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PAAA May 2018
A white sheet of paper;
But not for long

Four old red stripes
Enter quickly; followed
By seven blue ones above
And below the horizon
-in no order yet

Pastel green and greyblue
Paint summer sky; Emerald
And cobalt present themselves
As ocean; last daylight
Shines in sangria and ruby; reflecting
In the blue spreading cosmos

Turning the page ocean gets
Darkest night and the sun
Sails away on a red boat with
A shining black sail, just like life
Life is full of turning points and there can always be the last one, so enjoy life!
PAAA May 2018
Hey little fighter
I know you are
there

Hey little fighter
I know you might
be scared

Hey little fighter
do not be afraid

Hey little fighter
I know you will
succeed
Everyone has a little fighter in themselves. Be proud of it and fight for everything you think is worth it
PAAA Apr 2018
They are beautiful
but fragile breath
of air; Shimmering
in every thinkable
colour, but her wings
are turquoise

Glittering in accents
in Sapphire and aqua-
marine; Unique and
fabulous, but not because
of her colouring dress

Beautiful because of
her broad scar extending
over her entire right
wing

Made with pure purpose,
Ugly and nasty; Just ripped
apart with brutal violence

Years she stayed on the
ground hiding under
a great iris, ashamed and
sad

Years she tried to understand
why human hurt butterflies, those
little creatures that beautify
even the worst day while
dancing on a calyx

She couldn’t find an answer
Can you?
The butterfly is a metaphor for another human and I think it is incredibly sad, that some humans just hurt others with purpose.
PAAA Apr 2018
Everything glows in light;
Getting up onto ten little
creatures moving happily
up and down on the floor

Three steps to open the glass
letting in fresh air; Little
gemstones sparkle on grass
and violets in the rising sun

The left ear hears church
ringing, deep and relaxing;
The right ear bird songs,
light and exiting

A little fluffy bumblebee
hums curiously around the
white frame; A robin perches
on the fence’s edge turning
her small head joyfully
towards the sun

Trees move slowly in the
warm breeze shaking away
the last tiredness

Arms stretch out releasing
big strong wings to fly into
the day
A beautiful sunny Sunday morning looking into my garden. Love this moment so much that I just had to write about it.

— The End —