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helena ferpin Dec 2012
I wish I had a terrace
So I would put a mattress there
And I would sleep everyday
Stargazing by the wind lullabies

I wish I had a spaceship
So I would fly through the galaxies
Just to watch the dancing stars
And I wouldn't need to sleep
Cause I'd be happy just to dance
By the sound of space guitars

I wish I was a galaxy
So I would be the home of countless stars
And I would play them joyful songs
So they wouldn't cry
As they slowly die

I wish I was a star
So I would sleep everyday
Watching you smile
And I would play you windly lullabies
So you could gently fall asleep at night

And I wouldn't be afraid to die
Cause I'd knew you'd be happy
Just to watch me shine
Even for the last time.
jeffrey conyers Feb 2011
Boo!
Did God scare you?
Well, he should it's his way of warning you.

Notice the people that grateful for the blessings he gives.
When through any storm warning he could have destroyed all of them.
Sure some don't make it all the way through.
But in their death the Lord has given a message to you.

Some quick to admit it could have ended.
While others took precautions to be safe, from it beginning.
And there was no guarantees they would make it through.

But they was blessed.
And realize, by who?

Boo!
Was you shocked by the roar of the thunder?
As if a train wreck had occurred.
Was you amazed that you slept through it?
And woke up and seen some wasn't so lucky.

Being prepared sounds good and great.
But make no mistake that you're in charge.
Because in truth it's not to be.
For, the Lord God runs all things.

Just like a windly breeze that suddenly pops up.
God, power at that moemnt  can come hard.
To make you say Ooh.

It coud have ended in a second or two.
Rights owne by Jeffrey T. Conyers- From Standing Before God With My Sins
kfaye Sep 2022
Inverted hermit

Hole in time, like a well
Clay
Bricks swollen with memory
Diving deep into long churning oceans of night ink

And speak your peace
By standing softly
And letting time swill together in collected tidal pools - in the recessing draw of the ever-black


Bourne a-mast to the windly observance there

— The End —