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Daydreaming | Remembering Dreams | Into The Woods | Page Four Title | Watching | Enter The Fabled Succubus | Lost And Found


Poetry Is Passion
Poetry Is Passion

..A voice


Brilliant blaze-Inferno,
For those who come too close,
A genuine giver of life itself,
Companion to the rain,

Unique and glorious deity,
How would it be called,
If not that solar name,
Fiery breathing rays,

I looked into the Eye,
And saw my self reflected,
This mirror in the sky,
The warmth that it ejected,

Central focus, inner sight,
My fondest thoughts for you,
Majestic royal light,
I know the heart is blue.

Strange Feelings

Once, some time ago, I was born,
Into this strange old world,
A certain constellation,
A certain time of day,

I wished upon a shy star,
Far removed, up there,
I slept and did not dream,
Mumbling, tumbling down,

Delighting in the drizzle,
Drenching drops of rain,
Silver shadows, afternoon,
What shall we have for dinner?

The Winter and his sting,
Simply cannot hurt me,
All the days and all the nights,
My life seems but a dream,

Give me one more reason,
For pity on this place,
When I find myself to be in love,
And deeply in love with life.


Gentle knowing ghostlike creatures,
White angelic forms glide,
Through crisp clear water,
Display most elegant features,
And by some oasis hide.
I watch this scene, from within a train,
Off to work, speeding by,
That one there must be God's own daughter,
Longing to see him again,
The smallest one tries to fly.

Homo Homini Lupus