Never before has passions description been placed on my lips as non-fiction,
And as my eyes rise its difficult to prize,
A centre away from yours.
Your breath is my oxygen,
In the moment, without it
My wings may break.
Though now shielded by yours,
Secured before an angels eyes
Stares into my soul.
My hearts weighted, elated,
This world didnt show me happiness.
The flutter rests.
Carresses replace it,
Strengths pounding with this founding,
With fire on blankets of ice on Dovedale.
A phenominal love tale.
Snow angels found the missing halo’s,
When we carved heavens in ice dust.
Sounds of the air corrupt the trees,
Winding roads match sharpness in the wind,
And the climb sinks mountains into misty water.
The coves exsist in imagination, More
Inspired by John Hughs-’Heathers’’
The tumours unpredictable,
Blind in receive of sight,
Illness exceeds. More
Living in paper towers
On a desk that doesnt think
Watching written speech get bolder.
They mean more when in a letter
The pens engravement causes shadows
As the suns rays blaze and bathe her.
My book of room will follow
Eventually I’ll run to heaven
I close my eyes a longer blink
My glowing lids a smiling craven.
The imaginations like a feather
floating over pictures
piled high in towered treasures.