The Champion  is a sprinter
He keeps running to reach his destination

Sleep;
she is my mistress.
Her gentle love I can't deny.
Seduction.
Satisfaction.
How I lament an opened eye.

Oh,
what beauty I behold,
when I hold her in my eye.
But,
her face, behind a veil.
I cannot see it. How I try!

We meet in midnight hours.
Sometimes I go to her by day.
And I find her always anxious,
though she knows I cannot stay.

Solace,
she surrenders.
And what comfort I receive.
But,
it makes it only harder,
in the morning when I leave.

The desire in my eyes,
It is no secret for to see,
as I
awake
aside
a wife,
it is
asleep
I'd rather be.

I remember how you claimed to read me like a book
And then left me on the shelf
Forgotten by the person
I could never forget
Slowly quietly
Hiding behind closed doors
I remember
The time I loved you
Quickly frantically burying my tears
In the cloth of my sleeves
I remember
The time I loved you

~~
my world, my womb
unconditioned but air conditioned
too many frequencies make fusions
many more intuitions gathered a lot intentions
grew great confusions

my womb, my world
the ultimate heaven that proven the sense of love
that belongs spring that sprung
my mother's face
that certainly traced a weird tune which grew red rashes,
scratches on my mother lower abdomen  

I'm just eight months old
and my skin getting cold,
Even I could not told to my mother what I gather in the womb  
If I make the images zoom and
if somehow her rose will bloom
which only gain,
a huge pain that could not share or even bare
the world that never care
to my mother

where there is my womb, my world
and I'm only eight months old,
getting cold,
too cold...
~~
@Musfiq us shaleheen

Tree so tall
Mountain up high
Leave your image
Written in the sky

Mother of Earth
Father and sun
Tell me the secrets
Before my time is done

Alone in this world
Strong and tall
If I receive no help
I will certainly fall

Send your message
Don't deceive or lie
Give me a chance
Before I die

My plea for help
Didn't go far
No one listened
So, I wished upon a star

To  my  home  there  on  the  hilltop.
To  my  home  there  by  the  dale.
To  that  place  which  is  a  part  of  me.
One  day  I  know  I'll  sail.

I'll  step  off  the  ships  forever.
And  I'll  sail  no  more  the  seas..
When  I  answer  yet  the  sirens.
Of  my  homeland  calling  me.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK  2016.