Beneath her blanketed love I sit in deep...
seeing myself as I really am...

I'm finished and done!
All my plans have been dusted...

Poetry is odd.
Simply because, it reveals an element of a person...

Round and round and around,
life is like a kiddies play-ground...

Desire is that sense of need warped by longing
a frenzied feeding zone for predators...

Consider yourself, oh butterfly.
Each day you prance about in your lacey glory...

Hello dear friend hello old foe!
Bippity boppity boo, I wonder how I know you...

The wind whispers softly to me
The water droplets dancing around...

What use is a word
when it merely emphasises silence...

Remember how I spent nights,
weaving intricate rhymes on this site...

Hello dear friend where have you been?
I've been buried alive in your happy dreams...

One of these days our hearts will soar,
we'll be joyous forevermore...