A little ruby-throated bird
Landed there without a word
Upon the roof, the bird alighted
Looking regally beknighted
As I kneel,
A ghost of a smile
Passes over my lips.
Ironies too cruel to admit.
These cherry blossoms drifting everywhere,
My senses overwhelmed but not yet gone.
This fog, it clouds my vision here and there,
I wonder just how far from here to yon
Why, when looking to Him,
Do we look up and not back?
Why, when we cannot be bothered to look,
To poetry or not to be
The life of the letter r
Je vais et je dois en rêver
D'une vie plus fantastique
D'une vie plus simple
How long will the Illusion be surkept?
For naught, we all have wept
For naught, and also all the things that be—
To live is to survive Eternity
She awakens in the night
He slyly slips through an unlocked window
She turns to her infant's sibilant slumbering,
wondering where the world will take them
it's a very dangerous place to be
when all you can hear is the sound
of your own voice