Shall I return to fading scribes of old?
That once with each a turn and covered page...

The snowy lilies gird her pith - in wake;
bejewelled love reposed in truest sleep...

(I)
Though man with plenty whom proclaim your love...

Is it her taking, that deprives my rest
Of sweetly nothings offered by a sleep...

To lay amidst the sweetest ocean breeze:
And nestle me to sand a sandy bed...

Before your ever blackness comes, let know:
By candle lit, your light lives in new breath...

Behind the thoughtless rush that rules my dome;
Rebels a thought to it's impermanence...

To dearest love of mine, that has yet been:
Tho' sight reveals you not, by love I know...

The sadness holds me helpless as the sand-
Awaits for waves to drown it's grains with salt...

Turn off the sun and moon, to view your form
As purest as the light that then just dimmed...

It does appear to me that souls' deceased;
Whom died by cancer's deadly spread of mole...

When I foresee the doom pollution brings:
I rush to fresher air, but sighing more...