Hidden surprises Under pillows in fancy boxes Gifts from the motherland...
Sweet young birds you are Or butterflies Tasting the nectar of...
My self is Foreign to me now How I wish that...
Matters; it was money matters Far from madness, yes? Centipede orchards...
Your fingers in my hair Your hand on my cheek Your...
A wounded solider watches over Four graveless headstones Generations of family...
Now I lay my head to rest My weary bones put...
Oh, the joy of pen and hand Coming together To create...
How much wasted time Is spent on waiting How much energy...
If I could draw serenity I would Serenity is sleeping with...