Away, melancholy,
Away with it, let it go.
Are not the trees green,
The earth as green?
Does not the wind blow,
Fire leap and the rivers flow?
Away melancholy.
The ant is busy
......
At the bottom of my garden
There's a hedgehog and a frog
And a lot of creepy-crawlies
Living underneath a log,
There's a baby daddy long legs
And an easy-going snail
And a family of woodlice,
All are on my nature trail.
There are caterpillars waiting
......
Piecemeal the summer dies;
At the field's edge a daisy lives alone;
A last shawl of burning lies
On a gray field-stone.
All cries are thin and terse;
The field has droned the summer's final mass;
A cricket like a dwindled hearse
Crawls from the dry grass.
From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
......
When children are playing alone on the green,
In comes the playmate that never was seen.
When children are happy and lonely and good,
The Friend of the Children comes out of the wood.
Nobody heard him, and nobody saw,
His is a picture you never could draw,
But he's sure to be present, abroad or at home,
When children are happy and playing alone.
......
On a rocky shore she sits alone under the darken skies, a flock of gulls glided away in search of food supplies.
She stares ahead in time to see the sun before the rise. She was amazed to see its rays tickling the pinky skies.
The foamy waves moved to and fro caressing the rocky shores, the hidden tides away they drew, brushing the sandy floors.
The morning breeze flowed away tousling her tidy hair, fondling her rosy cheeks with all the love and care.
Along the coast the bush did grow between the grass and tree, to all the bears a place of nest for every honey bee.
......
My head is a heavy boat.
Full of lead lined thoughts locked in iron chains.
A swell hits the top sails, a wave rocks the moors and everything topples to one side.
The boat tips. I can feel it tipping.
The bottle holds a message though. The drift will take it ashore.
The barge will be just the kindling of a story told once before.
The overwhelming feeling of panic and regret
before my eyes fell forever,
was the worst pain imaginable.
You couldn’t see it then
but there was happiness in the shadows
and love on its way to you.
The world was sending you laughter and smiles,
you had so much life to live.
......
I'm nobody, who are you?
You're somebody you say, is that true?
Well I can't be somebody, they say it's not so.
I am nobody and that's all I know.
Well yes, I AM me, but that's all that I've got.
Still a somebody I am not.
I can't deny what they say I am--
......
Greedy and selfish,
I'm thinking about how to detain you in verse.
To encircle my verses with your beauty.
A necklace of words, to put it bluntly, quite unusual.
To try to talk about your beauty.
Your eyes look at me from the verses.
To overcome the winds which don’t leave your hair in peace.
Your own hands to hand me over to the devil
......