Hiraeth and Heart

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Not here anymore

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  The sound of the crashing waves Reminds me of a time When the silhouette of the silver moon Slowly melted in his eyes And the shallow sand Too shy of his charm Slipped across his tender fingers. I could almost trace  This uncalled movement of his hair While he smelled of this sweet summer rain I am to ascertain his presence  If he was any real Because he no longer sits here  To be washed ashore with me. He is no longer here.
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When I am Old

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  A day, I would be less conscious of Of a sojourn I wouldn't remember When snow would please me none Let my chimney burn with smoke Ere kids gift me lavender berries Let me bake a black forest. My pastel walls would peel off soon And meowing cats would roll off yarns Flowy flocks would not beam With velvety bangs I once had. When my eyes would deny the tint it had And dawn would break with hue less shines Thus, I would lay On this bed of blue bells Grieve me not Youthful as April I had been Remember, A petal withers once  But blooms yet again.
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Before Me

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  Many a poets have described  This memory of a reflected crimson escaping eyes  And bouncing off a breezy silk I couldn't tell more The difference of a sunset and those eyes But why should I They have far too much of it. If you would listen,  I know of this lush cave  With forgotten English ivy  Suspended like a fragile twine  But mistrust me less I have never dwelled more. And you see this turquoise water  A stranger once wrote 'Turquiose is a sadder blue' But, Did he ever see this? Woe to woo. But I might be unjust  To this fairness I graced  My eyes might have betrayed  Hitherto this beauty You could see more. 》Before Me
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