When The Bell TollsThey fell upon a midnight oil;A gold mine; heart and soul.They joined a passion so deepest heart,Until the iridescent bell rung and toll.They sang their song; each other's words,Actions blessed in unity.They embraced their emotions and with their mouths,Promised love for eternity.As time went on, the lover's held,Sweet embraces o'er years.Love and peace sank in their hearts,Eyes so filled with tears.Beneath the blackened yet starlit sky,They whispered nothings so pure.They overcast a wistful song,Each others overture.Deathly banishment came and sought,Unwilling volunteers.One last embrace, one frightened word,Wished living of long years.Pain and grief tore the heart,Heaven shed its tear.Whispering sweet nothings to,A lover, yet gone, still here.Alone, afraid, cold to the bone,Hardened by one death.Still seeks calm in times of trial,On a lover, which dying wreath.
The DreamerHe ran up and over the mountain towards the glorious city of Glentow.His bare feet dug into the hot desert sand as he raced across the mountainous dunes, passed the rare desert shrub and over a carcass.He panted hard, the desert air burning his lungs.He cried as he tripped on a twisted, dry, log, landing face-first in the sand. Standing, he recovered, and spat out the mouthful of dirt.He ran again.Paul ran as fast as he could, bare feet blistered, boiled and scratched. Painfully, he continued forward to the magnificent city. He could see it now; it shone in the Sun; the glass buildings looming above the horizon.'Almost
' the Dreamer panted.Suddenly the scene changed. He was no longer wearing a white toque, and he was no longer bare foot. He was no longer running through the desert, and his feet were no longer injured.He was in a rainforest.He was wearing a camouflaged jacket, a bullet-proof hat, army boots and was carrying a rifle. A bayonet was attached sturd
You Are Beauty'To be witness to such beauty, such an honour to view such splendour. For to have the priviledge to lay eyes upon a magnificent creature of which this world has produced, brings me joy of which shall not ever be reproduced within the mortal realms of earth.'For God himself would not have had the great power to forge such a majestic angel from the dust of this place of dark, of light. He would not be able to create an image of which you yourself behold. An unearthly beauty not seen in heaven itself.'For I in my years have never seen a human being with glorious blue eyes of the ocean, with hair of the lion, with curves of the smooth rocky cliffs, beaten endlessly by the waters of the Great Sea. Never before was there skin dwelling on this planet so smooth, so toned, so perfectly illustrated.'Perfect markmenship went into that face, markmenship not of heaven, not of hell, not of earth, but of the stars. Eyes sparkling like a freshly formed star, lightyears away. Never in my being have
Summer-ChildThe heat boiled the sweat right off my face; another of my perfect Australian Summers.I loved them.It kind of ticked me off how Summer would be so evenly matched by the Australian Winter; the way the climate changed infuriated me! One moment, the Sun would burn you like a sausage on the barbecue, but the next, the wind could slice your face clean off!It was insane, but it was home.Most argued that Autumn and Spring were the best months; not too hot, not too cold. I agreed too, they were pleasantly warm months, but I would kill to swap them all for a constant Summer.I know, it would be like living in an oven if Australia experienced 365 days of Summer in succession, but I guess I must be the rare type, and would prefer to be roasted than frozen.Well, that's me. The Summer-Child.It happened one day at school; a sudden shift in temperature and a strong wind from the South; a cold Antarctic wind that sent chills up my spine, causing my brain to freeze over.I dropped my large pile o