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Apr 2015
Fresh cut grass ,
the smeel is cast
that hidden stone is
clear and white atlast

It's grain is smooth
from rain and soot
Live again you ancient bed
of that passed river
which was ounce said
to hold
the earth
to balance

Uncountable names
stories forever muffled to die
in vain
A people so wide,
the crowd so many    
someone like you
probably lies here too.

Layers of Time
that all mix up
to a bundle of nothing
A piece of cloth, a needle and a bone
inbetween messengers
from dead things
to home

They went down the ground
like worms, mice and
burnt wood
Yet the grass dosen't carry their burden
for it's there you went and stood
upon their past
Not even sheding a tear
not even trying to hear

And some still hope life never ends
that you never go to sleep
Salvation
the ultimate cup of coffee
fresh enough
to grind your way through eternity
buying you
a good class ticket
to the Postcard Scenery of  
Lambs and Serenity

Fresh cut grass ,
the smeel is cast
that hidden stone is
clear and white atlast
Clouds approach:
I must resort
Farewell you lands
of Tears and Hope
I love Archaeology
Henry Brooke
Written by
Henry Brooke  Paris
(Paris)   
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