I Miss YouIt's horrible to say thatMy only way of expressing myselfIs toSing or to writeSongs which seem to have no meaning forYouOr me because history reads there is noUs
Through Your EyesIt was through your eyes that I was able to see,The dark, the light, the grey in-between.Although you only see in black and white,I know that your heart and mind are set right.You wish to run, to explore the world,But without us to return to, in a ball you are curled.Without your ever joyful presence I fear,That I will be losing something very dear:A soul that knows no evil,A mind ever eager,A tail which is never motionless,A friend, who is always there.When I speak my fears aloud,By you, my mind unclouded.So never run away,Don't leave me here astray.
Spring has sprungScent of flowers everywhereOne cannot help but stareFor the beauty surrounds us soAs another season comes and goesTightly coiled for so longBut here we areSpring has sprung
Englyn Milwr StanzasWhile wisps of clouds are fewFrom shades of pink to blueThe heavens enchant youAs twilight paints the skyDo you your heart denyOr to your dreams complyIn the distance, a bird,A crow makes himself heardThe dawn becomes his word
Moonlight and RainMy fingers taste the water asIt drips from raging skyAll draped in misty sheets of greyAnd lit by silver eye.I walk the silent streets aloneBeneath this gentle glowAs raindrops fall from up aboveAnd fill the cracks below.I stand here on these city streetsBeside a clogging drain,Ignore the soaking of my boots,And smile at the rain.
Old GrowthA moment only--if I cannot standhere in this forest for a moment moreat least, just once, I want to feel this landcarved up by roots, and stretching to the shoreof broken limestone cliffs. These trees have seena century by now, at least, and grownamongst young pines, and grown betweenbright birches. Nearby a copper river flowsand falls into cascades of burnished foam.A moment only--then the world is soachingly small. I want to go back homebut everything is blurred, and I can't knowhow many years these woods can still endure;I wish I could--but I am so unsure.
Snow-Dusted PinesWhite plumes from chimneys,and snow-dusted pines:I can think of few things more emblematic,of such a reflective time.The evenings filled with tiny lights:each a little spark of cheer,and the woodsmoke at twilight:an aroma of possibilities to come,at the closing of the year.And each flake's tiny touch of wetness upon your face,is Nature giving you back a tear you once shed,its cold and soothing numbness carrying away,worries that refuse to leave your head.And ancient Orion and the Dipperin the spangled blackness above,each give their lightto everyone just the same,to their judgement alone,your soul shall stand naked:stripped of its pretensionsof both pride and blame.And it's an ancient hope they give you:that's far more profoundthan the shallower concernsthat hide in the light of day;that no matter what happens,their light will always be there-no matter how badlyyou might lose your way.And when your contemplation is finished,you continue on your walk,
Dark Rose This dark rose is beauty in it's sightThe morning dew glitters in dawn's first lightFor burrowed deep in my stem are thorns sharp to the touchSo many, all but one, haven't come 'round muchBut,You can avoid wounds and take in all my beauty if you hold me right
'Til Time Stops TickingTime exist since we perceive change,From moving atoms to beating hearts,From machines simple to worlds strange,All because of the changing of the parts,When is the end of time, no one can truly know and say,Some say it's heat death, when there's no more day,Time ends when there's is nothing left to change,And even then, that era can even be more strange.
My Way Homestillness descendsa single flake of snowsoftly apprehendsthe footprints of my soulfluttering around melifting and droppingempty of ironycandor silencingheralding horizons of elationsuch welcomed tidings bid my mind farewellbears a fortune of no computationso light to carry such wealth which compelsdiscovering contours of winding roadslife jovially communing with breezelistening, trees whisper familiar odeswith eyes closed I make my way home
Chemistry of loveThe synthesis of gazes,Combustion of the thoughts;Solution of amazingWith sweet, romantic notes.The boiling excitementAnd melting of the heart;The state of feeling lighter,Distilled from sense-filled part.It saturates your being,Yet never feels enough -This catalyst of breathing,This chemistry of love.
Paradise`s GatewayThrough the setting sun lightthere stands a tall archwaylighting up the crawling shadowsthat grow at the end of each dayStanding proud before me nowthis imposing great structurebeckons me to enter throughas instructed by my cultureCold dark stone from ages pastremnants that have stood so longcrumbled and weathered by timeyet remain for you and I, so strongFor this, paradise`s gatewayan entrance to another placeone where pain will be no moreonly tranquility and graceThis heavenly lintel brightcalling me to pass on throughhesitant, as I ponder a momentbut all I want is to be with you!© Lissie Bull 2014
Four Times A YearSeasons changeFour times a yearSome bringing joyOthers tearsBut whilst the wind may turn to rainThe colours of Autumn are here once again