The Little Red Book

Twas the morning of Christmas, And all through the street, Merry people are forgetting, Ill thoughts for the feast. All bills be filed away, Fights paused by the bell, Any thoughts of anger and stress, Chased away by the sound of a giggle. Santa's arrival has brought in, The magic of the season, A warmth That no fire could match, With good cheer for all. Even the cat. Unwrapping presents and playing, Gives a feelings of pride, and nostalgia, With my socks in one hand and, Rexy in the other, my day is set, planned and joyful. :-) Happy Christmas everyone

After fear of death leaves me, Followed by the loss of distration, You came into my life a bubble, Keeping my senses all a twitter. Only the lass as comforting as you, Could ever be the one to, Chase away my Demons. Leaving nought, But a soldier with his dagger and sheath. In a place where wrong or right are senseless, You reside to maintain the balance, giving me a, Hope to end the fight, and shoulder no more burden, You bring to me a purpose, more daunting than battle. Fear grips me no longer. For I fight with an angel to guide me, Your grace gives me wings to fly above it all, Truly you give me the eyes to see that which is to be, Happy for in a painting of darkness and struggle. Ere-after you shall be the painter that depicts, The joy that I have in my life. The ease at the end of my day, In your eyes I shall see the days that come for you and me, My princess your name is written over my heart.

From minute one we connected, Your eyes told me a story, The truth was in the detail, And while I was severing, Every tie I had with my old mind, We formed a bond that cannot be broken. Every day I feel as though I am coming up short, And every tomorrow you give me another chance, Seasons of love and despair pass over, Life becomes the job and you are the reward, The feeling of new hope is my total world. With every beat of my heart, I feel more than I ever have before, The word love seems insignificant, Compared to the sum of feeling you have unlocked within me, So I tell you the truth with every sentence, Hoping that you always know how much I care. A vague memory is my life that was, As I move forward with renewed grace, So let us rejoice in this bridge between us, And bring together two beating hearts, To end a lifetime of wanting. In every sense of the term, you saved me. Please understand that I want nothing from you, You have already given me more than I

I awoke today to find myself dreaming, It was wonderful and strange, I just wanted to dive in, Like a child at a playground. The sweet innocence of the future, Has given me hope that the day, May be closer than we think When we can rest easy, we can rest.

Once upon a time there was a boy, He could think, a bit too much, Fear gripped him below the surface, No-one would ever knew. As the stars moved and danced their dance, The boy grew and the depth that was, Began to share a line with the surface, Those hidden fears uncovered. The weakness obvious. She used to visit him in his dreams, The scarlet lady, the Eve to his Adam, Her face always just out of focus, There to torment him into a stronger man. With her the boy knows only torment and want, Without the lady leaves a hole the boy cannot fill, A void, deep, treacherous, with a sole occupant, Can he be free, can she be forgiving?

In the endless nights when all is still, I pray to the deity that is joy that is blesses the quiet, So that others may find the serenity I do, When all is silent because silence is magnificent. Let us imagine, if only for a moment That all is well is affairs of the heart, What kind of world does that leave us? In the end does it really matter if we got it right. The land of infatuation, Joy reigns as the supreme God, But I can never go there for I am Adam, Exile from paradise and searching for eve. So let us have fun, In the land of anarchy, Because here risk rules as supreme master, And where there is risk there is happiness.

This man has devised a way to be an artist, But with no definable talent his work lays unappreciated, Hidden from the world the canvass is shrouded in the mist, Generated by the people who would do no better in his stead, All along he will build an impressive collection of broken dreams. One day the paint will dry up, the canvass will resist, The colour and beauty lay weighted down with led, For building and creating is no simple tryst, And to keep the muse singing to you from your bed, One must be one with the canvass, embracing the screams, Of each and every torturous and desperate call, From the bottom of the pit of despair, hear their call. One and all.