Walk with me through the storm beloved
Walk this long winding trail
Accompany me through the tempest
Through the onslaught of rain and hail

When thunder tries to shake us apart beloved
Let’s hold each other near
With you by my side when the lightning strikes
There is nothing I have to fear

The downpour is picking up beloved
But I know we will be fine
There is no storm I cannot face
As long as your hand is in mine

Up and down the road again,
following the twists and turns
in hope to achieve and gain
I ride on though my eyes burn

My hopes painted inside my mind
where in loops past and future runs
behind the clouds my star shines
I look through it though my eyes burn

I had held too many I could pocket,
now tell less tales, became a taciturn,
hanged those round my neck in a small locket,
I keep quite though my eyes burn

The storm has done damages enough
from the winds and waves I learned
even small ships can deal with the rough
I clean the deck *though my eyes burn

Within the centre of your being
May you find peace
Every act of unconditional love
Echoes in eternity
Spread your wings and dance
Dreams into reality
If your situation  won't change
Then change yourself
The optimist is often as wrong
As the pessimist
But he is far far happier
Choose happiness

All in the pursuit of love
Footsteps of misery
Walking the lonesome miles
Lost to the sands and fire
Soul sacrificed to the divinity
Of longings aches
And distant dreams
Love needs a flame
Life needs the hurt
Theres no difference
Between heaven and earth
When lost in your gaze
No distance too far
No hope too dim
No wish too frail
For footsteps taken
Towards forevers end
When all in the pursuit
Of love

The hot air blows me dry
even the sweat disappears,
to be cool how hard I try
but the fire seems to reappear

.

How do we mend wavering pedestals...
When the ground beneath is parched dry.
Stemming off loose foundations that time had weathered wry.

How do we mend broken gazes...
When watchful eyes which were meant to see,
are blinded by the onslaught of half-truths and fallacy.

How do we mend burnt bridges...
When we never look back to trace heavy missteps.
We fail to admit to consciously springing obvious traps.

How do I mend ailing hearts...
When familiar corridors seem warped to a bend.
When my own is struggling and perpetually on the mend.

.
Each morning I rise unto hours,
Wheeling in sun, with wee wild flowers.

An hearty wish, on hills by the sea

Each day I skip about live stones,
In winds I run, deep dancing my bones.

I am made of each, cairn on hillocky

Each sweep of air a breathy kiss,
On skyline by the sea, one mighty bliss.

Dancing my bones, in winds I run

Each hour a new turning of page,
Each heap on hill, of these I am made.

*Wild wee flowers, wheeling in the sun