Rebecca Stansfield Poems

The lacking of time,
is in duty.
Paid and almost done,
where room is no longer insurable,
...

When lives of love submit,
in a tragedy of feelings of,
of that this so place where feelings lay,
when I'm pretending to be curious? !
...

Moving life emits,
a tender thrill of all of this,
of that so great in all our minds,
changing the course of which the grounds,
...

Nature relies on me,
what to submit and how it's essence plays in my ears.
How in my heart I listen,
the thrill in which I'm thinking of,
...

Jumping from the morning, but
who's wife sting,
as how we face the upcoming
bright summer.
...

There's not many people in,
what I buy, share,
for who are the people,
- I do not not know.
...

Laying in by nature where I lay,
awaiting anything before I start the day.
I know the times from way before,
the way that was the same.
...

Every bird 'a coming around
the fire of the WHO in me,
and where is the day starting?
I love you-
...

I be born a surrounding soul,
bowing at each and every courtesy,
yet each and everything thing I stole,
stolen from grace and robbed from me,
...

If I knew why be here that I was here,
and if I only knew why the sad birds sings,
silently singing does the bird,
quietly whispering his wings.
...