from rafters
a rope stretches its back...

my eyes breathe in the air that behold an image of...
where the colours of love dilate within my heart...

Today marks one hundred years
ago the first world war came to an end...

our land is poisoned
men jack up like Heroin...

At times I feel you are here, as I write
like you are breathing from the page...

Water-coloured tears drip-
rolling and weaving through crimson twilled...

I felt so excited,
about meeting her that evening...

I work alone,
but I am part of a team...

So many mornings-
depression cracked...

She can change her mind
like the weather, which is true...

With oaken roots, an English rose did grow
from natures womb a noble tree was born...

Two flavours of life
such beautiful opposites...