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Candy Sweet Words To My Soul
Humbling wise words of the worthy.
I hear you like chanting birds to the abyss of my soul, sweet melody that whispers kindly to my ear.
I am, so you are.
I speak to you body of matter, as i come from within you, some call me soul.
For we are one and once understood, granted valleys of calm will seek light to your abyss. Lift you with ease and end the troubled seas that hunt your being.
Candy sweet words that speak smoothly to me.
Let me rejoice in the delightful comfort of being one, body and soul,
perfect balance in these unstable times, wicked by nature but wise and humble by heart.
Allow me to listen with caution, learn from the sailor as well as the captain.
Amid thes troubled times, let me not seek for shelter under the wrotten trees but grant me knowledge to travel by the stars and not paths made by man.
Sweet words of the wise, held in my heart.
May i always seek the truth, so my written words may lay in paper with heavy ink of troubled thoughts. As the bark of my fingers grasp with friction the flying words and my poems catch on fire.
© Arthur Normal
I hear you like chanting birds to the abyss of my soul, sweet melody that whispers kindly to my ear.
I am, so you are.
I speak to you body of matter, as i come from within you, some call me soul.
For we are one and once understood, granted valleys of calm will seek light to your abyss. Lift you with ease and end the troubled seas that hunt your being.
Candy sweet words that speak smoothly to me.
Let me rejoice in the delightful comfort of being one, body and soul,
perfect balance in these unstable times, wicked by nature but wise and humble by heart.
Allow me to listen with caution, learn from the sailor as well as the captain.
Amid thes troubled times, let me not seek for shelter under the wrotten trees but grant me knowledge to travel by the stars and not paths made by man.
Sweet words of the wise, held in my heart.
May i always seek the truth, so my written words may lay in paper with heavy ink of troubled thoughts. As the bark of my fingers grasp with friction the flying words and my poems catch on fire.
© Arthur Normal
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