unspoilt snow

No wee
no pollution
No foot prints

Just fallen
even
Covered
Beautiful

To tread where snow has fallen
and is falling
Covering traces of foot steps once been

Locked out on the roof...
In the cold
Shut out
its beautiful
i wont care if you dont let me back in.
I am happy

i like it out here in the dark

Found Words

I found this on the floor at the 34th St, Hearald Square, Subway station. I could see a piece of crumpled white paper, with writing on it. My curiosity got the better of me, I had to know what the paper said. I was glad I picked it up.

Eyelash

An eyelash had fallen on to his cheek
I took it on my finger tip and said blow it,
now make a wish..
and secretly I wished he wished for me

Don't you know me? Don't you know me by now?

Pleasure Tears

When I walk I skip
When we kiss we dance
When it rains I stay dry

When my tears fall, it's not sadness
there pleasure tears

My skin is warm, but it tingles at his touch
The hairs on my arms stand up
He is making me come alive

Read with eyes closed

Maybe with my eyes closed
My heart was closed
Because I couldn’t see the truth

I opened my eyes
Things became clearer
I finally could see the truth

Now with my eyes open
My hearts open too

Open to heart ache, open to loving
Open for me to get hurt!

It took me to see me
See who I was, see where I’d gone
To be able to see a way back

But now things are brighter
Everything’s clearer
And I think I have fallen in Love

What does a twelve year old girl know of LOVE?

I recently found my old poem book, a country companions rough note book..man i loved writing in that thing. The illustrations are as funny as some of the poems. Until i got to a page near the back and found this poem about love.









Love

Love is like a burning fire, burning through your heart
Love is a bed of roses, blossoming in your life
Love is a world of heart’s, each heart shows he loves you more
Love is a world of lip’s, each pair of lips is a kiss
And then your loved one goes away for good
You feel your world has ended
The fire has been put out
A rose has been picked and the whole rose bed will die
Someone has died and a heart stops beating.

I wrote the Love poem aged 12 in my best writing with my best fountain pen, probably got ink stains all up my left hand writing it!

And some of the illustrations.....