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
Winter BreathWinter wakes with a sighwind quakes a long good-bye
Winter WindWinter WindOccasional rush of chilly airI clutch my muffler tightSomeone beside me shiversI must conceal my delightThey dress so simply despite the weatherThey must cough and sneeze all nightI spend my time to prepareAnd I feel all right
Llamas...Soft lovely furLong towering necksAvailable when travel occursAid to many treksSo sweet, so adorableCan spit for milesCan withstand heat that is unbearableThey are in our hearts for long whilesOut in the desert, they help us exploreOn the internet, they given to friendsOut in the desert, they fight through the sandstorm's roarOn the internet, the fun never ends.It's freakin' great to be a llama.
Freeze my tears.Oh-winter spirit that follows me while I approach my home.Lift me up instead of the flaps of my jacket.Kiss my lips instead of letting your frost bite me.Oh-winter spirit.Lift your fingers to my eyes on those winter blue days.Freeze my tears, and let them stop flowing.Oh-winter spirit.Are you good or bad?
Ender's HomeMy home is dark and foreboding, tricking and goading.My home is old and weak, not a place for the meek.My home is dusty and bland, not at all like normal land.My home is a star, though not quite that far.From the warm reaches of Earth. With eyes that see a thousand distant miles, I can see the many piles.Of the logs players call home.My home is my home, where I am free to roam.My home is alone, where not even the winds moan.All strangers beware, for I carry a mighty flare.A flash of light, and you will never know your plight.A terribal roar, and you do not exist anymore.My home is my home, so leave me alone.Unless you are food.
SunriseWalking up the overgrown trailJust before dawnI continue up the dimly lit pathNearing the summit, I suppress a yawnRacing the sun I reach the topTrees to my back- mountains aheadI stand at the top of a rocky cliffCarefully to the edge I treadOff the peak, my legs dangleAs I patiently wait for the visual elationThe sky blazes hazy orange, mixed with hues of pinkThe colour wheel unfolds as the sun rises in elevationThe vibrant orange ball slowly creeps upEmerging from its hiding place, the rocky coverAs it climbs, the light show dwindlesIn a couple minutes, the blue sky will smotherThe show over, I start on my way homeHowever short my entertainment, I am not upsetBecause tomorrow I will be back againThe most devoted fan the sun never met.
Today's WeatherUnable to decide, the day changed back and forth,Attempting to accessorize its weather,Between the sunshine scarf and strands of snowflake pearls,And even tried to wear the two together.
The White WolfThe white wolf stands in the autumn leavesAwaiting the arrival of the cool winter breezeFor he knows when the snow comesHe can hide away with easeHis marshmallow fur will blend right inWhen the hunters come looking for him againHe will be able to hide in plain sightFor his fur is shimmering snow whiteHe dreads the day when the snow goes awayBecause he knows that is when he will have to playWith the hunters who come with guns, large in sizeFor the white wolf knows he does not want to be their prize
Walk it AwayGive me a winter run through a sieve.Sieve-like the midnight the winter light gives,Cold to the bone-core, pungent and bold.Bold comes the sunlight, piercing the cold;Forever come changes in seasons of weather,Whether the winter comes each year forever.
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