I am calm
Adrift on an ocean of wet
With the gentle seas
carressing my every need
Evermore
I shall be freed
From the tumultous roar
Found far from here,
Adrift on an ocean of wet.

The eyes, herbal eyes
Glistening down
As showers of moondrops
Cluster arround
To bear me away
Safe and sound
To where I'm ment to be
Afloat upon this sea.

I can be the wind
Winding its way
Through the mazes of islands
Peppering the horisons
And scattering the birds
As the flutter to and fro
To and fro
Encompasing
Their evervescent dreams
With the rasping cries
That toll the hours
Away at sea.

And surely
The surety
Of the musty beams
Must seem
So false.
But I know,
I know
That the sea-made clasps
They bring me on
Like fire from the sun.

I am serene
Unseen
I pass above the waves
Crashing in on unrevealed shores.
The gate unlocks to heaven's doors
And scarlet fire does kiss the darkness
And all is flaming bliss and peace
Upon the ocean's starkness.

And surely
The surety
Of the creaking beams
Must seem
So false.
But I know,
I know
I'd rather die
In the ocean's embrace
Than never see the sun.





Hmmmm.
Yes.
Yesterday was Sunday. That is a fairly unremarkable statment, a sort of one in seven, but not just any Sunday it were.
I awoke, with clouded breath
TO the chill greetings of the frosty snow
As it wafted down from untold heights to blanket our fair land
In a frosting of pure unadalterated white.
I remember thinking very un-Christian thoughts.
Hoping it would snow too heavy so that I could miss Sunday services and instead enjoy lucious wonderful snow.
IT did not eventuate, with the snow stopping and starting all over the show.
Until just after about 3 pm, the sun comed out once again, and the snow was
Within ten minutes never forever more.
So sad it were
But the beauty impresses on me still.
It were a nice Sunday it were


Today had bad bad bad bad presentation of poster and speak that were unprepared.
Lashed it together with bindings of blind optimism, I am hoping it is not the complete shite I am feeling it is right now
Time will tell, but marks more so.
As it so happens. I
am too much the tired
To be doing anything more tonight
And I shall bow out with dignity....