Stale glass of water
A dissatisfying sip
I drink it again

A touch of yellow
There on its own, not for me
But how sweet it is

Be away from me
I tire of your clinging
Don't make me touch you

This fire spreads fast
Ravaging my foundation
I beg for ashes

Feeling like a snail
Will I ever leave this shell?
I miss the garden

My only joy now
Is the sunshine on my face
When will I feel warm?

Feeling like a leaf
Swept away in a cold gust
My tree is long gone

sea, soft harbour of summer,
where the breezes drift
and the dawn tide pales like cloud.

summer’s roses bloom
while the dawn tide pales like cloud
and sweet breezes drift.

where sweet breezes drift
the dawn tide pales like cloud, the
rose of summer blooms.