Silent Noon By Dante Gabriel Rossetti


Your hands lie open in the long fresh grass,—

The finger-points look through like rosy blooms:

Your eyes smile peace. The pasture gleams and glooms

'Neath billowing skies that scatter and amass.

All round our nest, far as the eye can pass,

Are golden kingcup-fields with silver edge

Where the cow-parsley skirts the hawthorn-hedge.

'Tis visible silence, still as the hour-glass.



Deep in the sun-search'd growths the dragon-fiy

Hangs like a blue thread loosen'd from the sky:—

So this wing'd hour is dropt to us from above.

Oh! clasp we to our hearts, for deathless dower,

This close-companion'd inarticulate hour

When twofold silence was the song of love.


To beautiful...


Much Peace and Sunshine

Last Picnic by Charles Simic



Before the fall rains come,
Let’s have one more picnic,
Now that the leaves are turning color
And the grass is still green in places.

Bread, cheese and some black grapes
Ought to be enough,
And a bottle of red wine to toast the crows
Puzzled to find us sitting here.

If it gets cold—and it will—I’ll hold you close.
Night will come early.
We’ll watch the sky, hoping for a full moon
To light our way home.

And if there isn’t one, we’ll put all our trust
In your book of matches
And my sense of direction
As we grope our way in the dark.

Wade

The Last Picnic, how lovely. Thank you ever so much for sharing...


Much Peace and Understanding

As I was walking up the stair, I met a man who wasn't there
He wasn't there again today, oh, how I wish he'd go away.

Heres a verse from a song I'm writing...

If you believe in anything then realise this is relevent, cause DMT is seeking me to be at one with elements.
If you could learn a secret.. would you hold it? could you keep it, in your soul and never seep it, never utter words or speak it?
Its our psychedelic heritage us moderns made a relic.. so they demonise on telly, feed you lies and fill your belly, its propaganda.. so they tell ye that they're manifesting hell, in actuality its Entheos.. go meet the man himself.
but listeners its difficult, cause heavin is a metaphor. An explanation to the questions.. answers only pose us more, like who? and what? and why?.. too much thinking! man I'm fried, the Universes mysteries are locked away inside.
So here we go "its just a ride" and every moon will bring its tide, behind the clouds the sun will shine.. but still I comprehend this mind, though every time to no avail I always fail to understand myself... a flitting sense of ego death and this is me, so what the hell?
If you venture to these realms you'll find the power in yourself.. yes! anything is possible, I'm rich without the wealth, I'm a citizen... belonging to this Earth and this song I sing's the only thing I wished I'd never heard.
So as you see it swerve and sway.. a million colours on display, it simply takes your breath away which only restorates your faith and I would live this every day.. forgiveness? only sinners pay, so hop aboard the glass spaceship and we'll take you away.

its cold and its dark, and a single little spark... in a grain of sand this Universe just blew itself appart.