Its been a strange few weeks. Between the amount of French I'm cramming into some poor lil munchkins heads and like wise the amount that is being crammed in my head, I was beginning to think all the colours floating in my head were gonna be stuck there.And like the colours in my head I felt stuck too trying to decide on different things.
Storms rage
Far beyond any man's grasp
Will it flatten your house?
Or will it just make you gasp?
Have you your path found?
Or is the fire burning inside you
Almost put out?
What comes next maybe is,
Is what you doubt.
Golden is the sunlight that streams in
Or do you choose
The moonlight that will soon
Kiss the darkened sky?
A little voice emanates
From the body before ye
Silken as honey
As kind as the breeze
That touched your toes.
The two halves
Glued as one
Yet reaching for the stars,
Each in its own way finding
Solace, rhythm, rhyme and reason.
 |
| Smudged Direction |
Far beyond any man's grasp
Will it flatten your house?
Or will it just make you gasp?
Have you your path found?
Or is the fire burning inside you
Almost put out?
What comes next maybe is,
Is what you doubt.
Golden is the sunlight that streams in
Or do you choose
The moonlight that will soon
Kiss the darkened sky?
A little voice emanates
From the body before ye
Silken as honey
As kind as the breeze
That touched your toes.
The two halves
Glued as one
Yet reaching for the stars,
Each in its own way finding
Solace, rhythm, rhyme and reason.
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