Rebecca Stansfield Poems

Thrilling eyes, they are to me,
Like those black neon and silver swords,
That slowly pierce into me,
A second lost is second-silvered bore.
...

The daft fish of the silver sea,
always swimming and yet they cannot see,
that the noose is loose,
and then they wondering for more room.
...

April rain is turning over me,
transmitting gear inside of me,
the humming of the flying bee's,
is like wind whistling in the winter tree's.
...

What is a Land? What is a shore?
Has everyone forgotten lore,
in which my powers..
seizes, to understand,
...

A rise of lost emotions,
flying and they wonder inside of me,
questions that can't be answered yet.
What is love supposed to do?
...

Love submitted a thrill of,
what I cannot be of.
A sea, A water of wishes,
all amenity inside of me.
...

Kneeling fairy, bowing, we don't know why we didn't see.
Make yourself tired by giving birth, on the edge of the earth,
and see.
Cover your eyes and tears don't let one see.
...

I can thrill into purity,
and kick away from guilt,
but the essence is a party that I can not,
believe where it has come from.
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Though the best things grow and do expand,
the world is shrinking in my hands.
Full of Lady and the Lake and thought,
but I'm suiting until I'm bought.
...

What can spirits do at the prime-night?
Upset and weakening all the while.
An army of fire-flies hovering on the lake at night-
And I can't hear any birds sing.
...