ferskenfarvet
skrattende
over os er himmelen kongeblå og pyntet med stjerner, med vidundere, med vidner til dette
rundt
kirsebær-rød
blødt og varmt gulvtæppe
sen-septemberens luft
lyde, mennesker
åbent vindue som en varm invitation til gadens liv  
intet er for meget eller for lidt
lige præcis tilpas, balanceret, roligt men spændende
komfortabelt men udfordrende
voksende følelse, lysende, brændende - men let
lavendel
ingen tårer; tunge, skamfyldte, drænende
kun et let smil
fyrfadslys
cremefarvet og fjerlet latter
rosmarin
lykkelig stilhed
poetisk øjeblik, stilnet samtale
citrongræs
smuk og stilfærdig fortællerform; ydmyg
inspirationen ligger så tæt i rummet at dug former sig på ruden
og tanker i hovederne
og samtaler der flyder sammen og fletter sig til ét forhold; én tanke
et ideal
sommerfugle-flagrende øjenvipper
morgenfruer
vi ligger på gulvet
en brise af brænde-røg
pladespilleren kører, dæmpet, upåtrængende
dyb vejrtrækning
vi føler os okay
ferskner

You with your Rosmarin laugh
and Sunflower eyes
with your Dandalin smile
and angellike mind
The garden within you
it blooms with your growth
It smells like the wets
of a fresh summer rain
Where the Clouds they pass by
Soft winds in your hair
You outshine it all, the sun in your soul

Prettiest boy,
reincarnated sun
You shine to bright
To keep eyes on you for long
You burned in my mind
I see you asleep
My indsides defind
everytime you breath

You're warm to each touch
Your mind is beyond
The reach of my love
Your garden it blooms
It grows with each tear
A lover has lost
On your lonely love

Prettiest boy
No sundown compares
No sunrise alights
When you're by my side
My beeing it arches
To get youre attention
But ever song listend to often
Gets gladly forgotten

So when youre leaves start falling
When your clouds get gray
When your wind is harsh
Remember me every day
The music once was alive
But there'll be new songs in your live
February it's still not time
For new flowers to bloom
For tulpits and roses
For lilies and iris
For me to forget you

You made my trees so alive
Your made my garden green
And my apples red
My oranges soft
And my insids burn
'Caus fruit and flowers are gardens the same
But one cannot go on
In the cold winters embrace