Cristobal Benjumea Poems

news from the green field

i love you i love walking to your tree of fruit,
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Not because of the economy did i fail to notice your flower

or love from hate
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the flowers of many colours,
the yellow ones are like a melody like a
waltz, others are deeper
colours like the tango
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THE WILL OF THE WIND IS TO REVEAL DIVINE WISHES TO CHANGE US INTO a new form to sail the ocean to the FEAST OF ABLE, SACRED IMAGE OF THE CREATORS wishes of good, PARADISE.

THE DIVINE REALITY, VISIONS OF OUR EARTHLY HOME OF HUMANKIND
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And id rather be in a tropical garden losst amongst flowers and hazelnut treees

I dont dread the shadows of the sun
waiting for the dawn again mr jones, says postman pat
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Please stop sending me love letters, where are you are you in the garden. What flowers can you lick in this the altar surrouded by hazelnut trees, i can see your spirit but were is you body is it vexxed, my garden gate is full of ivy, my shadoww lives there, the shadow of paradise, the playground of the sun..... etc

in the clearing of the forest is a ticket to a vayage through the universe to the end of the begining.
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Love is a walk in a garden strewn with petals,

comunion with god
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Those who have strayed from the fountain in the green field,

go to have coffee, and watch the moving clouds in peshawar where thy can be annointed by the brahma prophet of the ancient rites and postures, the good one.
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love is loking at coloured flora for ten minutes,

All the flora the bottany, relaxing in front of a fire in a green field.
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love is sleeping in minds of amathyst, drinking coffee out of oyster shells, in the forest i saw you, you were a steamy double decker bus

more whisky, would that improve the alchemy of the word, the archway
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