Rebecca Stansfield


Rebecca Stansfield Poems

121. Ocean Of Eyes 11/20/2011
122. Silver Sea 11/20/2011
123. Sun 11/20/2011
124. What Is Mood? 11/20/2011
125. Unanswered Questions 11/20/2011
126. Love Submits A Thrill Of 11/20/2011
127. Do You Want To Be Caught? 11/20/2011
128. I Can Thrill Into Purity 11/20/2011
129. Where Will The Robin Retire? 11/20/2011
130. Silent Birds 11/20/2011
131. Time 11/20/2011
132. Dripping Tears Forever 11/20/2011
133. Sunning 11/20/2011
134. When 11/27/2011
135. Essence Of A Life When One Has A Dying Heart 11/27/2011
136. Anticipation! 11/27/2011
137. I Am, The Living Creature. 11/27/2011
138. Yellow Snow 11/27/2011
139. Yesterday Was Six Months Ago 11/27/2011
140. Lie 11/27/2011
141. Can A Fire Dance 11/27/2011
142. Eternity 28 7/18/2011
143. W.H 7/18/2011
144. Go 7/18/2011
145. Money 7/18/2011
146. Fading 28 7/18/2011
147. Fire Red Robin 7/18/2011
148. As Long As I'M In Love 7/18/2011
149. Rain 7/18/2011
150. Shadow 7/18/2011
151. Hair 7/21/2011
152. If There Was An Ocean 7/23/2011
153. Ha Home 7/22/2011
154. Emotions Coming Though My Door 7/22/2011
155. A Photograph 10/12/2011
156. Over Hills 10/12/2011
157. Months 10/12/2011
158. A Lilly Pad 10/12/2011
159. I Surrender 10/12/2011
160. Nothingness 10/12/2011

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Best Poem of Rebecca Stansfield

The Kind Of Day When Violins Play

Clouds made up of sounds of violins, the white clouds that seldom move, if you stare for days.
The birds that never seem to look angry, even as the crows, eat their own friendships.
The kind of day when the sky, looks like a flying ocean, and you want to jump up into it, not realising that you cannot fly upside down.
When the monsoon is barley a problem, because you like the look of the rain anyway, because it looks like sunrays, sunrays from the sky.
The kind of day when the trees hardly seem to sway, even if there was a tornado, you'd refuse to run away.
And the crickets that ...

Read the full of The Kind Of Day When Violins Play

Money

Where my mind suddenly to attack
And how my weak is becoming strong
That I want to punch kick and smack

Anything is I see is turing cold
How can I live so rich-less?
And with money but all bussiness
Or all money and perfect skin
What more can I do than pray outloud?

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