Annie Cordelia Adams

A little picture, browned,
Had a tear on its edge
Where moth and rust
Plagued it away
...

The Sun screams for me to catch it
But I can not adhere
The clouds: they ask me to ride
I reach and they've disappeared
...

I swept my hair to the side
and looked at you in your eyes
the grey foam sea just behind
the black and depth words you sigh
...

That if I would,
I would stand immortally at sea
Gazing for eternity at sea
...

I miss the sea and its cavalry of waves
I miss the salty air and salty breath
My heart leaps to jump into its arms
I miss the subtle breeze felt from afar
...

along the river fuji
bright, where a mountain
stands before me tall
...

you'd never know
how my heart trembled
when in the night
you spoke to me
...

i am drawn
by an unknown force
to your shore line
to your sea
...

Nameless Love
veracious truth
unyielding strength
you are a great deal too good for me
...

I do not see how I am capable of love
Whereas thousands were meant for solitude
How I ever thought I could fit my hand in that glove
I will never comprehend; ever know the mood
...

i always kinda thought it would end in a broken heart
i just never knew it would be mine

i always thought it would end in a death
...

you started out sky diving
it's not anymore
it's not even flying when someone's holding you up
...

I suddenly feel free
like I've reached the top of the mountain,
but not the reaching that has turned the key
...

If the beauty of truth were quick,
I would stand immortally at Sea,
Gazing for eternity at Sea
...

I left my heart at Sea-
they say....

In the towering lighthouse-
...

Every stroke of the violin
in this romantic love song
is a silver twisted Dagger.
The pain is far too strong,
...

The magical realm of the Victorian era
aeroplanes whistled through cleaner air
England throned the desert Sahara
...

the Sea, my home,
tamed by the wild winds
is the simple road that waits
while the refined use its rapid currents
...

As the smoke rises from the houses of the dead
The dead carry their dead from the bed to the grave
The sound of a drum beats in my head
...

no, really, you continue calling
but i do not want to speak
honestly i see too much of you
so i've spoken my piece
...