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Tuesday, 8 March 2011

Sleep, Don't Weep

Sleep, Don't Weep



A blanket of blue and green
A pillow of red and gold
Lay me down in the Earth
My treasure will it hold.

As birds soar, and grass is new
I will lie and wait for you
Do not cry, do not weep
I rest my lover, I am asleep.



Echos on the Plain


Thunder echos across the plain,
Shining, Vibrant,
they're off again!

Flaxen, Chestnut, 
Grey and Black,
Courage and beauty they do not lack.

Chests pounding, nostrils wide
The wild of freedom,
In full stride.

Roaring, Snorting, Crying loud,
Dancing heads,
their tails streaming,
proud.

Racing, Flying
There is no course
Oh! What thrill! What joy!
To be a horse!

All the sky is blue...

 You know, I can never tell if sharing my thoughts and dreams with the internet world is a rediculous notion or not. I have so many of them, and often, they never make sense.
When I dream, I dream big. I'm a thinker, a muse, an "idea's man"- I have trouble seeing things through unless it's something I'm particular inspired by, passionate about or forced to do, but I cling to the hope that my dreams, my visions, can inspire others, and I think thats why I journal.



Beauty. Can one really define that word? It's not just about something that's pleasing to the eye, beauty is something that moves the soul, it's a creation, a fountain of emotions and abandonment. - The sound of leaves rustling on the breeze on a crisp, clear summer morning, while a bird sings it's joyus song and the butterfly wanders across the lawn.
- The sound of waves crashing, a constant beat of assurity, upon the dark, slippery rocks and the lonely call of a gull.



- The smell of a lamb roast in the oven, the satisfying sounds of reliable, everyday sounds. A kitchen chair scraping across the tiles, the fizz and hiss of something cooking on the stove, the sound of your mother humming a mindless tune as she works.
- A simple piece of music that stirs more than mere memories of a love, or a loss from years gone by.
- The hug of a child, with their chubby little arms clasped around your neck and their innocent giggles of delight mixed with the impish glint of cheekiness in their eyes, large and at awe of everything in the world.




These are the things that inspire me. They generate hope. Hope, generates a future and a future generates a thirst for life and living.

 Don't wait until it's too late to be inspired, to live, to have hope. Because the world needs your own, unique perspective of Beauty. Your beauty, can be someone else's hope.