As usual

A harsh gray flood was coming toward us.

How was it started?
Who was guilty?
Which royal boat would be capsized?
Who would win that blood-wave-riding?
We didn't know.
There was no time for thinking,
but as usual we only ought to be dammed against it.

The harsh gray-red-flood
was passing through our ever-ruined village,
and our ashes were dancing
in the memories of war-brides.

For centuries we have played the same act.
And now we, the forgotten victims,
are waiting for the next War.


                                                                                                                                                                           Persion Hoopoe

Luisteren is genieten

In de omhelzing van de natuur

In de kleuren van de zonsondergang

Ga ik zitten en luister naar mezelf

en naar de wereld om me heen

Hier luisteren is bewust worden

Het is een reis van zelfontdekking

Ik ontdek men eigen macht

en mijn schoonheid

Hier begrijp ik de relatie tussen licht ,

donker en helder

Tussen rede,emotie en werkelijkheid

Hier kan ik vrij vliegen op de  adem van de wind.

Tine 

(Verhavert)

~My Fairy Home~

Golden light filters softly through windows
The fragrance of gingerbread there
Embers glow warm in the fireplace
The sound of laughter can be heard everywhere

Sounds of a family togather
Memories of love through the years
A castle's a home that is special
Love grows everyday when you're there

A home filled with peace and contentment
A place where you feel so secure
A home is wherever you make it
           With a big welcome sign at home           

  Sand * * *  

"The Softest Kind Of Poetry".