I've had thee, all mine
if thou wilt.
I'll find subtle way to cure 
tremble at the words.
My dearest June, love beckons.
drama~
Through every lasting place
thou promise of such
thy hearts desire, sweet June.
Mark me well, lair of earth,
murmur of the birds.
~~
Whatever approaches the beating wings
oracular of drama, world of pain.
 

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I'll tour the fields come APril.
Tip toe through the showers,
lifts tune, TUlip bloom.

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Humpback steamer trunk sales off on a red star line. I've lost the keys traveling to america from Europe and the camel is at the back. should i unpack or just roll along with the newspaper traveling north rusty travel trunk
looking upstairs to the chair
under the sea
of the waters
wanting to know and how (key) came out? en route, we stopped i painted the sea. I swear my tears are cold said, ha...

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At the end of my field and at the beginning of the door
a mouse has learned to play 
the key notes inside the door 
when the rain flushed the mouse out came my doors
tried to catch the mouse at the foot notes on the piano were he fell to the floor then out the door
the rain flooded my floor and locked the door
and the key notes have been washed on the floor and the mouse cannot find the door...

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Sound plays out held into the day,
forever.
With this May,
may I hold Sofia's hand?
Left the beating of the day.
With this came a little while.
For this Sofia, when?
It's once upon this day.
Would you please, don't despair.
i'm not waiting another day.

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someone is singing ~ love
I don't care! 
shines bright with a stare
and the notes that are full ~ fall out of place
try not too tell the moon~ all at once
I don't want the blue moon ~ spun the notes ~ that have run out of time 
shooting stars ~ last all night.

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Balancing to stay within the walk,
the wind has moved right in and caused a spin to stay.
Colors and the energy are in the air,
quantum perception as autumn foliage has been left unsaid, and to this lore falls on the day itself.
October 25th, Sunday afternoon in the woods,
all by myself. Wind and light after the rain.
A bird falling for the fox as it sings, and there comes the winter crow to...

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Telling oneself, sending
half minded emotions. 
Stayed behind, find the right words to say.
Then thoughts of our idyllic hun,
ever varying rhythm so, so far away.
Playing different, repeat varied rhythm, give or take.
Tenderest exchange, all the levels seemed to be the same.

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1/8 oz Penny
Lure into a dampen storm
late afternoon notes to explain
briefly play away no matter rain
here comes moment wandering here comes
my spare penny comes into the middle, so sweet
here comes, how you play
~
play the moment through, i'll explain
afternoon rain dampens lure
play the afternoon rain dampens lure
~
I'm aware, i wonder if i can a gentle move, silenced rain
exactly ...

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All of my writing can be found on the Blog I keep for that purpose. It features poetry, and soe prose like ramblings. It is my journey.. I hope that you wil join me on it from time to time. 

www.mselyse.com

Namaste~ Ms Elyse

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