you are the smoky warm breathon a sharp frosty mornthe day's first smileand the night's last sighyou are the pale yellow lightslanting through the oak...the far twilight bird-call,sleet echoing on the roofyou are my smile that I seein hurried reflectionson rain-blurred shop frontson rushed, breathless daysyou are the path, traced with loveon the thorniest plainsin the valleys of my heartwhere ...
Silver grey days, near turquoise waters Hands in red mittens, and smoky misty breath... Come ride the rainbow the red and yellow one to find the trails of laughter the spilled drops of the sun Do you hear the secret the icy wind whispers? The frozen trees are blooming when the merry- go-round turns… -view from the London Eye, March 2014
when stark, bare branchesbrush the window panesand rivulets of greydrip drip from aboveyou are the breathless wonderthe shafts of silver lightparting brocade curtainsof the thunderous sky deserted streets littered by whirlwinds of leavesmaking nameless patternswith faded orange huesyou are the frisky windthat hums in my eartelling me of lost dreamsand the ones to be born to me, you are ...
