Shall I tell thee of the soft, quiet rain?
That comes in the mist covering the land...

The morning sun thrust
his flaming arms...

Sinking into the madness
of my youth...

Questions swerve
Answers fall...

Dear Somebody,
Sometimes the stars are so bright...

Waves crashing at my fingertips
the sea's endless rage...

Look at the shapes, the lines, the flowers
See the color, the emotion, the shading...

We write these poems,
To show our feelings...

A sunflower with yellow petals to spread.
It reminds me of the opposite of dead...

Thoughts scramble throughout my head
Flow out into my pen...

I long for a world
Far away...

The dream, scary
The memory, weary...