#0044 - "Drizzle, drizzle, little weasel;"

Drizzle, drizzle, little weasel;
Let your tears fall to the carpet.
Trick me once, you’ll be forgiven.
Trick me twice, and you’re a weasel.

Laughter comes to you as sadness:
Fake and underpinned by cunning.
Tears and laughter that you offer
Only search for thoughtless pity.

By your tricks I’ve been deceived, but
I won’t in your presence falter
Once again, for what you’ve done has
Left its mark upon my conscience.

Thanks to you my trust has faltered:
I no longer wish to be a
Punching bag for honeyed parlance.
Drizzle, weasel: I’ll ignore you.

#0043 - "Green is not the only hue of nature"

Water flowing through the wooded acres,
Carving paths through Daisy-littered grasslands:
Visions I consider ever sacred.

Feel the grassy carpet with your hands and
Do not fear the clouds that fill the distance;
Knowledge, beauty: both are framed by bookends.

Find your place within this precious silence,
Fearing not the storm that's soon arriving;
Rain is part of nature's peaceful parlance.

Drizzle, rain, for now you're steady falling.
Fill this lush verdure and florid pasture,
Fill this landscape with your silent roaring.

Green is not the only hue of nature.

#0042 - "Hush"

Hush, my child.

I know you wish to know why the ocean waves churn in sea shells.
I know you wish to know why the sky is the same color as your eyes.
I know you wish to know why the stars only come out in the nighttime.
I know you wish to know why the end of the rainbow is never ever found.
I know you want to know why some things taste good and some things taste bad.
I know you want to know why some nights you have dreams and some nights you don't.
I know you want to know why some words you're not allowed to say without trouble.
I know you want to know why some people like to hurt or ignore each other.
I know you wonder why we exchange paper instead of simply sharing.
I know you wonder why we are sometimes so afraid of each other.
I know you wonder why we don't dream once we're "old."
I know you wonder why we are all so...strange.

But honestly, my child,
Often I feel that I know even less than you do.

#0041 - "Winter always ends"

Our doors were frozen over - we were blocked in.
The winds outside howled as if retribution for some grave sin.
Through days and nights the snow grew,
Always somewhere in alteration between a polar tundra or slough.
The pale white was never less than three meters deep,
And through the cracks in our walls the cold winds would seep.
The raging Winter went on for many nights:
Ostensibly never-ending, but then we saw a light
Outline our shutters. It was a shade of white and yellow
That melted away the dull, cold grey of the snow.
We all clamored to the window to gaze upon our discovery,
Pulling close to the icy glass to see what we could see.
About ten meters from the front-facing wall of our battered house
Was a spot of green grass that refused to espouse
The totalitarian grate that the Winter loudly proclaimed,
And its own spot in the wasteland of frost it claimed.
From this patch of green we watched as, slowly, a bud appeared.
It lifted itself out of the earth: through the freezing cold it seared.
In an explosion of florid brilliance, it opened its little bud
To show its magnificent Rose - the lifeblood
Of this barren land. As we watched, we forgot the winter's billowing
And thought of the coming sun and Spring.
We remembered that grey clouds will always make amends
With blue sky, and that Winter always ends.

#0040 - Thought 13

I know that life is as complex as calculus,
and that it is more tremendous than La Terre.

I simply ask that you help by refraining from confusing me,
for I am vulnerable to distractions.

#0039 - "While walking through this sunlit glade"

While walking through this sunlit glade
Well-brightened by this sunny day,
As I was passing, 'long the way,
I chanced upon a fresh bouquet

Of Daisy, Lavender and Rose,
Whose florid odors filled my nose.
From this bouquet my vision rose;
Among the trees were scattered does.

With wary eyes they stared at me,
Who in their home they first time see;
They wonder who this beast could be,
Residing in their forestry.

The flowers are of lovely hue,
But stirring fear I'd quickly rue;
And so I move along in lieu
Of picking florid red and blue.

#0038 - Thought 12

I'm not sure which is more frightening:
Plato's fire,
or the dark shadows it casts.