Be thankful for the rain ,
for when it came parched lands were quenched amugst humid skies ,
as darker clouds gathered at four in the afternoon .
The letter I meant to send you lies unopened on my table .

There was no post today ,
no stamp as the post office was closed ,
no rail road to sent by train to sort out ,
No pigeon post as my bird had died that morning in its cage ,
Or telegraph man with heavy burden of death to knock on your door .
My WiFi off line
E mails down ,
My paper plane would not take to flight ,
If I could have walked to your house and mailed it by candel light ,
Or sent a sonet ,
Or a chorister of chamber singers at dusk .
By quil and ink I would have written
‘ I love you ‘

(/Woman )”:;O charm me sir so that I might never sleep ,
with you’re words so beautiful and sweet .
bewitch me with you’re poetic words
However daft or obserd.
And love me thou my pale is dry,
that you might fill it Untill I over flow with joy .
That i if I were to awaken you’re love ,
In the pure essence of a flying dove .



Then spindle or twine
Let Love then.  Spin the final twine.

And upon that Twine a needle be thread ,
stitched in red into  the garments of my bed .”

Man ) “But alas I cannot spin or thread or weave ,
for all. You’re practices are to deceive .
And to capture thine ,
for that Would be a waste of time .”

Woman);”Then read me that book you were writing just now
In soft white sheets I will listen some how ,
whilst the candel still burns bright .
For I will weave a spell that will fill you with
all the desires of hell .”

Man )“ But that will cause my words to arouse ,
and the wind and rain will begin  to howl .”

Woman )”Then let hell awake for I shall lie on this bed
Untill you’re softly spoken words have been said “

Man ) “Then be gone with you
my candel blows
and when the wick is out ,
Then Satan himself will be cast out .”

i walk threw the night with my Russian blue eyes the night lights up when the full moon glears. the world is turning as my life turns. every night my blue eyes light up like safiers and fire flys. the delicat nature holds my mind as the wild call out for the first time.
my heart skips a beat when the tables turn same as the demonic elements that linger around my safe haven. the night sky is like a canvas that i can aline the stars above to lead my path to survive.
no candel lights aloud nor fire cause my blue eyes glow like a safire lit up in the mist of the moon  light.

every night i follow new paths but when day breaks i'm vanished from sight. the night sky has so many tricks only the beauty never breaks the cold weather comes around but my blue eyes will never freez or lose the dreams of my life.

when my blue eyes glow i can call to the wild my calls to the wolfs bring happiness deep down with exitment and freeom.

i cant be held back for im nor threat only the wind and moon light can passes my soul.

when winter is hear so do i my blue eyes light the way to my next place of joy

i finally have escaped the werched and divine but my voice will never be heard untill summer and spring arrive.

my russian blue eyes can lead me to love hope and the freedom to fly but the night sky calls my blue eyes traping me drawing me life bye

Have you ever been so alive , have you ever felt so real?                                    As to the reason your here , ive been meaning to tell you  , sincear                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              I had a late night talk with the stars about my departure, my truth is infinitely breathing you wont need me to see me , You wont hear me but you will feel me. Drinking late night has not been too hazordus i didnt pass out and i still have half a bottle, I feel complete light seeing your faces , always so happy and forever caring , you guys are who make me.  Ancient feelings we all are sharing is like slow candel wood burning  , We who suffer is we who rejoice , we who suffer are those will stand forth                                                                                                               I realize there so many of you who i can completeley  tell everything too, the stars tell me how infinite it is to be me and you ,   I feel like this is a big thank you ,  melting away in your attraction , i feel tonight , the stars are clear and right now seem to be here  ,Where i am is who i am and what i am is light.   You my dear are so crystal clear ,you my dear will always be here,                                                                                                                                                                               The date is december 2 after that it would only take a second ,                         My soul would never let me rest , there is this pain in my chest teeling me to fly west .Thinking of all of you who stand here, the word love dosnt come near, trying my best to explain a feeling of complete craze   , seeing you again. Feeling you again, Being you again.                                                                              But when you realize the bright moon is who we are , there wont need to be me to feel like that or near.       It is that beautiful sunset telling you  i will be hereforever.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      Btw: i cant spell for ****, and im quite intoxicated,

Mans wings on emortal things canst only perish .
For if love were of man it might flicker and die ,
Like a tinder box flame with no oxygen ,
no heat or smouldering Cole could ever give life to this ice , cold ,
Frozen heart .
And where does such sweet parting meet ?
And sorrowful love must end ?
Does it depart , or stay a while my friend ?
Or is love of such sorrow born eternal ,
and if so Blessed by God himself ?
Then feelings and passions rage of which I know not .
Only to love and not be loved with flowers and kisses ,
and romantic candel light moons .
What if love was more ?
To give up the ghost on a friendship or so lament my heart with sorrow
To the kid who s. Mother shunned the gun ,
Bought a guitar and strumed for fun ,
Played sweet songs for Dixie ,
And what that boy heard on the hill only drew him
To the mean streets of Memphis
and the blues came a calling.

' I don't sound like anyone here ' in 54 ,
In the blazin Memphis heat
Came from which rock was born ,
a song for a dime , to play to his mama .

And the ladies went wild ,
and the kid from the shack ,
With a guitar on his back ,
With a swing of his hips ,
and a curl of his lip ,
Bought a house for his Ma'am ,
then money and wealth ,
Took away his health ,
An empty lonely house without Pricilla .
For love that's born of man must perish and die ,
Alone without a flicker .
And three cruel nails ,
To Christ empailed on a tree is proof enough for me ,
that Gods love is eternal.

How blessed the night ,
that’s just before dawn ,

That draws out the light ,
Out of the vastness of space .

Which joys are brought forth by the pitter patter of the rains .



The unseen man who walks by day
Who is broken inside .                                                                ­                For his lady has left in a terrible rage
For
Now  he drinks whisky all day and all night ,
and keeps a bottle of pills and a gun in a draw by his side .
                    
Blessed be the child who kneels at his bed
his candel burns brighter than the rest it is said .


Yet The candel that still flickers at night ,
when the widow
has no food to eat ,
and her children are out begging in the street .

The desperate child ,
Who has nowhere to hide

Blessed be the mountains so vast and wide
the unknown universe that has yet to be seen .
That we might one day figure out the wonders of God ,
In th£ termites and butterflies,
One the harvester of tears ,
the other ,who gives wonderment to the child ,
who chases butterflies in a field .

Blessed be the harvester the sower  of seeds ,
who gives hope to the lost ,
for he is the giver of dreams .

The winds that once beat against  my door ,
which never give me rest .


For in the darkest hours thou watches over me
as wicker shapes that bends the bark ,
with which no  winds so foul should bear ,

and though this  roof. may   have holes. to mend ,
as he bangs and saws and threads ,
so that I am tempted not ,
Tis with these cloven hooves I tred
to mountainous pastures far away ,
to where no green grass is fed .

For he doth careth for
the blind ,
the sick ,
and the lame ,
those who do  not envy strife ,
yet brings not home it’s shame.

But in quiet pastures gently lays
he puts an end to war .
When  fierce wolves and dogs ,
take the shepherd from the door .

As darkness feasts upon the lamb ,
on hill tops far away ,
for danger is forever near ,
on cliffs tops ,
Left to die ?
No not I,
for it is in truth the good shepherd spake .
For all is said and done ,
and evening prayers are said ,
which quell the widows troubled brow ,
and holds fast the rebel tongue .
So as candel  light adorns the window frame ,
and waits for loved ones to appear ,
they know not how or when ,
When the day is done ,
and nightly clouds ,
draw ever near .
loved ones from out of the shadows shall appear                              from every field and farrow ,
the blind ,
the frail ,
and the lame .
O good shepherd won’t you guide me
home this very hour ,
to seek thy face again .

Alone she left him dying as if a thousand daggers were there .
Alone he felt her breathing but he knew she wasn’t there .
Alone he stood as if for hours wondering where she had gone ?
then realised it must have been the flowers ,
O where did he go wrong ?

A single candel stick now lies flickering upon a lump of wax ,
where there once was a table and on that was a cat !

But the cat left when in hot pursuit of a mouse ,
which kept him thinking where on earth did she go ?

Now the dinner Theodore had set before her covered the room ,
from head to toe .

So Theodore as charming as men go ,
set off in hot persuit of the woman who he loved ,
through the door ,
she left her glass slipper on the floor ,
down the steps ,
and galloped away .

So to this day he still could not find her ,
and that was many moons ago .

So if you hear horses hoofs and neighing when you come to stay ,
Just remember Theodore isn’t far away .

I walked in rooms I had not known ,
In a mansion that was not my own.
A scroll of papers on her bed ,
untill now were left unread .

Now There was once a room above we’re many flights of stairs ,
where Lucy sat to contemplate her thoughts and many prayers .
Whilst alone with candel light she shared
all her dreams and fears .

“ My love is our thread in deep dark twine ,
the kind of love that will pass throughout time ,
for many. a year I have awaited for a stranger.
For there is not one you must not tell ,
or our rondaview must  it end  in hell?
Then for if it is pergetory  that I must stay ,
for smiling at a stranger ?

O For then it is with you  I must reside ,
far away where I can hide .
Might gale and every storm abide this love I hold must  then requent  and die ,
for talking to a stranger .

Come quick for I fear his  every step  his evil eye  his stinking breath



for with each step he takes my heart grows ever colder.
As  with each beat of my heart  a chandelier starts to flicker .

For it is for you my dreams awake each night ,
to the sound of hooves that gallop and torches bright ,
like days of old my shining knight should ever ask upon my favor ?

Where branches scratch and sun grows cold ,
and shifting spirits a curse of old ,                                                             all for a night of talking with a stranger .

And if you are too late my candles dims ,
my light goes out ,
I cannot win ,
for without you my heart can’t  sing
and  so  unto death my blade grows ever sharper
and so my blood runs even darker ,
and  death is as cold as a stranger .