A reprieve arrives, hopefully to stay
casting faint glimmers of the sun
so long held hostage by the clouded grays.
now undone.
The needed rain pulls back
but the landscape is still pale green,
frozen in time unpacked
a lime mist floating on the air can be seen.
It appears all creatures were released
from hibernation of the sudden chills
and the yard comes to recognize a quiet peace
that pervades gardens and unleashed growth is spilled.
A woodpecker knocks repeatedly
answered only by the call of distant geese
and the glow of the sun warmly heated
and robins hover singing in the trees.
A grond-hog climbs a frail cherry weeping
to challenge the squirrel presence
and the heron struts boldly around the pond creeping
looking for life and its inner essence.
Spring is reborn
producing life and color to the earth
as winter looms in the background unadorned
and spring comes alive in its rebirth.
Ons is beskaaf, want ons kan bome af kap
en stukkies hout aanmekaar lym.
Ons is nie diere nie;
want ons kan mooi woorde laat rym.
Ons is die dominante spesie
want ons kan Everest versit.
Ons het krone en gewere en landsvlae
daarom kan ons die Aarde se grond besit.
...grond wat ons later gaan word
en ons gaan omgee wanneer ons doen.
Maar die bome gaan nie omgee nie
die diere gaan nie omgee nie
die berge gaan nie omgee nie
en die grond gaan nie omgee nie...
I'm like a teardrop falling down. Slowly,slowly I touch the ground. I am pure I am bright a
teardrop shining bright.
I'm like a teardrop falling down. Slowly,slowly I hit the ground. A teardrop that falls to the
grond. Slowly,slowly I disappear.
In
love
white
lies
are kept
under
white sheets
where
whispers
roll over
pillowtops
and warm breaths
are exchanged
during
kisses of passion
but
the white lies
bundled up
spring lose
deception
that
tears up
the covers wrapped around
my head
as
I
cry myself to sleep
In love
white
lies
are told
when
we
are
thousands
of miles apart
to spare
each other
the pain of the sting
hurt feelings
we cause
THESE WHITE LIES NEVER
SEEM TO STOP
WHITE LIES
when you
tell me
i am
perfect as I am
WHITE LIES
when you tell me
i am what you want.
which is not a perfect doll
your stories have become
so entangled
with my words of i love you's
and please don't go's
as i feel like
you have let
me go
and I continue
to fall
as you watch me
fall into the grond
I have become lost in
a maze
of
your stories
and even now i go forward
following your voice trusting you that you'll get me to saftey
but
you've led me so astray
that I've
begun to lose sight
hope for us
one day
these white
lies will become
silent
and you lose me
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