I have some flowers upon my window-sill,
The yellow and white contrast so lightly
You would hardly notice that they differ at all,
Yet one is purity, and the other is frivolity
...
Wandering aimlessly at the misty station
Lugging a velvet heart-shaped case
Listening numbly to the conductor's whistle
Trudging past endless grey with dreary pace
...
As I kept my nightly vigil
On the cliff's rocky edge tonight
As the waves crashed below me
By the twinkling of starlight
...
Suspended above a riveting scene
Fathoming lovely things otherwise unseen
Eyes trailing over countless dewy mounds of green
As the blue of sky reflects serenity
...
There is a silent tragedy
In the setting of the sun
When the golden orb
Declares its day as done
...
Trudging through an aimless drizzle
That reflects my damp and foggy mind
Slogging on in the endless downpour
That echoes my mind's constant grind
...
Wandering up the hills,
Meandering through the dales,
Wafting through the leaves,
Whispering up the vale
...
Down the street and through the wooded paths
Filled with the scent of other seasons that have passed,
I wonder at the flowers and rest beneath the trees,
The friends of my loneliness are none other than these.
...
Ebbing as the eventide,
Bringing dark waters to your mind,
Festering up into your eyes,
Brew of waters turns you blind.
...
He lay with her and toyed her hair in his fingers, gently,
As she was silent and sighed and looked so beautiful,
But he sensed that there was something wrong
And he asked, so tenderly, had he been cruel?
...