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To come to thee and be thy love
for proud and independent dove
seems tempting not by it to pass
to be thy victory – alas.

She mourns the dreadful craving for
delights to wither and to store,
she sees herself as pleasure tamed
as things are growing sad as named.

And thou, a random pick on earth;
how dare thee play to be of worth?
The dove is better off with kind
which finds no balance in thy mind.

That is what I to thee will say,
since then to turn to her I may.
Thou silly dove. Forget thy pride,
and put thy vanity aside.

To fly, and always to be new
in sunlight and in morning dew,
is secondary to the trait
of being to the random bait.

Let these delights thy sweet mind move
and be in man exam to prove.
The hawk must take thee by the claw
for thee to turn from flight to law.


This poem I have presented on the blog hop of dVerse at


The darkness is no friend of yours.
The darkness in, we shut the doors.
The darkness by, no joy is found,
the darkness sad to have around.

Be certain it is not your way
to hinder night's début to day.
Be certain in the darkness light
makes turning to the day all right.


Instead of ridiculing God
by saying one can sin a lot,
one should see God works by the blood
from heart which is unfriendly not.

You see, if you do ridicule
the love of God, your mind is set.
Instead of being such a fool,
one should deserve, the love to get.

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Now I am dead beyond belief
and by that I have found relief.
I am no longer capable.
My being is just loveable.

They saw to it my fear is known.
No longer I am on my own.
And what they did achieve by that
is my hell to be heading at.

:. † .:


The tree did never get it right.
It went off from the ground to light,
but what it made, as first to come,
was leaf, as if delight to some.

When it took place, the tree, as growth
it really did not make an oath.
It saw the soil as where to start
as if adapting turns to art.

And when it grew, in one – two – three,
from fear of failing it was free.
I think it in a way believed
that Jesus by one is relieved.

The tree, you see, was never smart.
But it is smart to have a heart.
And by the root the tree is mind
determined on to be a kind.

And sweetly dreaming is the tree,
about to justice coming free.
And nuts and pine-cones it might get,
or fruit, if so by God is set.

:·. † .·:


girl catches a glimpse
of the first cherry blossom
and blushes proudly

:·. † .·:
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