My Spring

Her name was Spring, but she visited me when my summer was in the light. Her fresh breeze danced like those in May and her warmth softly tickled the Daisies' eyes. Small birds started chirping enthusiastically when she carefully made her entrance. The leaves of my favorite tree greeted her gently with a soft shade of their green. She smiled and kissed me on my cheeks. Oh spring, you make the earth like a child which knows poems.

annoise me not

Silence takes a while to absorb, our ears are not familiar with the monotone flow of all that is does suddenly not. I close my eyes and concentrate to shut down my ears which persistently attempt to hear something in the silence. I now feel at ease, my always so schizophrenically disorganised thoughts dissolve and I stop thinking, worrying about things in time and place. I fly, I float, I sleep, and then I disappear. Alone I am not, because I am not or am I? Silence, I am.