even though,
it is
raining cats and dogs outside
here
comes a quiet storm
just
let me get
my red umbrella
while
our
words are getting wet

even though
deception leaning
inward towards
your soul
while
glaring back
at you
through
the
kaleidoscopic mirror
when
dangling from the wall

love
shall not wait
wait long
to get out of
the storm
to
keep herself warm

Not a single blow, but countless stings,
Love is a thousand cuts, on fragile wings.
Each word unsaid, a hidden barb,
Each doubt unvoiced, a silent scar.

trapped
in
sea of evil
a spider's web of fear and doubt
and
now i sing out
yet
i
must to speak in tongues
to say
let me out

In stillness deep, where shadows fade,
A heart unfolds, its prayer displayed.
Beneath the hush of dawn's embrace,
I seek Your light, Your sacred grace.

No incense burns, no chants arise,
Just gentle breaths, beneath the skies.
The whispering leaves, a verdant choir,
Echoing hymns, my soul's desire.

I close my eyes, let thoughts take flight,
On feathered wings, bathed in Your light.
Through tangled webs of doubt and fear,
Your presence shines, dispelling tear.

The river's song, a calming flow,
Washes away the seeds of woe.
In every grain, in every stone,
Your touch I feel, I am not alone.

The mountain's peak, a silent guide,
Points to the heavens, vast and wide.
And in the stars, like diamonds set,
Your love unfurls, I can't forget.

No words can speak the awe I find,
In nature's art, You fill my mind.
A grateful hush, a whispered sigh,
In this communion, You and I.

So let me dwell in this retreat,
Where soul and spirit gently meet.
A meditation, pure and deep,
In Your embrace, forever I will sleep.

And when I rise, with light renewed,
Your love will carry, understood.
A silent vow, a whispered song,
A meditation with God, all life long.

Upon the hills of Nottingham, where castles kiss the sky,
A tapestry of time unfolds, beneath the centuries sigh.

Stone whispers tales of Robin Hood, of arrows swift and true,
Of Maid Marian's gentle grace, her heart forever blue.

Through winding lanes and cobbled streets, the echoes softly roam,
Of craftsman's hammers, merchants' calls, and whispers whispered home.

The Trent, a silver ribbon, winds through meadows lush and green,
Reflecting sunlight, dappled leaves, a tranquil, vibrant scene

On Robin Hood's Way, the forest calls, with verdant boughs held high,
Where ancient oaks and sunlit paths, beneath the blue sky lie.

In caves where miners toiled and sang, their stories still reside,
In echoes on the cavern walls, where secrets gently hide.

And as the dusk paints shadows long, the city lights aflame,
Upon the hills of Nottingham, a whispered, timeless name.

For here, the past and present weave, a magic in the air,
A city with a beating heart, a story to declare.

So come, dear wanderer, raise your cup, and let the stories flow,
Upon the hills of Nottingham, where dreams forever grow.