They said it's going rain again.
A sky full up with ****** downed raindrops.
Acidic, all full up with war.
Eastern,
Western
And they're all wearing tin hats.
Their hats be beat with wooden spoons.
Complexity of situations.
Clasp hands real tight
Dreams of friendships between nations.
Regardless of religious rifts.
A cautionary tale,
From the grounded whale
She who can change nothing
Our world in need of communication.
And just a touch of soothing.
Let us drift in to a sleep,
From where tomorrow always comes.
(c)LIVVI

Roses are red with sharp thorns that bite.
Violets unholy blue,
Those roses bright red are full up with spite,
Violets are pretty tho rarely speak true.
Tulips are for kissing,
Not sure what they're missing.
Lilies are scented,
They're lacing the air,
And the green grass tells tales to the trees,
cos they listen,
The speak of the chap who cuddled the girl,
but they never repeat cos they just wouldn't dare.
Beneath the rocks the fairies do dwell,
with all seeing eyes but they never tell.
The garden's full of secrets,
That's where they lie,
Everything happens there says the all seeing eye.
But the house-folk, never know why they're looking,
Perhaps they're playing I-Spy.
(C) LIVVI

Heavenly father.
He never sinned.
The priest of France he was not spared.
By men so evil.
Devil spawn?
Bless you old fella, the lord in your soul,
It is no compensation that you were already old.
You held in your heart a cross of pure gold.
Once more I tell of your nation's devastation.
LIVVI

The clouds to the left are etched 3D,
Black in front of fluffy white with crispy edges,
Just in sight.
They're high, and mighty.
Holding noise with spirits rife.
Courts of clouds respecting raindrops.
Hovering as giant birds.
It's raining now.
The only way to beat this heat,
Stifling,
Choking.
Thank heavens.
(c)Livvi

As if  pair of faded curtains my life draws to it's end.
Hopefully not too soon, I guess.
Bearing the wind through the overt windows
Teased by blanching sunlight,
Ripped by pulling fingers.
Dated tassels hung from saggy hems.
Wrinkled, in need of ironing.
Life is but one pressing engagement, leading to another.
Long fringe dresses my brow line,
Curtains that inhibit future vision.
Time for a hair cut perhaps.
Lighten the load.
(C) LIVVI