.       What can you do, fight being you?
        Who can I be, if I'm not being me?
      Where can I go if I don't belong home
      Where can i turn when I feel so alone.

I cannot confide, I have too much to hide
I cannot push further what's deep down inside, I protect you from me and the troubles I bring I won't weigh you down I won't let you drown.

I will not let you share the worries that I bear, I will not let you see, the cracked doll that is me.

Oh my dear Lord
Your beautiful creation of the dandelions...
Oh my great God
Your beautiful creation of my heart...
Oh the beautiful dandelions
The owners of the blue sky
Ask God whether I can imagine
your dress carrying Jasmines !!!
I haven't told the sky how much I love you
but I've told God...


ای خدای من
...قاصدک ها را زیبا آفریدی
ای خدای بزرگ
...قلب من را زیبا آفریدی
ای قاصدک های زیبا
که آسمانی آبی دارید
به خدا بگویید
اشکالی ندارد
اگر فکر کنم
!!! پیراهن شما گل یاسمن دارد
من به آسمان نگفته بودم
شما را دوست دارم
...به خدا گفته بودم

Billions and billions
Of possibilities
In a restless, uncertain world.
Your eyes meet mine
And I couldn't think
Of another pair
That could make me
As certain.


-- Eleanor

Keeping up appearances,
Shutting the dark vibe down.
Keeping up appearances,
Putting on a crown.
Keeping up appearances,
Make a smile out of a frown.

Keeping up appearances,
But quietly you drown.

It,s  a  lovely  crisp  early  spring  morning.
After  a  sharp  frost.
Clear  blue  sky  has  far
as  the  eye  can  see.
Very  quiet, no  wind  at  all.
The  snow  capped  mountains
stand  proudly  on  the  horizon.
A  few  holiday  makers  arriving.
For  a  brand  new  season.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK  2017.

everything of
me was choir-song

every bolt of
air,
every summer
moon,
every drop of
cooling rain,

in spring i
melted like
a hedgerow,
in gold and
sky-bronze,

in summer i
gathered the sky
to my branches
green with shadows
of longing,

in autumn i trembled
downwards like a
girl unwinding her
hair,

and in winter i froze
on the doorstep
all black branch
and cold
rigging on
a barren ship,

everything of me
was choir-song and
i had the most
beautiful
purple throat,

i was a soft
melody of love
on a strange
moody day.

Cobwebs

Just before
the night claims me,
errant thoughts usually traipse across the landscape of my mind.
There's always
bits and pieces from my conscious day that play out and then there's the bits and pieces that creep and crawl  in
from the cobwebs of my subconscious mind.
God, how these thoughts plague me, harangue me.
And it all twists and turns internally in the twilight of my dreams and I battle through it all.
I fight and I struggle and I break through the surface and I breathe.
And I awake. I stir, I struggle, and then,
and then, I decide
that this day
is another day
that is worthy of my time.

I could never tell
if it scared
or comforted me
every time I looked at you
and thought to myself,
I could so easily love you
forever.

Now, I know
it was both
fear
and warmth
simultaneously.
Love rarely speaks
the word
or.