Troubles fade away
In the far moonlight
All the cares of day
In the far moonlight
Slow and peaceful breathing
As the weary thoughts are leaving
In the far moonlight.

Peace comes unfurled
In the far moonlight
Brows lie unfurrowed
In the far moonlight
Serene faces all I see
As I look around me
In the far moonlight.

If days were not so long
In the far moonlight
We'd not dread the coming dawn
In the far moonlight
If the hours were less hurried
Then we'd never want to worry
In the far moonlight.

it wears you down
smooth.
neat as the unfurrowed brow of its next victim.
mother holds our hands firmly as we cross-
baby takes a tumble in the road-
but baby, bae af, gets up.

violence loves, more explicit than we, in the pause occupied between our
breaths.
less noble but more real. love> embryonic, ****** goth (at last!)
baby drips forthright into pieces, ***-lunged in the afternoon sun from windowlings- useless. head-lolling and good
enough.

we
get up
go out. find new things to define us.

sugar-milk wants to. knows best. gets rest. spoon floating. doves drink.


don't pray.
society is disgusting.
self-preservation has always been vile.
i am filthy with less than these.

and now we are__

Normalcy is the new Punk.
destroy from the inside, baby.

get me somewhere.







/

I am not surprised
anymore.

I expect people to be
who. they. are.

or, at least
have been, mostly

but, I will remember you
and how good that halo looked

upon your unfurrowed
however fleeting

he lays slumbering
tho the sun be bright

on hand grasping linen
the othe out of sight

he lays sleeping
not a care in the world

his face unfurrowed
his hair disarreyed curls

he is handsome
and beautiful too

unrazored cheeks
closed eyes of a green blue

his chest broad and deep
rises slowly in his sleep

all that mars this perfect scene
are the shuffle snores
as he dreams, little bulldozers
at busy work, chug-chug- chugging
driving me beserk

he lays sleeping, i do not
unfortunately this happens
a lot

he wakes refreshed
i wake cranky
mine is the last laugh,
the best revenge
this morning, no hanky
or panky...

Sitting in the field of us
I forget what the concept of unfurrowed will allow;
as it's just me and youy
in the now now now.

A perfect moment often creeps up undisclosed
Not carefully planned nor deliberately composed
It washes in a feeling of sheer bliss
And for that instant, nothing is amiss

It’s the golden sunshine flickering between the trees
Or the scent of spring carried on the breeze
The innocent peace of a child fast asleep
With brow unfurrowed, breathing slow and deep

It’s the whisper of encouraging advice
Bringing wise ideas; discerning and precise
It is the grace of a child performing up on stage
Whilst a parental supportive gaze will all fears assuage

It is beholding the brilliant colour of a flower in bloom
And savouring the aroma of its sweet perfume
It’s the stirring rise and fall of a classical symphony
Whose performers execute their roles in flawless harmony

It’s in diving into water clear and warm
Or snuggling by the fireside during a storm
It is plunging a set of footprints into ****** snow
Or the appearance of a fully arched rainbow

It is the burst of fresh flavours sizzling on my plate
Or the knowledge that tomorrow I can sleep late
It is the reassurance of a heartfelt hug
And the scent of coffee wafting from my mug

It is cycling along quiet, country lanes
Or galloping across rolling, wild plains
It is the invigorating possibilities of a glorious sunrise
Or the thrill of preparing an exciting surprise

That inner joy when peace unfurls