Empty sheets
Is much better than a soul that will leave you in vacuous defeat
Keep them clean
Ideal people do not only exist in dreams
Sometimes you have to burn before you can become the seams
That sows it all back together

It was all for the love of poetry
his love of the rhyming word,
in the library he searched hopefully
for sonnets and poems by the bard.

He could see the book he wanted
it was high up on the shelf,
it was the biggest book he spotted
the complete works of the bard himself.

There were no steps or stools at hand
no way to reach his treasured find,
so he jumped and tried to grab the band
that was hanging from its spine.

He pulled the band with all his might
the giant book it fell like lead,  
and the complete works of Shakespeare
came down and landed on his head.

Yes! Shakespeare killed my best friend
he brought him to his end,
not with sword or dagger
but with every word he ever penned.

And now that death has found him
feel not cold towards his heart,
forget the words you never spoke
forget the years you grew apart;
See not contempt that closeness bred
recall those early loving days,
dwell not the times of stale and pain
´twas only life got in the way.

Sit at night beneath the stars
recall the twinkle in his eyes,
see the man that he once was
before the aged face and lines,
see him in his younger day
not the one that he became,
see the man that you first loved
before “life” got in the way.

Look and find that youthful smile
the smile that won your heart,
years of change had taken toll
but his love for you did not depart;
So now that death has found him
don´t despise what he became,
you altered him to suit yourself
so there´s only you to blame,

for he did not want to change.

What sweeter day
than to walk the way
of rolling summer hills,

where lavender scents
your every step and white
blossoms linger still,

what sweeter sound than
the running stream where
ripples splash and spray,

and melodies of birdsong
travel with you all the way.

Looking down
I pull out the chair,
the two empty cups
still where they were left,

spoons on saucers,
granules of sugar spilt
all over the gingham cloth,
with a few drops of coffee;

I watch them leaving
arm in arm, smiling,
so in love;

The mess aside
I picked a good table,
shaded from the sun,

Café con leche por favor
I ask,
as the waiter clears away
the lovers conversation.