning i woke up to find myself in a different world...

I saw like you...
I breathed like you...
Smelt like you...
Thought like you...
Smelt like you...

*I can still smell your scent on me...

Mar 2011 · 749
Susanna (repost)
I can not forget the very first time i set eyes on you.
My heart was in a whirl as you mov'd closer to me.
Enchant'd may i have been, yet modest and true.
If i, wanton and impolite as i be, should have a fancy for 'ee,
I could have for my own eyes caused such a great pleasure.
For you were such a fair sight to the modest eyes.
Nay one man's eyes missed 'ee as swaggered.
J'ining the crowds, proud o' yourself med 'ee have been.
I miss those fair days, ol' Marygreen, by the weather spoiled were we.
'Twas i to seek 'ee, my being heart-tender, hurt to hope.
I oughtn't to hope for God's grace as you whisper'd my name,
Yet 'twas only what had troubled me.

My dear Sue, thine anger upon me was wanton.
As swiftly raged at me, unto me being surpris'd.
I love thee, may not i unto God be made
a saint.
Had i determined my course of action.
I could have been tolerable unto thine eyes.
My heart to pledge as of yore, yet torn and misled upon your path.
Alas! Don't 'ee charm-veiled come to conquer my heart as to setting about planning another journey not to be done.
Before God, and angels, though cast into agony,
'twas me unto whom you came when dark.
My Sue.... My dearest Sue....
Feb 2011 · 1.8k
Lovedrunk (repost)
A rose is not a rose until a woman picks it and places it next to her heart....
A song is not a song until a lover sings it to the earth and heaven.
A woman is not a woman until a man
finds her and makes her worth-loving.

You're the song that echoes in my heart.
You're the sound that beats in my body every day and night.
You're the light that shines inside my darkest dreams.
You're the colours of my energy.
You're the last chapter of a book i will be reading before i die.
You're the face i see whenever i close my eyes.
You're my shadow...

Everytime you move you take the beauty of this world with you.
You walk through the hallway of my heart and fill the empty spaces.
My love for you is a perfume i pour at your feet.
Unto heaven and earth i am made a poem
Read and sung i will remain for good

i am love-drunk for you
You are the vineyard of my youth
More i drink,more i feel
How this beauty you gives out i seek
Had we never gone home...
Had we never sung our songs...
Had we never loved to part...
Had we never cried so hard...

Here was i calling out for ye.
They could hear me from Malin to Dursley.
O me heart lost and blind.
Torn and misled through the years.

There in Kilkenny,by the water,
Kind as the hills yet cold as Moher's cliffs was me father.
'where are ye going o lonely rover...'
'had ye never been loved by yer lover...'

Sang he,a song of loss and loneliness...
'o yer eyes painted a thousand pictures of long journey,rolling hills,running streams,and rugged coastlines'
'o how i miss walking on that road down the hill to the sea'
'o ol' Erin,to ye i gave me heart a long time ago with tear'
Feb 2011 · 655
Come Back To Bed (repost)
Come back to bed...
Come back into my life...
Come back to me...

I miss you tonight...
There was a little boy named Andy...
He was only nine years old when he died...
They buried him under a willow tree...
His father was so sad that he went insane...
One night he went to his son's grave...
Dug him out quickly...
And carried him home on his shoulder...

He then made him a dummy...
Turned him into a wooden dummy...
Painted a stiff smile on his dead face...
Put his play outfit on him...
Sat him in his favourite chair...
In the living room...
Put some music on...

He has gone home...
He has gone home...

He sang so loud that he got tired and fell asleep...
In his dream he saw his son dancing...
Bouncing around...
Singing out loud...

When he woke up his dummy son had disappeared...
He was not in sight...
He sought for him all night long but he could not find him...
He did not know...
While he was asleep deep in his agony...
Somebedy broke into his house and stole his dummy son...
Sold it to a russian ventriloquist for a few pennies...

He cried all night long...
He went back to his son's empty grave...
Crying...singing his sad song of loss and loneliness and agony...
When he went back home...
He found his dummy son sitting in his favourite chair...
With two bleeding hearts beating on his lap...
The hearts of the man who took him away....and the russian ventriloquist...

His father blurted out his happiness....
Held his son's cold wooden body tight....
Stroking his grinning dead face gently...
His son sat back still...
He stood still...
He was just a dummy...
Just a wooden dummy...
Feb 2011 · 811
Carrickfergus (repost)
Across the water, away from here.
I had left my heart on the green.
Only sound of your shore i hear.
A glimpse of your waters i have seen.

In Belfast Old McCarthy sang his sad songs.
To lovers who had been waiting so long.
He walked on that long road down the hill to the sea.
He danced his songs away for us to see.

Carrickfergus, this longing i can not bear any longer.
In another town i sing like a lonely rover.
O ocean breeze fly me home i sing.
I miss to dance a fling.

My heart thumps like the sound of a bodhran.
Across the ocean my songs span this  flood of longing.
Before God and men alone i stand.
Serving you is my true calling.

I want to come home to see her.
Her hair radiant beneath the sun.
My love and songs i want to share.
Across the hills to her i will run.
One can miss one's hometown so badly
You were the only man i had always wanted to see
Walking down the road to the sea Swaggering in your new jacket
Looking for fellas to bracket

In Carrickfergus they called you a robber To me you were a handsome rover Beautiful green eyes as the rolling hills Your happy thoughts into me you had instilled

In Belfast you smuggled your hopes and fears
Slainté! You danced pints of beer away Alas! They did not see your tears
You were on your own finding your way

My old friend, my sad handsome friend Patrick...
Alone you sang your weary songs and turned sick
I cried bitterly, nobody to lay you down Summer,and you had no wheat to sow

Ah! You were so handsome and young During summer days you smiled and cheered me up in my den
Calling out your name,i screamt at the top of my lungs.
You were gone....gone...you would never answer again
To the man who taught me to see the beauty of a willow tree by the water
Feb 2011 · 559
Susanna
I can not forget the very first time i set eyes on you.
My heart was in a whirl as you mov'd closer to me.
Enchant'd may i have been, yet modest and true.
If i, wanton and impolite as i be, should have a fancy for 'ee,
I could have for my own eyes caused such a great pleasure.
For you were such a fair sight to the modest eyes.
Nay one man's eyes missed 'ee as swaggered.
J'ining the crowds, proud o' yourself med 'ee have been.
I miss those fair days, ol' Marygreen, by the weather spoiled were we.
'Twas i to seek 'ee, my being heart-tender, hurt to hope.
I oughtn't to hope for God's grace as you whisper'd my name,
Yet 'twas only what had troubled me.

My dear Sue, thine anger upon me was wanton.
As swiftly raged at me, unto me being surpris'd.
I love thee, may not i unto God be made
a saint.
Had i determined my course of action.
I could have been tolerable unto thine eyes.
My heart to pledge as of yore, yet torn and misled upon your path.
Alas! Don't 'ee charm-veiled come to conquer my heart as to setting about planning another journey not to be done.
Before God, and angels, though cast into agony,
'twas me unto whom you came when dark.
My Sue.... My dearest Sue....
Feb 2011 · 547
My Father's Story (repost)
My Father built the house with his own hands.
He loved all kinds of weather or season.
He built it to span the gap between his heart and ours.
He spent too much time fighting his country's enemies.
He was raised by a man with a heart as cold as rain in autumn.
He used to be a beautiful man who walked by the river every morning with his passion for life.
But time has cut some marks on his very skin.

My Father painted the house with his own hands.
He loved all kinds of colour.
He painted the house white to show his true feelings for us.
Many's the time he ran down the road.
Seeking for his own truth of life
With his cold breath he showed me the true meaning of becoming a man.

One frozen night,it was late. I couldn't sleep.
I looked through the window.
There was my Father.
Standing under a Willow tree...naked and cold.
He was staring into the vagueness of the night. Afraid,maybe.
In his nakedness he looked so perfect.
His sun-burnt skin emitting weak lights of his childhood memory.
Wrong or forbidden,his naked body was the most beautiful thing i had ever seen.
A naked body of a man whose heart could bear and hide his secret feelings for years.
My body was shivering with curiousity and adoration.

My Father...
I wish i had been the wind that you're standing against.
I wish i had been the cold rain that covered you unmercifully
I wish i had been the ground that you're standing on.
I wish i could have understood why and when...
I wish i could have known you a lot better
I wish i had read your heart as you had read mine.
Feb 2011 · 871
The Old Cemetery
When i was 7, we still lived in Carrickfergus, Northern Ireland. There was this old cemetary that every kid in the neighbourhood was afraid of. Being terribly rebellious i spent much time playing hide and seek there with my brothers. I remember coming across an old aging gravestone with an angel standing next to it. I thought to myself 'i want two angels to guard me when i die'. And all of a sudden the fog came down covering my sight and for a moment i thought i had lost my brothers. It was the scariest moment of my life. Suddenly i felt a cold hand resting on my left shoulder. I turned around... To my surprise... There was my father, smiling at me vaguely. He found me.
'No boy your age should be wandering alone in a cemetary' he said.
I took his hand and kissed it gently, held him so tight. He bent down to kiss me back. Then we walked among the gravestones in silence, with the fog swirling round us like ghosts. I was holding his hand tight all the way back home. I was thinking, so was he. But i knew we knew what the other was thinking.

My father...
Feb 2011 · 446
Tonight's Miracle (repost)
We are standing before the world.
Hand in hand, touching as it gets cold. Reflection of the moon in your eyes.
The lights of the universe are seeping through our souls as we arise.

We sit by the lake still.
You are naked and radiant.
With the moonlight poured down from heaven on your skin.
In so many ways you make me feel.

You are tonight's miracle.
You hold my hand and whisper
''Don't drive me home tonight...''

I smile.
There was a tree by the river.
There he used to stand alone like a rover.
Touching the water with such a longing.
Emitting his true love and feelings.

Last leaves of autumn were falling.
And he breathed the sweetness of the air as he swaggered along the river.
He said his grace as snow started to fall.
Like a million stars of silver.

I found his footprints in the snow.
I followed him among the blackening trees into the forest.
I saw him standing there by the water and i had always known.
Among these trees, by the river he wanted to rest.

He turned around and stared at me for a while.
He walked closer toward me and smiled.
I felt happy as if i had caught a hare with my own hands.
He carried me on his shoulder as he ran.

I felt his hair on my face.
I felt his heartbeat as we raced.
I felt such a child's whim.
I felt myself in him.
Paddy you're one of the best here to find...you inspired us all...forever in our hearts
Feb 2011 · 575
Brand New Waves
Blue paradise under the drenched shade of rain.
Sand on my feet feels so real as i walk barefoot along the shore.
I want to believe that the universe is moving toward me.
I want to believe i can run to the ends of the ocean at speed of tachyons.
Crystal, waters, all green as far as i can see.
No poetries can capture the beauty that is swirling round before my eyes.
Brand new waves have come to enlightened my soul once again.
Like they always did
Beneath the surface i leave my footprints like watermarks.
I see what others can't
Colours of the world on hold forever.
To please the eyes of the earth's sons.
My body is emitting... reflecting...
My voice is synthesized, reformed.
Merging with the rhythm of the waves.
Once again...

I want to believe the colours of universe are in my sight.
I want to believe again.
Till the next waves come across me.
Feb 2011 · 563
While I Was Dancing
I walked myself to a night club because i was terribly weary.
I had a lot of wine with ice cubes and i did not feel sorry.
You weren't there you didn't see.
You didn't share you didn't feel.

My life was swirling around in a glass of red wine.
If i could've spoken only with vowel sound, i wouldn't have gone blind.
The song was good people were dancing.
Music was the food that i'd been seeking.

In the twilights of the dance floor i felt alone.
They could not see my core or where i belonged.
I held the empty air once again and embodied your present to dance with.
My sweatdrops were falling like rain as i danced the song away so weird.

Another year had gone by and you weren't there.
I didn't want to try as much as you didn't want to share.
Share your days with me like you always had before.
Though the man in me kept saying you were what i had been seeking for.

It was an american melody i danced away.
Just a cliché melancholy to drag me away.
From the man i had been.
From you that i had seen.

Was it the wine, the music, or me?
Run out of time, had i?

You weren't there...
You didn't see...
You didn't share...
You didn't feel...
Feb 2011 · 673
Walk Away
Empty hearts, cold faces.
Old tapering hands reaching out for ancient traces.
I feel old and delayed.
My face is gaunt in despair.

I have never walked so far away from myself before...
Jan 2011 · 781
Sleepless
I was in bed when you came in sight
You lay down and held me tight.
Kissed me as you carressed my hair gently.
And then you sang me goodnight heavenly.

And then you opened your eyes.
And suddenly you went wise.
You saw you had come home to the wrong one.
You got up fast and away i saw you run.

Apparently you realized it was not my turn that night.
I could not sleep though my eyes were closed tight.
Jan 2011 · 463
Fallen
Have you found your own reflection?
Looking back at you with such attention...
You stumble, looking for redemption...
Your heart was restless with hesitation...

Names...
Faces...
Places...

All forgotten...

How many times have you been seen...?
How many times have you fallen...?
Jan 2011 · 2.0k
Scandinavian Skies
The smell of the northern seas.
The song of the trees we feel.
Stars clutch at your feet.
Vague trance is where we meet.

Scandinavian skies, under the moon silky silver.
Into the blue we dance deeper.
Horizon lights gleam before my eyes.
Raging seas cold as ice.

Take hold of my drawing hand.
Weakly i ****** into the sand.
On the shore where waves crash.
Whom we made a rush.

Scandinavian skies set me free.
Scandinavian skies i lean on like a tree.
Silky crimson wrung through and preserved.
You write me a single sacred verse.
Jan 2011 · 797
In Waterford
Here in waterford shall i linger.
Swaggering, touching the ancient walls with my fingers.
Listening to the sound of the marching folks.
Daydreaming as they walk.

These walls are old as time.
Aging and forgotten to the churches' bells that chime.
Passages i walk through, among the lines of years.
While my burdens i bear.

Waterford, your trees have so much to tell.
They stare at me where they dwell.
Your river flows ancient stories that evaporate through time.
Soothing me everytime.
Jan 2011 · 451
The Lost Souls
Of all the souls wandering around.
Hers was the only one.
Taken away out of sight.
Dim, mine was slight.

Come sing me a song.
As every soul runs long.
Your story is yet to tell.
When you are in hell.

I see souls wandering around.
Distinct stories of life that surround.
Their feet hardly touch the ground.
I heard hardly any sound.
Jan 2011 · 542
An Invitation
I was so young and raw.
I did not understand everything i saw.
I saw her with her hands between her legs.
She kissed me gently as for more i was to beg.

I was just a kid.
I needed a good deed.

My feet were on the ground unsteadily.
She held me up as she touched me gently.
I was young and wild.
She was grown and mild.

I was just a young man.
To my blood's desire i was to run.

She took my hands and placed them on her *******.
I could feel the smoothness of her skin underneath her silk dress.
The heat of my blood was merging with her rhythm so wild.
She was grown and mild.

I was young and raw.
She had much to show.
I was stubborn and wild.
I saw invitation in her smile.

An invitation into her world.
Jan 2011 · 1.9k
Empty Street
I walk myself to a place i know.
I feel familiar as it shows.
I feel cold as i browse.
Into the darkness rocks i throw.

As it gets darker it gets colder.
City lights dance in a swirl of colours.
I feel and smell vague scents of people who were once here.
As if they were near.

No sounds no movements.
I feel no enjoyment.
Empty street, a cold night.
I have got nothing in my sight.

How many passed this way, these footprints.
Of some i know and am not acquainted with.
Empty street, i stand alone.
Empty street i fall on.
Jan 2011 · 665
When The Boys Come Home
She sits by her window everyday.
Waiting for her boys.
She has nothing to say.
Waiting for her boys.

She wakes up every morning just to look out the window.
Waiting for her boys.
Swirling around in the hall so narrow.
Waiting for her boys.

She prays every night to her sacred enlightment.
Waiting for her boys.
Wishing on a pure enjoyment.
Waiting for her boys.

Not the weak and vague scent of their presence hovering over her.

Till the day they come home safe and sound.
Till the day they come around.

Safe and sound.
Swirling around.

When the boys come home.
She will not feel lonesome.

And now waiting for her boys.
She collects their childhood toys.
To every mother whose sons have died in wars
Jan 2011 · 813
Roja Roja
Roja... Roja...

I watch her padding along The Sacred Ganges, so dreamy.
Looking all radiant in her red sari, satisfying my heart so weary.
For The Gods have embodied their most beautiful chant into you.
Like a bell that chimes in a distant soothing the night prayers so true.

Oh Roja....

You are the most sacred chant i have ever heard.
The most beautiful song i have ever sung.

For your heart is like a temple and i am a pilgrim in searching for peace and enlightment.
I am taking shelter from rain and sun in your enjoyment.

Roja... Roja...

I want to play my sitar and dance my songs away.
My songs would seep under your sari as i touch your skin in such a way.

My fingers would dance along the river of your shiny hair so deep.
Like a gentle summer breeze swirling through the leaves of a tree.

Roja... Roja...

My heart will dwell in your temple forever.
I will pour my songs at your feet and my journey i sever.
I was walking among the trees.
Looking through the sillhouette of the trees.
There stood a lonely willow before the river.
I saw the moon shimmering in the water.

What has got into me, i whispered.
Such a magic i beheld as i fell deeper.
The trees were alive and old .
Ancient lights were swirling round their branches so cold.

Was it the moon in the water i saw hypnotizing me...
Was it too dreamy to be...
Suddenly in my cupped hands this tiny little thing flapping i felt.
And my consciousness trembled to melt.

The willow tree was looking at me.
Ancient, old, and mysterious.
I stood there shaking like unconsciousness.
'Stumble to fall' he hissed.
what was mine was his.

Stumble to fall.
Stumble to fall.
Stumble to fall.

I went back home to find my Father's last breath.
Jan 2011 · 641
Bhoidheach
A misst ye sae muckle.
'tis achin' me ****** heart sae fragile.
Come wi's me, will ye nay.
Tae me shore o'er the ocean a' say.

Auld as time yet radiant.
Dancin' a fling me, cold and patient.
Ol' green cabres, leaves fallin' aff
On me shore, ye nay in sight.

Before th' auld red hoose a' stood still.
A glimpse o' sun o'er the ocean shinin' on me still.
Ye, nay in sight.
Me, seeking fae light.

A' sae misst ye, me heart.
Ye took yer path tae part.
Jan 2011 · 531
The One
You're the second person who touched my lips...
Carressed my hair....
Looked me in the eye so deep...
Kissed me so gently and true...
Touched my body so passionately...

But you're the first  who touched my heart...
Jan 2011 · 3.7k
GOODNIGHT
Don't you fall asleep.
Don't you dream too deep.
Before i come home.
Trying to find way home i have roamed.
To kiss you goodnight.
And hold you tight.
Jan 2011 · 640
The Story Of A Willow Tree
I really loved the willow tree in front of our house.
We used to climbed it together for hours.

My Father taught me how to climb the willow tree.
Tighten my grip, strong and steady.
I saw the green leaves reflected in his eyes.
Ever since then i had known the sun would always come to rise.

My Father...
Our beloved Willow Tree...

When my father passed away they cut it down and make a coffin out of it.
That day, i saw my tree falling down and i felt the earth shaking beneath my feet.

My Father...
My Willow Tree
Jan 2011 · 500
Man For All Seasons
I woke up.
It was spring.
You were there smiling at me among the blooming flowers.
Your green eyes looked radiant as you moved beautifully towards me.

I walked along the river.
It was summer.
You were there smiling at me.
I could see our reflections in the water.
I could see my face sparkling in your eyes.

It was cold.
Leaves were falling.
It was autumn.
You were there smiling at me among the blackening trees that were flapping in the cold breeze.
My hands were cold but you had them in yours.

It was all white and frozen.
I woke up.
I saw you there padding along the frozen river.
I smiled at you.
And you smiled back at me for the last time.
Pa i miss you everyday...
Jan 2011 · 520
First Time
I touched your face like the first time.
I kissed your lips like the first time.
I caressed your hair like the first time.
I made love to you like the first time.

Like the very first time...

Goodbye....
Jan 2011 · 466
YESTERDAY
I am surrounded by yesterday.
Shadows from the past will never go away.
You had once cut your skin and let me in.
Forever your silhouette will linger herein.

You were so alive i felt like a ghost.
There were many doors but your door was the only one i needed the most.
To walk through to find a new world.
Where i could fight my fears so cold.

Thank you...

Thank you for yesterday...
For letting me stay...
For letting me touching your face...
For letting me taste a sip of your peace...
For her
Dec 2010 · 462
Man Of The Years
It was years ago...
The day you had to go...
And i have been waiting still for years...
For you to come near...

Years pass by...
Another year has gone by...
Will i still have to try...
Will my tears ever run dry...
Mr. Willie Senior i will always miss you. May you rest in peace...
Dec 2010 · 512
Refuse To Dance
You looked me deep in the eye
I knew what you wanted to say.
It was not the music merging with my body.
As i laid me down on the floor before everybody.

You touched my feet and i trembled, my heart chimed.
Felt like the very first time
The music was going faster and ******.
As you played my every string so fantastic.

The lights had gone out, it was dark as could be.
I could not see you but i could feel you.

The floor was cold but my hands were even colder...
When you put your hands on me, pressing your body against me tighter...
You kissed me, and i could feel the sweetness of the wine you had just sipped...
My hands dancing through your hair, as your scent dripped...

Suddenly you turned around and walked away...
Leaving me dancing alone like a stray...

Not tonight...
Not tonight...

*Not tonight...
Dec 2010 · 525
Little Girls
Little girls running across the bank.
'Behold the man, the rover' they sang.
With the first blooms of spring humming.
Little girs hopping and dancing.

Children of the green hills.
Before the mountains that stand still.
Along the rivers under the sycamores they pad.
Standing against the storm that is mad.

Little girls come heal my soul...
Lay me down my wounds are foul...
Sing me a song to my sleep...
Into a kind slumber i shall fall deep...

Little girls, i want to dance with the wind that swirls through your hair.
My children, i want to run across my father's land for you are so fair.
I want to dance a fling in the silver light of the moon.
I want to dance and sing with you again very soon.

Little girls...come heal my soul...
My wounds are foul...
Dec 2010 · 560
The Crows
It was a cold frozen morning.
The day i had to bury my Father.
As if refusing to answer my calling,
I felt the air, i saw many gloomy colours.

The crows were all around.
I can still hear them squawking in my head until now.
Dec 2010 · 1.5k
Our Christmas Tree (re-post)
A
symbol
of our love
For you and me
to remember always
Till the day
we both die and fade away
I offer what money can not buy
My only devoted and everlasting heart
I'll stand by you
No matter what is probably coming our way.
I will always love you till my heart stops beating.
I wanna grow old with you and die in your arms because i
Love
Love
Love
Love
Love
Love
Love
You
Merry Xmas to you all... God bless us everyone...
Dec 2010 · 524
Galman says Merry Xmas...
Hey mates and fellow-poets... I wish you all a very merry christmas.... God bless us all.... :)
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