Digital photo by Louis. Dow Wetlands, Sarnia. Samsung ST-67 photo.
c2011 (S)
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Friday, August 19, 2011
No One There.
c2011 (S)
Soft fingers tug at my heartstrings
A voice in the night, inside of my head
I turn, and there is no one there.
***
Doigts douce tirant à mes sentiments.
Une voix dans la nuit, à l'intérieur de ma tête.
Je passe, et il n'y a nul il.
Soft fingers tug at my heartstrings
A voice in the night, inside of my head
I turn, and there is no one there.
***
Doigts douce tirant à mes sentiments.
Une voix dans la nuit, à l'intérieur de ma tête.
Je passe, et il n'y a nul il.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Stone, bark, feather
c2011 (S)
I paddled upon a great river
Stepping ashore, casting aside my burden
You were there to greet me
Do you recall that day?
Do you remember what you said that day?
That was the day you gave me a stone,
And a feather, and a piece of birchbark
I thank you for your words and your gifts
They come straight from the heart
That's all I was really looking for.
I paddled upon a great river
Stepping ashore, casting aside my burden
You were there to greet me
Do you recall that day?
Do you remember what you said that day?
That was the day you gave me a stone,
And a feather, and a piece of birchbark
I thank you for your words and your gifts
They come straight from the heart
That's all I was really looking for.
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Prophecy.
c2011 (S)
With deadly malice and unerring aim
The slender bolt, its point touched with flame
Into the thatch, so carelessly flown
The hand is revealed, the face still unknown
And the raging flames by the strong winds are blown
Out of the smoke, straight through the pyre
An apparition, he steps from the fire
His armour bright, the blade strong and true...
Lo and behold, from his ashes and his dust
The Phoenix arises, as surely he must--
Surely he knows thee, and the flavour of your mind
For you always come back, and when it is time
He will make short work, of you and your kind.
With deadly malice and unerring aim
The slender bolt, its point touched with flame
Into the thatch, so carelessly flown
The hand is revealed, the face still unknown
And the raging flames by the strong winds are blown
Out of the smoke, straight through the pyre
An apparition, he steps from the fire
His armour bright, the blade strong and true...
Lo and behold, from his ashes and his dust
The Phoenix arises, as surely he must--
Surely he knows thee, and the flavour of your mind
For you always come back, and when it is time
He will make short work, of you and your kind.
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