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There are memories I planted
deep enough to forget,
but they sprout anyway,
breaking through the soil of silence.
Some grow thorns,
some bloom softly,
some rise like weeds
I wish I never watered.
But all of them...

Pastime with good company
I love and shall until I die.
Grudge who lust, but none deny,
so God be pleased, thus live will I.
For my pastance
hunt, sing, and dance.
My heart is set:
all goodly sport
for my...

I have robbed the garrulous streets,
Thieved a fair girl from their blight,
I have stolen her for a sacrifice
That I shall make to this night.

I have brought her, laughing,
To my quietly dreaming garden.
For what will be...

The longer it takes
My heart it bakes

This thing…

I see the days
I feel the nights

This thing…

As sure as the sky is blue
All my heart wants is you!

We are all threads
Hooked to the needle of time
Poking in and out
Stitching the fabric of our lives
There are never ends or beginnings
Only life getting bigger
Until the needle
Runs out of thread!

Come live with me, and be my love;
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dales and fields,
Woods, or steepy mountain yields.

And we will sit upon the rocks,
Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks
By...

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens

The rose is a rose,
And was always a rose.
But the theory now goes
That the apple's a rose,
And the pear is, and so's
The plum, I suppose.
The dear only knows
What will next prove a rose.
You, of course, are a rose...

What days are these?
Where the gods walk amongst us
Is it a shame to them
Or vain glory to us
When they muddle themselves
The trivialities of mere mortals!

Transmute; she said
Is when one thing becomes another,
A stranger to a friend
Or a man to a father
Evening to night and so on;
Hence, I understood,
That nature moves in gradual steps
And one thing becomes the...

Tread lightly, she is near
Under the snow,
Speak gently, she can hear
The daisies grow.

All her bright golden hair
Tarnished with rust,
She that was young and fair
Fallen to dust.

Lily-like, white as...

“The problem is",
She once told me,
“There is no passion without possession,
We can’t love people,
The way we love the stars!”