Jewels in the sky, cure to lonely hearts silently...
Ever so distant, but so close, so near upon a...

The sight of grandma
in her slow walk towards the sink...

To what form shall I compare Thee, my Lord?
That I shall be complete when I attempt...

He looks at her, earnestly,
Wanting to be near her, but...

Intoxicated in flutter
while dancing with winds...

I strangely found my pen
scratching against some papers...

I know the sleepless nights are past and so are...
Now you talk to me like you can earn your own...

Dedicated to Uncle Steve Kepros of Iowa, USA
I wish I had Gibran's hand...

They drew the curtains up and fell in line
swayed slowly to the music so old in time...

Sometimes love subtly strikes against dusty...
and the remembrance of the past draws clear...