On Turning her up in her Nest with the Plough

Wee, sleekit, cow’rin’, tim’rous beastie,
O what a panic’s in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
Wi’ bickering brattle!
I *** be laith to rin an’ chase thee
Wi’ murd’ring pattle!

I’m truly sorry man’s dominion
Has broken nature’s social union,
An’ justifies that ill opinion
Which makes thee startle
At me, thy poor earth-born companion,
An’ fellow-mortal!

I doubt na, whiles, but thou may thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen-icker in a thrave
‘S a sma’ request:
I’ll get a blessin’ wi’ the lave,
And never miss’t!

Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin!
Its silly wa’s the win’s are strewin’:
And naething, now, to big a new ane,
O’ foggage green!
An’ bleak December’s winds ensuin’
Baith snell an’ keen!

Thou saw the fields laid bare and waste
An’ weary winter comin’ fast,
An’ cozie here, beneath the blast,
Thou thought to dwell,
Till, crash! the cruel coulter past
Out thro’ thy cell.

That wee bit heap o’ leaves an’ stibble
Has cost thee mony a weary nibble!
Now thou’s turned out, for a’ thy trouble,
But house or hald,
To thole the winter’s sleety dribble
An’ cranreuch cauld!

But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men
Gang aft a-gley,
An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,
For promised joy.

Still thou art blest, compared wi’ me!
The present only toucheth thee:
But, oh! I backward cast my e’e
On prospects drear!
An’ forward, tho’ I canna see,
I guess an’ fear!

Wee, sleekit, cow'rin, tim'rous beastie,
O, what a panic's in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
Wi' bickering brattle!
I *** be laith to rin an' chase thee,
Wi' murd'ring pattle!

I'm truly sorry man's dominion,
Has broken nature's social union,
An' justifies that ill opinion,
Which makes thee startle
At me, thy poor, earth-born companion,
An' fellow-mortal!

I doubt na, whiles, but thou may thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen icker in a thrave
'S a sma' request;
I'll get a blessin wi' the lave,
An' never miss't!

Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin!
It's silly wa's the win's are strewin!
An' naething, now, to big a new ane,
O' foggage green!
An' bleak December's winds ensuin,
Baith snell an' keen!

Thou saw the fields laid bare an' waste,
An' weary winter comin fast,
An' cozie here, beneath the blast,
Thou thought to dwell -
Till crash! the cruel coulter past
Out thro' thy cell.

That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibble,
Has cost thee mony a weary nibble!
Now thou's turn'd out, for a' thy trouble,
But house or hald,
To thole the winter's sleety dribble,
An' cranreuch cauld!

But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving foresight may be vain;
The best-laid schemes o' mice an 'men
Gang aft agley,
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!

Still thou art blest, compar'd wi' me
The present only toucheth thee:
But, Och! I backward cast my e'e.
On prospects drear!
An' forward, tho' I canna see,
I guess an' fear!

wee ribbit, hoppin, daftie beastie
a rebber baind is in tha breastie
thou needs but waindie baindie up
and off tha hop
i *** be laith to rin an chase thee
tha niver stop

wee hoppin freggie tha smal laigs
is baitter spring than sailver stail
but i wud giv ye this advaice:
dinna tak a chance
some think tha laigs a taestie meal
dinna *** ta france

nu laieth flattie en the wa'
laik paice o' paeper gon astra'
nae mair tha hoppin in the aer
sae daft an barmy
the ainly fewture fair thee now
is origami

Red.
I'm hot-headed, and I rush into things.
I'm strategic and tough.
Yet, this is all a mere coverup for the scars of my past.

Blue.
You're cool, suave and charismatic.
You're a good aim and goofy.
Yet, I can tell you're hurting deep inside.

Why won't you let me hold you?
Let us kiss under a sparkling twilight.
Then, our two worlds can collide.
And we can become a lilac sky.

Inside

An amazing story,
Beyond defeat beyond glory,
Of homes built with ****** sweaty teary bones,
Of hearts carved by elastic days to pose in graves as stones!
A dance more Fancy than beliefs knowledge and chance,
Behind those walls truth did glance...
A lady dressed with eyes around,
Sang her sound,
He was a man filled with her covering warmth, never lost nor found,
Her eyes held heat as well, and by stillness he was bound...
The sky was tomorrow fallen onto her ground,
My words may stare into the Windows of your soul,
As I am a today that may proudly fall,
As words say who said them and winds of winters call,
We obey a day as it hears what we speak,
We are it at a peek,
So take a peak,
We fade to be roads as roads emerge to pass though,
And so a breath new is nothing new,
The story above started before love,
And will end after I end?

By: Laith Aktham Qusus

Blood and bones afloat onto lakes and stones,
Shan't mean value yet that is value...
Here you hear,

Let your music play now and away,
It or you may one day have had a silent something to say,
Payments themselves receive leave and pay!

Yet how warm the cold can be,
When sound memories are what heartbeats may see,
A truth reshaping reality till it is free of even being free,
Solidly aware with care even of not being...
As a picture of waves, graves and every tree,

Noble is a flame fatherly speaking to eyes,
A motherly Rain bigger than size,
And all that all will eventually realize!

Yours till then,
By: Laith Aktham Qusus
Mob: 962/0778074397

Miss under stood or misunderstood?
Would wood burn to return as ashes dust and seeds tend to have needs...
Or tend to tend and attend,
As waves that break then heal and mend,
Into vacuums that reverse to amend,
Receivers and senders are sent,
Reasons are purposes sourced to be destinations distant...
And truth is really meant,
At dots of nets glowing to shine where right free just thoughts are felt and feelings are thought ,
We all are paths for paths, Tomorrow came and went...
A present gifted beyond flesh sophisticated rent...
Breath is air and God is care.

By
Laith Aktham Qusus